“Good morning.” Maggie entered from the house door carrying an armload of welded metal shapes. “Doesn’t your picture look great? Jack made the frame up for me and brought it back when he called in to drop off these table number holders this morning.” She nodded at the jumble of metal she held in her arms. “Can you give me a hand?”
Keely stepped forward to help as Maggie deposited her load on the top of the nearest table.
“Aren’t they delightful?” Maggie chuckled. She had disentangled a shape from the pile and held it up for Keely to see.
The figure was formed from welded metal that had been painted black like the arrangement that held her jewellery. This one had a coiled base to allow it to stand and one outstretched arm had a gap where a cardboard square with a number on it was slotted in. Keely smiled. It looked like a small scarecrow.
“A man of many talents is Jack Telford.” Maggie began to untangle the rest of the small figures. “I worry that the next generation may not be skilled in some of these old crafts.”
They put one of the scarecrow figures clutching its cardboard number on each table.
“I hope it goes well today,” Keely said.
“It won’t be through lack of effort, if it doesn’t.”
They were silent for a moment as they both surveyed the room.
“How’s Euan this morning?” Keely asked.
“You mean, has my brother got over his grumps?” Maggie chuckled again. “He’ll be fine. I made him organise the meat for the rolls, then I sent him off for a surf. Flynn has managed to bring him kicking and screaming to this point but Euan has impeccable manners. He may not like all these people coming to Levallier Dell but he will put on a smile and entertain them. He could charm the birds from the trees if he put his mind to it.”
Keely remembered the picnic Euan had prepared on her first weekend. Maggie was right. He could be very charming.
“Flynn is not so good at hiding his feelings,” Maggie said.
“This weekend is very important to him.” Keely thought back over the planning and preparation they’d done together. She’d enjoyed it all, but would it have been as interesting with someone different?
“The two of you have made a good team.” Maggie was smiling at her.
Keely glanced down and her hair fell forward. She sensed Maggie move closer.
“Keely, tell me to mind my own business if you want but you have such beautiful bone structure. Do you ever wear your delightful hair up?”
Keely swept her hair back from her face with her fingers. “My mother is always at me to wear it tied back but—”
“No, not back. I mean up. We have a bit of time. Will you let me show you?”
Keely hesitated. She hated it when her mother went on about her hair but her mother’s hair was always cut short and neat, a no-fuss style. Maggie’s hair was swept up in some kind of elegant roll.
“Thank you.” If she was working with food all day, she knew she would have to do something with her hair. Maybe Maggie’s idea would be better than a ponytail.
* * *
Theo handed over the box of wine. “Enjoy!” he said brightly to the happy group he had just entertained with stories of wine production. He looked across the room where the lunchtime crowd was filling the tables and spilling out into the courtyard area. Along the bar from him, Katerina and Angela were talking to customers, explaining the style of wine they were offering. It was good to have family selling their wines. They had outside staff as well but family knew best how to promote their own product.
He studied Angela closely now. She was a good wife to Peter. A little shy perhaps, but even so she related well to customers and he’d noticed she’d upsold several times already that day. He had hoped Katerina would take up the offer of brand manager but if that wasn’t to be, then maybe Angela could do the job. Perhaps he would talk to her about it later. There was certainly no money to employ someone outside the family.
He felt the tightness in his chest again as he recalled his meeting with the accountant. They needed to quit some debt quickly. With the loss of the chardonnay crop and…Theo prodded at his breastbone to try to dispel the ache. He still couldn’t believe he had wiped out half of the new semillon vines. He ran his fingers through his hair. No one else was to blame but himself. It was a personal blow and a financial one.
“Pappou, are you feeling okay?” Kat touched his arm.
He smiled at her frowning face. “Of course. Do you need a break?”
“No, the next shift will be here soon and we can stop for a bite to eat. There are some customers who would like to meet you.”
He looked past her to the stylish group sampling his reds at the bar. “Always happy to talk to the customers.” He rolled his shoulders to ease the ache then tapped his granddaughter under the chin. “Come on, Katerina, smile. I don’t want you scaring off potential buyers.”
* * *
Flynn grinned as another group of satisfied customers walked out with bottles of his Scarecrow Dry White in the green Levallier Dell bags. It was selling very well. He glanced across at Euan, who was propped against a barrel in the corner talking earnestly to an older couple who were interested in his sauvignon blanc. It was late afternoon and the customers had been coming steadily since eleven.
Euan was in full swing, explaining the process of his wine from vine to glass. Flynn could do that, too, if the customer wanted to know – but he was just as happy to share his wine with those who weren’t so knowledgeable when it came to the process. All kinds of people bought wine for all kinds of reasons. If they liked his wine and wanted to buy it, he wasn’t going to bore them with the details.
He bent down to collect a tray of glasses to wash. Maggie and Keely had been kept busy with the food but they’d stopped serving a couple of hours earlier, apart from a few groups who’d asked for the Margaret River taste plate.
“I’ll take those inside.”
He straightened. Maggie was on the other side of the bar.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “It’s gone quiet out here now. Time to shut the doors soon.”
“I’ll wash them, then I’m going to put my feet up for a while before dinner.”
“Are you feeling okay?” Flynn had to remind himself, as he got older, that she did too. Maggie always seemed young to him.
“I’m perfectly fine. I want to rest my legs before dinner, that’s all. Everything ran like clockwork in the kitchen. Keely is such a clever girl, don’t you think?”
“She’s great.”
Maggie winked at him and picked up the tray. As he watched her walk inside, he realised Keely was more than great to do what she had done. While he and Euan had been busy at the cellar door, Maggie and Keely had done all the food. He’d lost track of how many people had eaten lunch, perhaps eighty. He knew his aunt would have worked hard but Keely was the one who’d planned the food, organised it and managed the preparation, and she’d run the kitchen without a hiccup, from what Flynn could see.
Another group of customers came inside, just as Keely stepped through the side door. She was tall, nearly matching him in height, and for the first time since he’d met her, she wore her hair swept up onto her head. It changed her face, or maybe it was that he could see her more clearly. She gave him a quick smile and headed towards Euan.
“Euan, Dianna is on the landline for you inside,” Keely said. “She says she’s tried to get you on your mobile several times.”
Flynn raised his eyebrows but said nothing and instead began lining up some glasses for the group walking his way. Euan’s phone was probably switched off or lying in the house somewhere. Maybe Dianna could convince him to pay a bit more attention to it and perhaps even invest in a new one.
“Thanks, Keely,” Euan said. “Would you mind packing six bottles of our sauvignon blanc for Bob and Barb. They’re all the way from California.”
Keely faltered, just for a second, then she brushed at her shirt and stepped around the bar with a smile. �
��Of course.”
She glanced at Flynn and held his gaze for a moment before she tackled Euan’s request. Her bright smile lingered before him as he turned his attention to his next lot of customers. He was keenly aware of Keely working nearby as he welcomed them. He started his spiel while she packaged the wine for the Californians and then went on wiping down the surfaces, restocking the wine and generally tidying up. He’d hardly seen her all day and he enjoyed having her share the space behind the counter with him, just the two of them.
The two men and two women lined up along the bar had heard about the Levallier Dell whites and were keen to try the sauvignon blanc. He explained again about the quality and the limited number of bottles left but he didn’t think they would buy. They looked more like the one- or two-bottle types. The women drifted along to Keely’s beads. The two men stayed to talk.
“We South Aussies are very fussy about our wine,” one of the men said and he took a sip of semillon. “Our whites still come out on top.”
Flynn’s patience was waning a little. It had been a long day and it was time to close up. If this guy wasn’t going to buy, he may as well leave.
“I’m from South Australia and I’d say the Levallier Dell Sauvignon Blanc is the best I’ve tasted yet.” Keely smiled confidently at the two men.
“That’s a high recommendation,” the other man said.
Their two female companions were exclaiming over the jewellery.
“We’re just about to close up,” Keely said. “Seeing you are our last customers for the day, I’m sure our jewellery maker would be happy for us to give you a bottle cover if you buy a sixpack of wine.”
Flynn stood silently beside Keely, amazed to see her so assertive. The group decided to take a mixed dozen of reds and whites, including the sauvignon blanc. He smiled and took their money. Keely packaged everything up, gave both women one of her beaded bottle decorations, waved them off and shut the door behind them. She turned to look back at Flynn, a nervous smile tugging at her lips.
He wanted to jump the bar and kiss her but remained fixed to the spot, surprised at the strength of his reaction.
“I hope that was okay,” she said.
“Fine by me, but perhaps you should have checked with our ‘jewellery maker’ before you gave away her work.” He held her gaze. She looked worried now. Damn it, he’d upset her again. “What’s the matter?” Euan was standing in the doorway, looking from Flynn to Keely.
“It wasn’t really a lie,” Keely said. “I told them your sauvignon blanc is the best I’ve tasted. It’s just that I haven’t really tasted any others.”
Euan laughed. “I’m happy to take your praise.”
Flynn couldn’t hold in his own laughter any longer.
“Oh, Flynn,” Keely said. “I thought you were going to tell me off.”
He took a breath and straightened up. She was smiling now.
“Why?” he asked. “You just made an excellent sale. Besides, one should never argue with a jewellery maker. I think we’ll have to keep Keely front of house, Euan. She’s just sold a dozen wines to the hardest customers of the day.”
“Let’s open a bottle of our best then.” Euan took out a bottle of the Scarecrow Dry White. “All in all, it’s been a good day.”
Flynn looked from the bottle of wine, his wine, to the huge smile on his father’s face. Maybe the tide was turning.
CHAPTER 30
Flynn tripped and bumped against her. “Sorry Keely,” he mumbled. “Here I am walking you home and it’s me who can’t see the way.”
Keely enjoyed the steadying arm he put across her shoulders, even if it was by accident. They’d all had several celebratory wines with dinner and it wasn’t until they were out in the fresh air that Keely had felt the full effects. Maybe Flynn was feeling it too.
“There’s plenty of moonlight.” She looked up at the night sky sprinkled with glittering stars. There were only a few clouds and a full moon. “I told everyone I’d be fine. It’s not as if I don’t know my way to the studio by now.”
“I needed to clear my head, anyway. It’s been quite a day.”
She glanced at his face, which was silhouetted by the moonlight. He was looking ahead but she could see his lips were turned up in a smile. He was right. Day one of the Divine Wine and Dine weekend had gone exceptionally well and they’d just topped it off with another of Maggie’s delicious meals and a couple of bottles of wine. Keely’s head was buzzing.
“I like your wine but it goes to my head quickly,” she said.
“It’s partly yours, you know,” Flynn said, as they rounded the studio and stepped onto the verandah.
“Now I know you’ve drunk too much.” She chuckled and moved past him to open the door. “I had nothing to do with making your wine.”
He took her arm and gently turned her back to face him. “You have your artwork on the label, which you helped to stick on dozens of bottles. You’ve cooked and cleaned and run the kitchen for our first cellar door where Scarecrow Dry White has sold very steadily. And you believe in it.” He dropped her arm but continued to look into her eyes. “I’d say that showed clear involvement.”
She couldn’t look away. He was right. She had done all those things and it had been easy to believe in something he was so passionate about. He took a small step closer. They held each other’s gaze for a moment. She saw some kind of longing there. Surely not for her but Kat wasn’t here. She turned away from him to reach for the kitchen light. “I’m going to have a tea. Would you like one?” She held her breath, waiting for the reply.
“Thanks.”
He followed her in and she was conscious of him moving about the room as she filled the kettle and got out the teabags and the cups. To have some time alone with Flynn was appealing but she felt guilty, as if she was betraying Kat with her thoughts.
“There’s money in this, you know.”
She turned to see him flicking through her sketchbook.
“They’re personal. I wouldn’t want to sell them.”
He closed the book quickly.
“I’m sorry—”
“Oh, no,” she cut in. “I don’t mind you looking at them but I didn’t sketch them for an audience…to sell, I mean.” She realised in that moment she wanted him to look at her sketches and enjoy them. There had never been anyone else’s approval she’d craved as much as she did his.
“Not these perhaps, but there is money to be made. Look at how many labels there are just in the Margaret River region alone. Someone has to design them.”
“But I didn’t design your label.” She passed him his tea. “You saw a sketch and it matched an idea you had.”
“Maybe…shall we sit outside?”
She followed him through the door.
“If I had come to you with my idea for a label with a rustic farmhand image, you probably would have created something I liked.”
They settled in the old wicker chairs. The river stretched away from them, glinting in the moonlight.
“Perhaps,” she murmured. “I’m pleased your wine sold so well today. Everyone liked it.”
“It was fortunate in many ways.”
She glanced over at him but he was staring ahead towards the river and his face was in shadow from the kitchen light behind.
“Last week, I’d nearly made up my mind to leave Levallier Dell.”
He spoke so softly she had to strain to hear him.
“Why?”
He turned to look at her with a wry smile. “You may have noticed Euan and I don’t always agree.”
“You’re both dedicated to Levallier Dell.”
“We are and most of the time it works. Euan’s a traditionalist and while I like to use more modern ideas, I wouldn’t want to throw the baby out with the bath water. Euan is an exceptional winemaker and our wine has won many awards.”
“You’re a part of all that, aren’t you?”
“I guess so. I’m just not sure how much of a part. When we bought the
Haystack Block it was to give me a chance to experiment a bit more but…I don’t know…these last couple of years, since I returned from overseas, Euan has become restless and yet more possessive of Levallier Dell. It’s almost as if he’s shutting me out. I might as well be a paid hand for all the say I get. Then, when I discovered he was planting more sauv blanc at the Haystack Block to make more traditional Levallier Dell wine I was devastated, but now…” He shrugged.
She waited for him to go on.
“I think Euan actually enjoyed himself today and he was pleased to see the Scarecrow Dry White selling so well. Maybe it was because his face was on the label.” He looked back towards the river. “Perhaps things will work out here.”
“Where would you have gone?”
“Maybe to South Australia. There’s an opportunity there I’m interested in.”
Keely watched him for a moment. “I wish I had your courage.”
He snorted. “If I had courage, I’d have it out with Euan. Anyway, there’s all kinds of courage. Look at you, facing those kids in the classroom. I wouldn’t want to do that. I remember what I was like at school. It can’t be easy to be a teacher.”
Keely’s stomach churned and the heavy weight settled quickly on her shoulders. She had been so busy all day that she’d successfully blocked any thoughts of the looming teaching job. Now the thought that it was only a day away hung over her like a shroud. She stared at the glinting dark water of the river. The mind was a strange thing. How can you be blissfully happy one minute, then trapped in fear the next?
“It’s not,” she murmured.
“But you enjoy teaching, otherwise why would you do it?”
She turned to look at him. He was only an arm’s distance away. “I don’t enjoy it.”
Surprise flickered across his face.
“In fact, I loathe it.” She slumped in her chair and looked back to the river. Just saying it out loud eased the ache in her shoulders. She hated feeling so miserable, hated teaching and even hated the students who had made her feel that way. Hate was a strong word, her mother always said. You should never say you hate someone. But hate was what she felt, and admitting it was a relief.
Something in the Wine Page 27