The Vineyard in Alsace

by Julie Stock

‘What you need is a good chat with an old friend, and I happen to know just the person. I’ll pack a bag on Thursday so I can set off straight from work on Friday. Is that okay?’

  ‘Of course it is. I can’t wait to see you and to find out all your news.’

  ‘Oh, you know me - same old, same old. I want to know all about your adventure!’

  We chatted a bit longer before saying goodbye. I slept really well knowing Ellie would be coming to see me again so very soon.

  Didier

  As I approached the office after my morning inspection on Monday, Ruby came dashing towards me. We enjoyed a good catch-up cuddle for several minutes, and she lapped up my attention. I’d had to put on a thick jumper that morning, a sure sign of the season changing, and I’d even tugged my boots on in case the ground was boggy. My face felt fresh from the morning air and I could see my breath in front of me as I sweet-talked Ruby, watching her roll around on the gravel.

  ‘Good morning. You look like you’ve been busy.’

  I looked up as Fran approached and smiled, rising to stand next to her.

  ‘I like the early mornings. It’s my chance to walk among the vines before the day gets going, to see how they’re faring. It looks like we’re going to have a wonderful harvest this year if this weather continues.’ I glanced up at the sky where all the answers lay for a viticulteur dependent on the sun and the rain. I stamped off my boots before going into the office and Fran followed me inside. On my way to the coffee machine, I glanced over at Henri who was already busy reading some papers.

  ‘These are excellent notes,’ Henri told Fran looking up from the papers.

  I turned round. ‘Ah, your notes from the visits we made on Saturday.’ I took the papers from Henri as he finished with them and sat down at Fran’s desk.

  ‘I hope I haven’t been too critical of the other visitors’ centres or too bold with my suggestions for Domaine des Montagnes,’ Fran murmured.

  ‘We’ve finally received the letter from the Mairie confirming that we now have planning permission to develop our buildings into a Visitors’ Centre,’ Henri said, causing me to look up briefly again before looking back down at Fran’s notes.

  ‘Oh, that’s great news,’ Fran replied. ‘So, when can we start the building works?’

  ‘As soon as you can work your magic on the builders!’ Henri answered. I noticed the cheeky grin he gave her.

  ‘Have you spoken to any builders yourself yet?’ she asked.

  ‘No, we haven’t had time. That’s what we need you for.’ He folded his arms and leaned back in his chair.

  I glanced up and noticed Fran swallow apprehensively.

  ‘Don’t look so worried,’ I said. ‘I have a list of builders I would like us to approach.’ I stood up and went to a drawer in the filing cabinet, returning a moment later with a shortlist in my hand. Fran looked at it, relieved.

  I took a few more minutes to finish reading her notes as she chatted with Henri.

  ‘This is an excellent summary of our visits from Saturday,’ I said finally, smiling at Fran. ‘I like your thinking. I do want us to be different and to have our own unique approach. I agree that people might not be so interested in seeing the mechanical operation of the bottling area, and that we must make sure to offer tours in different languages if we can, certainly in English and German. We also need to do some research on the best items to sell in the shop, rather than offering a whole list of things that people don’t want.’

  ‘Okay, well this list of builders will keep me busy for a while. Thank you,’ she said.

  I jumped up from her desk to let her sit down and get started. As I left, I gave Henri a smile knowing I could trust Fran to get on with the job in hand.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Fran

  Despite the busy day I’d had in the office, I tossed and turned throughout the night. I finally dragged myself out of bed at eight the next morning feeling dog-tired. A long shower revived me a little but by the time I was ready to go downstairs for some breakfast, I still didn’t feel ready for the day to come. Shortly before nine, my mobile rang and I snatched it up. I hadn’t even noticed who the caller was.

  ‘Allo?’ There was a brief silence at the other end.

  ‘Hello, Fran, it’s me.’

  ‘Paul? Is that you? What are you calling me for?’ I suppressed a groan. He was absolutely the last person I wanted to talk to, especially in my current mood.

  ‘I thought we should meet and talk. Where are you? Are you still in France?’

  Damn, how had he managed to get through after I’d blocked his number? And I couldn’t ask him either without giving away that I’d tried to block him. I ignored his question about where I was.

  ‘I have nothing left to say to you after what you did to me. And trying to change the locks on me too - that was really low.’ I banged around in the kitchen, making my anger very obvious.

  ‘I am sorry about everything,’ he said. ‘I’d like to try and clear the air if we can and move on together. Tell me where you are so we can meet. Please. I’m trying to do the right thing.’

  ‘For who? Not for me. I don’t want to meet you and “clear the air”. I just want you to leave me alone. I have to go now, bye.’

  I rang off before he could reply. I checked my calls log and realised the call had come from the bank where Paul and I used to work. He had probably got in early so he could ring me before anyone else arrived. God, he was infuriating. I blocked the bank’s number and set about making myself a very strong cup of coffee, taking out my frustration on the cups and kitchen utensils as they were the nearest things to hand. While I waited for the water to boil, I stood at the kitchen window looking out at the garden trying to calm down. Ruby nuzzled her nose against my clenched fist. I relaxed my hand and bent down to pet her. Maybe I would feel better once I got out for some fresh air and some thinking time. I decided against the coffee, threw on my coat and newly purchased wellies, and set off for a walk round the estate with Ruby.

  I headed down towards the vineyard. Ruby had gone a long way ahead as if she knew where to go, so I just followed her lead. As I took in the vibrant red, green and gold of the estate around me, I tried really hard to forget about Paul’s call. He was interrupting my new life, and just talking to him made me feel under his thumb again. I felt uneasy. Why was he so determined to keep in touch? I needed to stay in control and not let him browbeat me. I’d managed quite well in the conversation we’d had that morning. Now all I had to do was to keep that attitude up and not let him get under my skin again. I turned and made my way back to the cottage, feeling a bit more confident.

  A few hours later, I was on my way back home after a long morning in the office, wondering whether I would see Didier for lunch today or not. As I passed through the archway, I made out a solitary figure peering in the windows of the cottage. As I got nearer I recognised Isabelle. She straightened up and turned as I approached, her elegant appearance and manner making me feel shabby in my waterproof jacket, jeans and wellies.

  She looked me up and down with obvious disdain.

  ‘Can I help you?’ I managed to stutter out. I didn’t think she remembered me from the church last weekend.

  ‘Where is Didier?’ she demanded.

  ‘I haven’t seen him all morning but I imagine he’s busy in the vineyard.’ Feeling uncomfortable in her presence, I turned to go into the cottage.

  ‘Do you live here with him?’ Before I could reply, she threw her head back and laughed as though the very idea was too ridiculous to entertain. My hackles rose and I found the strength to answer her back.

  ‘I have just started working at the vineyard and this is now my cottage. Didier lives in the château. Perhaps you’d like to try there.’

  She turned away, looking in the direction of the château as if she’d lost interest in me. I followed her gaze and blew out a sigh of relief when I saw Didier striding purposefully towards us. The relief was only momentary, however. I sensed the underly
ing tension emanating from her and I wondered if she was limbering up for a fight with him. I felt anxious and longed to get away before I had to witness anything unpleasant, but I thought I should show some kind of solidarity with Didier.

  As he drew closer, I could see he was scowling in anticipation of a showdown. I saw the irritation on his face as he took in her beautiful but impractical outfit: sleek, tailored trousers, matching jacket and ridiculously high heels. Isabelle tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for him to arrive, and I wished I could be anywhere but here. I shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, wondering whether they were about to have a massive row in front of me.

  ‘Isabelle.’ Didier nodded curtly in her direction before looking over at me and giving me a fleeting smile.

  ‘I want to talk to you in private,’ Isabelle said, ‘but this woman tells me you no longer live in the cottage?’ She said it as if she didn’t believe it to be true and with as much scorn as she could manage. Didier gave me another quick glance, his gaze softening as though he were desperate to apologise for Isabelle’s rudeness.

  ‘That’s correct. I don’t live in the cottage. Come with me and we’ll talk on our way to the château.’ And with that, he turned on his heel and stalked off.

  Didier

  I turned round briefly to see Isabelle stumbling over the lawn until she finally decided to take off her high heels and walk in her bare feet. She caught up with me fairly quickly then but was still trailing along behind me. She was always immaculately presented but so out of place whenever she came here.

  ‘What’s this about?’ I asked once I’d checked Fran had gone inside and we were far enough away from the cottage for no-one to hear.

  ‘I need a special favour from you but I need you to listen to me. I can’t do it while we’re walking.’

  I stopped and turned so abruptly she nearly bumped into me. I folded my arms and stared at her, knowing full well she was going to ask me to look after Chlöe again. All I wanted was a regular arrangement, with agreed visitation rights to see my daughter. These constant changes of plan were fraying my nerves.

  ‘Well?’ I said after a couple of minutes had passed and she still hadn’t told me what she was talking about.

  ‘The thing is I have been offered a modelling contract,’ she began. I noticed she was twisting her fingers together. That was odd in itself, because she was never nervous. She must want this job quite badly.

  ‘So? You’ve had contracts before. What’s so important about this one?’

  ‘It’s abroad.’

  ‘You’re not taking Chlöe abroad, Isabelle. That I will not allow.’ I felt a stab of fear and braced myself for the onslaught of what she would say next.

  She rolled her eyes at me. ‘I don’t want to take her with me, that’s the point. I want her to stay with you so that I can go and do my work without having to worry about her.’ She tutted at me and my mouth fell open at her cold-hearted approach to our child.

  ‘Of course Chlöe can stay with me. I want her to be with someone who loves her as she should be loved and who can provide the stability that she needs. When are you going? And how long for?’

  ‘I’m leaving on Saturday. And that’s the other thing.’ She paused dramatically. ‘I’m going for a year.’

  I was stunned by the thought of Chlöe staying with me for a year, delighted but anxious at the same time. I didn’t want Isabelle coming back after a year demanding that everything return to normal. ‘Then I think the time has come for us to start divorce proceedings and to agree on a formal custody arrangement.’

  ‘What are you talking about? This is only a temporary situation. We don’t need to get into all the formalities now.’

  Her sudden anger caught me by surprise. ‘A year is a long time, Isabelle, and we have already been separated for a while.’

  It was as if she hadn’t even heard me. ‘Don’t you want to know where I’m going?’ she continued, full of her own self-importance. ‘I will be in Toronto, in Canada, for your information.’ She turned to leave, signalling the end of our conversation. It was just as well she wasn’t looking at my face because I was sure a look of loathing must have passed across it as I struggled to contain my feelings. ‘I’ll bring Chlöe over on Saturday then, with her things,’ she said over her shoulder. Then she sashayed off, leaving me reeling from her announcement.

  Fran

  After lunch, I kept myself busy all afternoon in the office, continuing with my phone calls to builders and slotting in appointments with them where possible. I had my first appointment lined up for the next morning. I needed to confirm that Didier could be there too, but there had been no further sign of him since he’d left with Isabelle. As I said goodbye to Henri at the end of the day, I worried about how their meeting must have gone. It was as if he was hiding himself away from us.

  I was glad to get back to the refuge of my cottage at the end of such a rotten day, and I was just checking the contents of the fridge to see what I might be able to throw together for dinner when I heard a light knock at the door.

  Didier was standing outside, looking very sorry for himself.

  ‘Hey, you look miserable. Are you okay?’ I gestured to him to come in, and he proceeded to collapse onto the sofa in front of the wood-burning stove. He stretched out his hands to warm them up. Despite his long face, he still looked gorgeous in his plain black t-shirt and jeans.

  ‘Isabelle told me she’s been offered a one year modelling contract in Toronto. She wants me to take care of Chlöe so she can go without having to worry about looking after her.’ He stopped, a pained expression on his face.

  ‘And how do you feel about that?’

  ‘I don’t mind if she goes to Toronto. I only care about my daughter’s welfare and her future. I want to look after her, of course, but I don’t want Isabelle coming back in a year’s time and taking her away from me again.’ He bowed his head and ran his hands through his curly hair in frustration. ‘So, I told her that it’s time for us to get a divorce and to sort out a formal custody arrangement for Chlöe but, judging from Isabelle’s reaction, I don’t think she will accept that easily. God knows why, she hardly spends any time with Chlöe as it is.’

  ‘Have you spoken to a lawyer about this before?’ I asked, sitting down opposite him.

  ‘I spoke to someone when we first split up to check that I would be able to secure visiting rights to see Chlöe. He knew his stuff. I guess I could go back and talk to him about it in more detail now.’

  I nodded. ‘How did you leave things with Isabelle?’

  ‘I told her I would be more than happy to look after Chlöe, but I didn’t push her about the divorce or the custody.’

  ‘Well, that sounds like you’ve done the right thing for now. When’s she going?’

  ‘Next weekend! I don’t know what she would have done if I’d said no.’

  ‘Does she have family nearby?’

  ‘No, her mum lives in Paris and her dad’s in America. They’re divorced too, and haven’t really shown much interest in their grand-daughter so far.’

  ‘Well, you can get on to the lawyer tomorrow and see what he has to say.’

  ‘You’re right.’ He looked up at last and smiled at me. ‘Thanks for listening, I’m sorry to dump all this on you.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, I’m glad if I can help. Changing the subject slightly, I was just going to make some dinner. Would you like to stay?’

  He grinned and I was pleased I’d been able to help take his mind off his worries for a change.

  I set about making a frittata using the leftover prosciutto and the asparagus spears I’d found hiding in the bottom of the fridge. As I was whisking the eggs, Didier stood up and came into the kitchen.

  ‘It smells really good already,’ he said, sniffing the air, ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’

  ‘Could you lay the table and pour out the wine while I get started cooking?’ We sat down together at the table a short while later.
/>
  ‘Santé, and thank you for going to all this trouble for me. It looks and smells divine.’ He tucked into his food, looking like he was savouring each mouthful. It was a pleasure to see how much he was enjoying it.

  ‘You haven’t told me about your day at all. I’m sorry I’ve monopolised the conversation.’ He looked at me expectantly as he chewed his mouthful.

  ‘I had a bit of a surprise call from my ex this morning.’

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘What did he want?’

  ‘To meet and talk to clear the air apparently. I don’t know what that was all about. I’d already told him it’s over between us. I’ve moved on now, and I don’t want to see him again.’

  ‘You need to block his number from your phone,’ Didier replied.

  I nodded. ‘That was the weird thing. I’d blocked him once already when he sent me a text but this time he called from the bank. I’ve blocked the bank’s number now but he seems determined to stay in touch. It’s important for me to maintain the new sense of purpose I’ve got since coming home. I don’t want to fall under his control again.’

  ‘Does he know where you are?’

  ‘I did tell him I was coming home to France, but I haven’t told him where I live precisely and he’s never been here. But he could probably work it out if he wanted to from things that I’ve said in the past.’ I chewed my lip as I considered how I would feel if he did come and find me.

  ‘Was he…was he ever violent towards you?’ Didier looked embarrassed even to ask me the question and I felt awkward about answering it. We were both silent for a few minutes.

  ‘No, he wasn’t physically violent towards me thank God, but he was threatening at times and I sensed he might hurt me if he didn’t like something I said or did. To be honest, now I’ve had the chance to get away from him, I couldn’t ever go back.’

  After we’d finished our meal, we cleared everything away and Didier shrugged on his coat.