Authors: Tricia Stringer
“Count Margaret and me in.”
“Thanks, Howard.”
Howard rubbed his hands together. “It will be a pleasure.”
“I've got a small team of seasonal pickers on standby. We've also got Antoine and Taylor. I'll give Ben a call. His wife Jane will help as well. If it's Tuesday or Wednesday Noelene might lend a hand and there's me and Ed of course. We should get it done in half a day.”
“I think Noelene's best left out of it and you should make sure Eddie's busy that day.”
Pete turned his head sideways. He trusted Howard's knowledge of grapes implicitly but he had noticed the old bloke say a few odd things of late that made him wonder if he was just starting to lose his grip a bit.
“Ed has to be there.”
“No he doesn't. His heart's not in it, Pete.”
“I don't understand.”
“It's best he does something else that day. That's all I'm saying.” Howard scratched his chin. The skin wrinkled beneath his fingers. “Best for everyone.”
Pete studied Howard. He was talking in riddles but his gaze was as sharp as ever. There was nothing about his look to suggest he
was losing his marbles.
“Do you think he'd try to stop us? That would be ridiculous. The grapes have to be picked.” Pete scratched at the back of his neck.
Howard grasped Pete's shoulder in a firm grip. “Trust me on this, boy. Eddie's better off kept in the dark about this until it's all over and Noelene, well, I think it's best she doesn't know either.”
“Noelene's as solid as a rock.”
“I didn't say she wasn't. I just think it's best to keep this as close to your chest as possible.”
Pete screwed up his face. “I wish you could explain it better.”
“No need. Let me know which day you choose and what time and Margaret and I will be here.” He lifted his hat and shoved it firmly back on his head.
Pete opened his mouth but Howard turned away, moving towards his old green car with his hobbling gait.
Back at his cottage Pete was restless. He replayed Howard's comments over in his head. Pete didn't like subterfuge. He could think of nothing that would distract Ed and keep him away from the winery and he knew Noelene would want to be part of it if she could.
He stuck his head out the back door. Taylor's van was still parked at the quarters but he'd heard Antoine drive off a while ago. The Frenchman was planning to have a few drinks in town. Pete could have gone with him but he was half thinking he'd see if Taylor was staying in. Maybe they could eat whatever meal she'd prepared together. This last week he'd been late every night and had taken his meal home to eat alone and then fallen into bed.
It was Friday night after all. He pulled on a clean shirt and dragged his fingers through his tight curls. He needed a haircut but there was no time to fit that in at the moment. In the mirror he looked at the stubble shadow on his chin. He should shave but splashed water on his face instead. Now that he had decided to visit Taylor he was keen to get there.
He took a bottle of chardonnay from his fridge and made his way through his backyard and along the track to the quarters. He could
hear music as he approached and through the screen door he could see the wooden door was open.
“Hello,” he called. When there was no answer he pulled open the screen and stuck his head inside. “Knock, knock,” he called.
Taylor appeared from the passage, rubbing at her hair with a towel. Her face lit up with a smile.
“Hello, Pete.”
“Are you going somewhere?”
“No. Have you come for your dinner? It's still heating up.”
“Yes, but I wondered if you'd like company.” He held up the bottle of wine.
“Of course. Just let me finish my hair. You know where the glasses are. I'll be right back.”
Pete whistled along to the music. He opened the wine and poured two glasses. In the background he could hear Taylor's hair dryer. There was a laptop on the table. The music was coming from there. Pete couldn't help but notice the picture of the Eiffel Tower on the screen. It was a night shot, taken close to the base looking up.
“I was re-reading my blog.” Taylor came up behind him. The floral scent of her freshly showered body enveloped him.
“Did you take this photo?”
“Yes.”
“It's a great perspective. How long ago where you there?”
Taylor slid on to the seat next to him. “A few years now. Cass and I went together.”
“I did a vintage in France straight after uni. That's where I met Antoine. I had an incredible time. I'd love to go back one day.”
“Me too.”
“So this blog is about your travels?”
“Yes. It was a way to keep in touch with my family and share photos.”
“Great idea. I don't think to use the computer for those kinds of things.”
“I've been looking at websites and Facebook for local wineries. I
hope you don't mind me saying but Wriggly Creek's could do with some work.”
“I have to admit I haven't looked at it for ages. Ed oversees that side of things and I think he leaves most of it to Felicity.”
“Oh.” The excitement slid from Taylor's face.
“Perhaps you could share your ideas with her. I'm sure she'd appreciate it. She's got so many other jobs on her plate.”
“I'll give it some thought.” Taylor stood up. “That lasagne should be heated through by now. Do you know if Ed wants some?”
“I've hardly seen him all day. Last I saw he was heading into town to get some hose joiners.”
“I'm putting some aside for Antoine. I'll do the same for Ed.”
She was quiet as she dished up. He wondered if she was thinking about Ed.
“Can I help?” he asked.
“There's a green salad in the fridge and some dressing.”
He put it on the table as she set down two plates of lasagne. Taylor sat and he followed and topped up their glasses. He raised his towards her.
“Thank you,” he said.
“What for?”
“For the meals, for all the jobs you do for us.”
“I'm on the payroll now,” she said.
“How did the plunging end up?”
“Good. I'm glad Antoine did the next couple of shifts. I'm going to be sore tomorrow.” She wrapped her arms across her chest, squeezed her shoulders with her hands and groaned. “What a weakling.”
“It uses muscles you don't usually work so hard.”
“Well, I'll be able to lift tall buildings once I get used to it.”
“I don't think we've got any tall buildings that need moving but we can have you lifting wine barrels again.” He smiled at her and was rewarded by a return grin.
“Do you think you could write me a list of things I have to do each
day?”
“I could.”
“That would save me having to find you. If you jot down anything you can think of I'll get on and do it. If I run out of jobs or I'm not sure then I can find you.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Pete was a little disappointed. He'd got used to explaining Taylor's tasks each morning but she was right. She was quite capable of getting on with the jobs at hand without having to wait for him. “I can pin it on the board in the lab.”
“Good idea.” She went on eating.
He put another forkful of lasagne in his mouth. “This is good, thank you.”
“I'd normally make a meat-based lasagne. I'm glad Antoine's vegetarian. I'm enjoying discovering new options for meals.”
“I'm enjoying not having to think about meals. Mum did all the cooking and Ed and I aren't much good in that department.”
Taylor put down her fork. “I hope it's not proving too awkward having me here still.”
“Not for me.” He studied her. The spark had left her eyes. “It's none of my business but now that you've broken it off I think it's for the best. Ed's not your type.”
“How do you know what my type is?” She looked at him with amused interest.
Pete glanced down at his plate. “I guess I don't but I do know my brother.” He took another mouthful and hoped she would let it go. Perhaps it was the wine or simply being with Taylor but his tongue was loose.
“You're the second person today to tell me Ed's not my type.”
“Really? Let me guess. Noelene?”
“Yes.” Taylor chuckled. “She said I was Ed's type but not his type. Quite mysterious of her.”
Pete knew exactly what Noelene meant. Taylor was too nice a person to be one of Ed's flings. Noelene had seen it too.
“She means well,” he said.
“She's very fond of you two.”
“She kind of adopted us when our parents died.”
“You're lucky to have someone like that in your life, someone who cares.”
Taylor lifted her glass this time and he followed suit.
“To Noelene,” she said.
“To our parents, wherever they are.”
“Would you like some more lasagne?”
“No thanks. That was delicious but filling.”
Taylor reached for his plate.
“I'll do the dishes,” he said.
“It's only two plates. I'll do them in the morning. Shall we have the rest of the wine?”
He poured and they carried their glasses to the couch. She sat with one foot underneath her, her body turned to face him. Her hair shone and her face glowed. All he could do was look at her. Suddenly he had nothing to say. Here he was sharing a drink and a couch with the most beautiful and interesting woman he'd met in a while and he was speechless.
“I forgot to tell you,” she said. “I saw two men looking at your cabernet grapes today. The vineyard between the cellar door and the winery.”
“NS18?”
“Yes.”
He wondered who that would have been. “Quite a few people know this is the first year we'll get a proper crop off it. Vignerons are like everyone else. We like to check out the opposition. They were probably just stickybeaking.” He hoped that was all. After his strange discussion with Howard he was edgy.
“This is not meant to be a shot at your clothes but they were both wearing suits.”
“Well-dressed stickybeaks.” Pete chuckled but it didn't alleviate his concern. With Howard's comments and Ed's talk of selling the NS18 he wouldn't rest easy until he had the grapes picked and
safely in the tanks.
Taylor took a sip of wine. “You know I used to think chardonnay was for the twin-set-and-pearls people. My gran drank it and I never liked it but I'm really developing a taste for this.”
“A lot of vignerons steer away from the over-oaked, buttery chardonnays of the past. The style has changed. We aim for a fruit-driven wine with tight acid, texture and length.”
She tipped her head to one side and raised an eyebrow. “Whatever that means I like it.”
A wisp of hair fell across her eyes. He reached across and pushed it back. They held each other's gaze. He wanted to press his lips against hers, to feel their warmth, to taste them.
There was a sharp rap on the screen door and it flew open. Ed stepped inside and looked from Pete to Taylor.
“You two look cosy.”
“We've just finished our dinner,” Taylor sat back. “Would you like yours now?”
“Yes but I'll take it with me.”
She got up and went to the fridge. Pete hadn't heard a vehicle. Ed must be on foot. Pete stayed on the couch. He felt as if he'd been caught doing something wrong.
“Did you get what you wanted?” he asked.
Ed frowned at him.
“In Penola.”
“Oh yes. All good.”
Pete stood up. “I really should get going too, Taylor. Thanks for dinner.”
“Oh, are you leaving?” She looked surprised. “I enjoyed it. I've got used to not eating alone.”
Ed gave a soft snort as she handed him a container from the fridge.
“Thanks,” he grunted.
Pete was embarrassed. Ed could be so rude sometimes.
“Good night, Taylor,” Pete said and followed Ed out the door.
She called good night and shut the wooden door behind them.
“Have you got a moment?” Ed asked.
“Sure.” Pete didn't like the dark look on his brother's face. It usually meant trouble.
“Let's go to your place.” Ed set off, taking long strides.
Pete followed behind, wondering what bombshell Ed was going to drop this time.
Edward's anger bubbled in his chest like a fermenting wine. He barely gave Peter time to get in the door before he rounded on him.
“What are you playing at?” Edward growled.
“What?” Peter's face creased in a puzzled look.
“Taylor. You've been making a play for her behind my back.”
“No I wasn't. Whatever gave you that idea?”
“I've seen you a few times making eyes at each other. That's why she called it off with me.” Edward poked a finger of his spare hand at Peter. “You've been chasing her behind my back.”
“No I haven't. And from what I understand you two are no longer an item anyway so Taylor can do whatever she likes now.”
“You are sweet on her.”
Peter sighed and held up his hands. “Say whatever you like. There's nothing between Taylor and me.”
Edwards's gaze locked on Peter. There was something about the way he said the word
nothing
. It was too emphatic.
“You're taken with her.”
“I'm not.”
Once again the sharp response. Edward felt anger burn deep within his chest. He'd taken a liking to Taylor but once she'd spent time at the quarters her interest in him had waned. He'd blamed Antoine but maybe it had been Peter who'd been cutting his lunch.
“Remember what happened with Felicity?”
Peter's jaw dropped.
“She was mine first.” Edward wanted to stop Peter going after Taylor and it was the only way he could think to do it. “It's the same with Taylor. You always go after my cast-offs and Taylor was with
me first, just like Felicity. And I do mean in every way.”