First encounters

In conversation with FRANCES O'ROURKE


In conversation with FRANCES O'ROURKE

MARINA BLEAHEN

grew up on a farm in east Galway. She was a radiographer working in Beaumont Private Clinic before joining Elan Pharmaceuticals, where she was global director of marketing. She is now a business coach in her husband, Paul Fagan's company, ActionCoach. They live in Howth with their two children

'THERE WAS AN instant bond when we met in the 1980s: we were both in our first jobs, in the Bank of Ireland on Baggot Street. I'd grown up on a farm, in Clontuskert, in east Galway. Catherine had just finished her degree in UCD – she'd started at 16.

“We moved into a flat together for about a year, and it was always fun. Then I went back to college to study radiography. We shared a flat again after I qualified, then we both bought houses. I was 22. I lived in Stillorgan, Catherine lived in Clonskeagh, and we’d meet in the middle to walk in Deerpark, Mount Merrion.

“We’d walk and talk, discuss things very openly. You’d always be assured of honest feedback and support from Catherine, whether it was about relationships, career . . . and later, children and business. We were both very driven to build a business. We both had very supportive parents, a very solid foundation.

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“We bonded over everything from holidays to nights out, and later, to meeting up with our children and husbands. Our families are close.

“I clearly remember on one of those walks Catherine telling me she had a dream of converting a building in the yard of Ballyknocken into a cookery school. I said, ‘I know you can do it, of course you can, go for it.’ She would do that for me, but would be very solid in terms of saying have you thought of this, this and this . . . ?

“After qualifying as a radiographer, I worked in Beaumont Private Clinic, then went back to college to study marketing and joined Elan. I left there with the aim of having children and to work with my husband, Paul, building up ActionCoach, his business-coaching franchise in Ireland. We teach business owners, especially small and medium enterprises, how to increase their sales and profits and run their businesses better. It’s a franchise that operates in 39 countries.

“Both our mums died when they were young. I think when you’ve a great mother, who’s very encouraging, as we both did, it gives you a great start in life. My mother worked full-time in the home, but she wanted us to do whatever we wanted. She would say, ‘Go for it’ – she gave us a great sense of ‘yes I can’.

“Catherine and I see each other a lot, and then it can be just phone calls for a while – but we pick up the phone and the connection’s always there. We never drifted apart, even when I was travelling for Elan.

“I’ve a great group of long-standing friends but Catherine is number one. We have a really solid friendship, and we always have fun. I’m immensely proud of the success of her cookery books and TV shows. The night of her first show, Catherine came to my house: I cooked and we watched it together.

“I’m not surprised: I always believed she could do it.”

CATHERINE FULVIO

is a TV chef, author of two cookbooks and runs a cookery school and guesthouse – started by her mother, Mary Byrne – at Ballyknocken House, Glenealy, Co Wicklow. She lives there with her husband, Claudio, from Sicily, and their two children. Catherine's next book, Eat Like an Italian, will be published in September

‘I’D JUST FINISHED UCD, and in the 1980s, jobs were hard to get – there was teaching, the Civil Service and the bank, so I applied for that. After training, I was sent to the branch on Baggot Street. There was only one other person around my age there, and she gave me the biggest, friendliest smile. That was Marina.

“We took to each other like ducks to water. Both of us grew up on farms, had a huge amount in common. It didn’t take us long to decide to move into a flat together. It was on Marlborough Road in Donnybrook, in walking distance of town, very important for our nights out.

“We’d both go home every weekend, sometimes to each other’s homes. Travelling back from Glenealy on the number 133 bus, I’d have eggs, butter and my mother’s brown bread still practically cooking in my bag; Marina’d bring a few cauliflowers, and some of her mum’s apple tarts. We didn’t buy food, basically, just raided our parents’ homes and gardens.

“We went on ski and sun holidays, just had great fun together. Marina’s got such a contagious giggle, it was the first thing I noticed about her – I thought, ‘I’m going to enjoy this girl so much.’

“We were in the flat for about a year, then she went back to college to do radiography; I stayed on in the bank for a few years, then went to study PR. After that, I worked with Larry Sheedy doing PR for the food industry, then got a job at Tinakilly House as marketing manager.

“My mum passed away in 1998, too young at 56, and I took over Ballyknocken in 2000. I’d grown up there cooking for hungry hillwalkers.

“Marina’s mum passed away young, too. But we both have fantastic dads, both still running the family farms. And now our families, our children, are friends too.

“Marina’s a great cook – she might not have told you that – and has wonderful dinner parties. People are sometimes afraid to cook for me but not Marina – she never lets me leave her house without feeding me.

“What I really enjoy about my job is that it’s so varied. I’m not a sit-still kind of person; I’m always looking for the next idea. Marina’s a planner – will say, ‘Focus Catherine and get there’. I do follow her guidelines, personally and business-wise.

“Marina’s a great problem solver, a great diagnoser. Radiography is a diagnostic business and now here she is diagnosing businesses, helping companies solve their problems as a business coach.

“I could turn to Marina for anything in my life; she’s the most loyal, kindest, most empathetic, smartest person I know. She’s always there, always supportive, always has time for me. There’s a deep connection; we can read each other’s faces very quickly, know if there’s something up.

“We’ve never ever fallen out; we’ll be friends to the bitter end.”