Blood, Wine and Chocolate

by Julie Thomas

  ‘And Mum and Merlot?’ Anna asked anxiously.

  ‘When you’re ready, I’ll take care of everything.’

  Vinnie turned the envelope over in his hands. So far, so good. ‘Thank you for doing that, Peter. It means a lot.’

  Harper shrugged. ‘Lane is away for life, and you did that.’

  Vinnie could tell by the way Anna held herself so tightly that she didn’t want to hear any more about Marcus Lane. And who could blame her? He didn’t respond.

  Harper was watching him cautiously. ‘You were a very credible witness, Vinnie. They all believed you. The records have been expunged and sealed, so no one can trace you. From today you are Dominic and Ava Darcy. And soon you’ll be able to add “vintners”.’

  Vinnie gave a small smile of satisfaction as he opened the envelope.

  PART FOUR

  WINE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  MR AND MRS DARCY

  The Mountain Lane Motel was typical of its kind: two-storeyed, U-shaped around a courtyard, with a small swimming pool, trampoline and barbecue area on the back lawn. Cars were parked in front of most of the downstairs units.

  Inside unit three, Vinnie and Anna sat on the lounge floor with a map of New Zealand spread out between them. Magazines and brochures lay on the coffee table, and plastic bags of groceries had been dumped on the small kitchenette table in one corner.

  Vinnie circled areas on the map with a black felt-tip pen. ‘Time to make some final decisions, my lovely. Where are we going to look first?’

  Anna frowned and pointed at the map. ‘As I’ve said before, if they all make good wine, shouldn’t we look at other things too? Like climate.’

  He smiled at her. He needed to bring her with him, gently. ‘All this and you want to be warm as well?’

  ‘Lack of snow in winter would be very nice, close to the sea, good cafés and some nightlife.’

  He ran his hand down the map from Auckland to Otago. ‘Waiheke Island, Hawke’s Bay, Martinborough, Marlborough, Central Otago. Pinot is definitely Otago, but they’re hard grapes to grow and a complex wine to make, too complex for me at this stage. The Bordeaux blends that really float my boat, that’s Waiheke Island or Hawke’s Bay.’

  ‘And what we can afford.’

  Anna slumped back on her heels and looked out the ranch-slider door, which was covered by a frayed, thin curtain.

  He watched her for a moment, then moved across to her. ‘You’ve seen how many are listed on the internet and the prices they’re selling for. We can afford a very good life.’

  She smiled at him tenderly. ‘I know.’

  He stroked her cheek. The exhaustion and sadness in her eyes made him flinch inside. She was trying hard to be strong and positive, but for the moment her sparkle had gone.

  ‘And I know you miss home – so do I. The sooner we find our new one, the sooner we can have Merlot back. Then it will feel more like we belong here.’

  He took her hand and laid it across his chest, over his heart. ‘With your hand upon my heart,’ he said solemnly.

  Anna smiled again, and the flash of appreciation of the familiar, of their connection, reassured him.

  She took his hand and laid it across her chest, over her heart. It was their shorthand: whatever, wherever, whenever, they loved each other.

  ‘You make me stronger than I thought I could be,’ she replied.

  He kissed her gently on the lips. She started to giggle.

  ‘What do you find so amusing about my attempts to be romantic?’ he demanded.

  She grabbed him and started to laugh more loudly. ‘No, sorry, love. It’s not you, it’s just I had a black thought. Oh Lord! I wonder how our funeral went, and the will-reading. I wonder who came. What I wouldn’t have given to be a fly on the wall.’

  He straightened his back and drew himself up on his knees, his hands folded in prayer at his chest. ‘Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness –’

  Anna punched him on the arm and giggled. ‘Idiot! That’s the wedding service.’

  ‘Suitably morbid, I thought.’

  The little stone church in Sussex was packed for the joint funerals of Vincent and Anna Whitney-Ross and Vinnie’s mother, Mary, tragically killed together in a car accident. They had gone on a holiday, and Vinnie’s Mercedes had rolled and caught on fire on a road made treacherous by a heavy rainstorm. The charred corpses were identified by dental records.

  The three polished mahogany coffins, covered with long bouquets of bright flowers, lay on trollies at the foot of the altar. Many in the crowd were obviously upset. Anna’s three brothers sat in the front pew with their wives, and her three half-sisters huddled together in the pew behind.

  Half an hour later the crowd gathered in the church cemetery. The coffins were laid onto green straps above three open graves.

  An elderly vicar, with a leather-bound Bible in his hands, surveyed the crowd. ‘And so, dear friends and family, we gather here to say our last farewells to Mary, to Vincent and to Anna, taken so suddenly and tragically from us. And yet, their death is an illusion, for we know they live on.’

  He paused for effect, and then continued. ‘When I say that, what I mean is: when we keep our loved ones in our memories, in our hearts, they never really die. For we know that they are in the presence of God and we have not lost them. We should be comforted by the thought that they are, indeed, in a better place.’

  Anna’s brothers were approached at the simple wake by a lawyer, who told them he had acted for Mary Witney-Ross for years and asked them to attend the reading of the wills.

  ‘What happens in this situation, when they all die together?’

  The speaker was Anna’s brother, Philip.

  The lawyer looked from one to the other. He had seen the barely concealed avarice in their expressions so many times before.

  ‘I could read each will separately, but the situation here is very clear. Vinnie and Anna had the same provision: everything was left to the other should they pre-decease each other, and then it was all left to Mary. So, legally, Mary’s will is the only one that counts.’

  ‘She left everything to her mother-in-law?’ Philip’s tone was incredulous.

  ‘Yes, I understand they were very close. Unfortunately, Mary also died at the same time. She left everything to them, and then to a local animal charity, a dog’s home. So that’s where it will all go. But Anna did make one provision for the three of you.’

  The men were all staring at each other. The lawyer knew that expression too: it was the dawning realisation of the meaning of ‘cut out’. He rose and took the three small boxes that sat on the table. One by one he put them in front of the men.

  ‘She wanted you to have these.’

  Philip picked up his box. ‘A golf ball?’

  ‘Yes, I believe she said it was to go with your father’s golf clubs? She said you’d understand.’

  The Waiheke Island ferry sliced through the sparkling water of the Waitemata Harbour. Vinnie had read out the brochure description: ‘It’s a forty-five minute commute between downtown Auckland and Waiheke, and the population is increasingly working in the city and living the relaxed island life. It’s home to boutique wineries, orchards, olive oil makers, painters and craftspeople, and each summer sees an influx of tourists to the wonderful surf beaches.’ Anna had agreed it was definitely worth a trip to look at the three vineyards for sale on the island.

  Passengers sat inside, drinking coffee, reading papers or working on their laptops. Those outside lounged on the chairs fixed to the decks and basked in the sunshine. Vinnie and Anna leaned against the rail and watched the boats and the seabirds. His arm was around her shoulders, and she leaned her head on him. After all the stress and horror, the secrecy and the very real fear, he could, at last, feel his body starting to relax.

  New Zealand was a genuinely beautiful place – the people were welcoming and helpful and gave the impression that they enjoyed their surroundings. With every passing d
ay in their new country it seemed more likely that they could be happy here.

  A dolphin surfaced close to the boat and rode the bow wake. Anna saw it first and pointed excitedly.

  ‘Look, darling – a dolphin!’

  Vinnie took his camera from the pocket of his cargo pants and snapped a photo of it. ‘Stand against the rail and I’ll record your first venture onto Auckland harbour,’ he instructed.

  Anna leaned back and he moved the camera around until he got her, the dolphin and a passing yacht in the shot. She laughed with pleasure.

  The first winery was in the middle of the island, with no real sense of proximity to the water. The vines were well established and the machinery was adequate. They both liked the house, with its Mediterranean feel, terracotta-tiled roof and fountain in Italian-style gardens.

  Vinnie led Anna by the hand to a swinging seat, and they turned towards each other. ‘It’s very nice,’ he said, watching for her reaction.

  She nodded. ‘Yes, it is. It’s lovely.’

  ‘But?’

  She hesitated and then frowned. ‘There is a “but”. I don’t know what it is, Vin, but both of us can feel it.’

  He nodded slowly. ‘Not the right place for us, then.’

  He pulled a piece of crinkled paper from his pocket. ‘So, on to the next one. On the coast, called Rocky Bay. Is that an omen?’

  Rocky Bay Winery sat in a natural basin. On all sides the vines ran down gently sloping hills to the flat valley floor. Some of the vines were bare, and some still had red and golden leaves attached. Three buildings clustered around a concrete courtyard, and up on the rim sat a magnificent house, with views out to sea from the front and down to the vineyard from the back.

  Anna and Vinnie walked hand in hand down a sloping row, touching the vines on both sides and smiling at each other with growing excitement. They stopped, and he squatted to examine the plants and scoop up a handful of soil, then let it run between his fingers. He looked up at her and nodded. Her eyes shone back at him.

  At the foot of the row they wandered down to the courtyard. On one side was a storage shed, and on the other the top third of a building, with five square holes spaced evenly along it.

  Vinnie pointed back to the vines. ‘It’s simple but effective. After harvest the grapes are brought into the courtyard and sorted on a conveyer belt. Then they go through one of those holes and into the vat in the room below. Come and see.’

  He led her down concrete steps to the lower level, past the fermentation hall with its huge shiny silver vats and into the barrel hall. Round oak barrels lay stacked on their sides along both walls and down the middle, the whole length of the long hall.

  A woman in her mid-twenties stood waiting for them. Gabby McLean was the epitome of a winemaker, her frizzy brown hair tied in a messy ponytail, her short fingernails stained dark red, and her clothing practical, from the gumboots to the sweatband.

  When she saw them she broke into a wide smile. Nonetheless, Vinnie could see the anxiety, although she hid it well. It was a good operation, created with meticulous attention to detail, but the current owners had done all they could afford to do and it needed new capital. They had moved on and were keen for a quick sale and settlement. It was clear that Gabby’s passion and skill had maintained the extraordinary standard, and other owners had started calling her, but apparently she desperately wanted to stay.

  ‘So what do you think? Of the vines?’ she asked.

  Vinnie shook his head gently to show his respect. ‘Amazing, beautiful, so well looked after.’

  ‘Thank you! Now, the best bit: come and taste the result.’ Gabby beckoned to them to follow her into the hall and led them to one of the nearest barrels.

  ‘Almost ready to bottle,’ she explained as she dipped the slender glass wine thief into the barrel, drew out some deep red liquid and let it drain into a small wine glass. She held it up and swirled it around.

  ‘Mixed and left to settle again. A left-bank kind of Bordeaux, with a deep-press fraction of Cab Sav, Merlot, Cab Franc and Malbec.’

  She handed the glass to Vinnie. He breathed in the heady aroma a couple of times and then took a sip before handing the glass to Anna so she could do the same. Closing his eyes, he imagined drinking it on the far side of the world, removed from the source. The initial tastes were what he was expecting – cocoa, blackberry, French vanilla, cedar, cloves – but then other flavours surprised him – roasted red pepper all the way to new oak and a strong finish of white pepper. It was as complex as any comparable French wine he had ever tasted, and still had a long, long way to go before it reached maturity.

  His heart soared. ‘It’s beautiful, Gabby. A very, very fine wine.’

  The semi-circular tasting room was at the front of the house. Its huge picture windows looked out over tall cliffs to a bright green sea that boiled as it pounded the rocks. There were tables and chairs in groups over by the windows and stools pulled up to the curved bar. Bottles of wine lined the shelves behind the bar and filled display stands. Vinnie and Anna sat at one of the tables and looked at the view as they sipped the wine.

  ‘This house is gorgeous, so spacious. Imagine waking up to that view,’ Anna said quietly.

  Vinnie nodded. He could see excitement bubbling beneath her restraint, dreading to dream in case it was all in vain. The emptiness and pain of the past few weeks had melted away, though, and the sparkle was back in those green eyes.

  ‘The winery needs some investment, new machinery … but the vines are in excellent condition, and the winemaker definitely knows what she’s about.’

  ‘We could grow vegetables and fruit trees!’

  He laughed. ‘Goodness me, do I see a domestic goddess in the making? Does chocolate go with vegetables?’

  ‘Chocolate! Gabby said there’s a wonderful Saturday market. I’ll start with stuff I can make in the kitchen.’

  ‘Oh, good Lord in heaven, do we have enough cash to pay danger money to the whole island?’

  She glared at him in mock anger. ‘I could never divorce you, Mr Darcy, but I’m seriously considering murder.’

  His eyebrows shot up. The repartee was as solid as ever. It showed him that she knew him, she understood the need for verbal parry and thrust, for the humour to help him cope with the horror they’d left behind.

  ‘Really? Do you want lessons? Sorry, too soon?’

  She stifled a laugh and took a quick sip of the wine. He held his glass over towards hers. It was time to make a stand and start a new life – this place suddenly felt like the right environment in which to do that.

  ‘We need to stay on the island for a few days, have a look around and do a serious trawl through the books, but in principle, is it a yes, Mrs Darcy?’

  She touched her glass against his. ‘Very much a yes, Mr Darcy.’

  The next day started at the Saturday-morning Ostend market. It was a busy place; the concrete paths that snaked between lush patches of grass were crowded with families eating, drinking and buying. The wooden tables were piled high with produce and handmade gifts.

  Vinnie and Anna tasted olives, cheeses, preserves, breads and oysters, and sampled wine from some of the local wineries.

  They were examining some handmade paper when a redhead approached them.

  ‘Mr and Mrs Darcy?’

  For a second they ignored her, and then they turned towards her in unison. She wore a long tie-dyed dress and lots of jewellery.

  ‘Yes, sorry – miles away. I’m Dominic and this is Ava,’ Vinnie said.

  She shook their hands. ‘I’m Louisa Logan. I do wine tours, and I’m a potter and I also run the market. I understand you want to talk to me about a stall?’

  Anna took up the conversation. ‘We’re looking at buying here, a winery. We’re recent arrivals from London. I’m a chocolatier and I had a market stall at Covent Garden. I make chocolate treats – dipped fruit, truffles, desserts, that sort of thing. I had a commercial kitchen, but I’d look at homemade small-scale,
at least to start with.’

  Louisa clasped her hands together. ‘That would be wonderful, my dear! We’d be delighted to have you. The winter would give you time to get established before the next summer rush.’

  Vinnie nodded at her. ‘We’ve heard about this summer rush.’

  ‘About eight thousand people live here year-round, but during the height of summer we can get around forty thousand extra bodies. The great thing is that most of them only come for the day.’

  A golden Labrador stopped beside Anna, and she stooped to pat it. ‘I see you’re a dog person,’ Louisa said to her.

  The dog went from Anna to Vinnie and back again, its tail wagging furiously as they both stroked its head and body.

  ‘We left our Lab, Merlot, behind,’ Anna explained, still looking at the dog, ‘but he’ll join us when we’re settled.’

  ‘Oh you poor things, you must miss him!’

  They exchanged glances, and Vinnie smiled at her. ‘We do, very much.’

  ‘We have two dogs and two cats. Come for a meal and you can spoil them to your heart’s delight.’

  ‘Thank you, that’s very kind. We’d love to.’

  After a seafood lunch on the veranda of a local restaurant, it was time to take in a beach. Onetangi was a long stretch of white sand, peopled by bodies on towels, children building sandcastles, and hardy souls taking a dip in the blue sea. It was mid-autumn and eventually the warmth in the sun would fade and the rain would come, so for now everyone was making the most of the Indian summer.

  Anna was sitting on a towel, eating a huge peach. Vinnie had been for a walk, and he stopped a short distance away and watched her for a moment before joining her. She held a slice of peach out towards him, but he just opened his mouth, so she cut the slice in half and popped half in.

  ‘God, I love the fruit in this country,’ she said.

  The juice ran down his chin, and she wiped it away.

  ‘That’s incredibly sexy. Can I have the other half, wench?’