A Vintage Summer

by Cathy Bramley

  I opened my mouth to protest, but Betsy shushed me. ‘You’re part of the family now, Lottie, and Ted would want you to have it. Besides, you’ve run this place almost single-handedly this year, I’ve no doubt you’ll go from strength to strength.’

  ‘It’s a lovely gesture, Gran,’ said Jensen, tapping his own letter into his palm, ‘as is giving me an even bigger stake in the business, but Lottie is going to have her hands full next year; I don’t think it’s fair to expect too much.’

  Betsy pursed her lips imperiously. ‘I’m well aware of that, which is why I’ve sold another share to Sidney. In exchange for a lump sum – which I’ve used to buy the bungalow with Marjorie – Sidney will be our Master Winemaker.’

  I laughed with delight and kissed Sidney’s cheek. ‘That’s fantastic news!’

  ‘The others have each been given a small share too,’ Betsy continued. ‘So that when we’re making a profit they’ll be rewarded for their loyalty and hard work.’

  Sidney’s eyes twinkled. ‘I’ve been bursting to tell you. I’m not going to interfere but we can work on that still wine we were talking about and I’ve got some ideas for pest control I’d like to discuss with you too. But you’re still the boss.’

  I grinned. ‘I like the sound of that. And you needn’t worry about maternity cover, Betsy, because I’ll still be able to come over every day from Fernfield with the baby through spring and everyone says they’ll pitch in. And Pippa will be back in February from her travels.’

  Pippa had handed her notice in at the library and was spending the winter touring vineyards in New Zealand and Australia. I’d decided to postpone doing a viticulture course for a year, but Pippa was going to do it instead, so Butterworth Wines would still benefit from the new knowledge. Adam and Nicky would be moving out of the Allbright family home in a couple of weeks and I’d have just enough time to get a room ready for the baby before it arrived.

  ‘No need to be in Fernfield,’ Betsy said with a sniff. ‘I’ll be gone so there’ll be plenty of empty rooms here. A much easier commute, don’t you think?’

  I blinked at her. ‘Well, I do think, but—’

  ‘That’s a relief!’ Marjorie clapped a hand to her chest. ‘Because we’ve already told your father, love, and he’s told his tenants they can stay.’

  Jensen and I gazed at each other in amazement.

  ‘And it’ll be rent-free, of course,’ Betsy continued. ‘Perk of the job. I was going to offer the house to Jensen anyway but, dear boy, I know you’re still firmly rooted in London for the time being.’

  ‘Actually,’ he scratched his head self-consciously, ‘I’ve resigned. From January I’m going to be setting up my own business.’ He squeezed me to his side. ‘I can be based wherever I like. And I quite like it here.’

  This had been entirely his decision, although I might have sown the tiniest seed by suggesting that because he wanted to be around when the baby came, to be a hands-on dad, perhaps now might be a good time to do his own thing, like he’d always planned.

  ‘Bravo!’ cried Marjorie, punching the air.

  ‘Well …!’ Betsy gasped, speechless for once.

  ‘And there’s one more piece of news.’ I checked with Jensen who nodded.

  ‘We’ve set the date for the wedding,’ I said excitedly. ‘Easter Saturday.’

  Jensen threaded his fingers through mine and drew me closer. ‘So the baby can be there with us.’

  ‘It’s perfect,’ Betsy sniffed, pulling her hanky back out of her sleeve. ‘Just perfect.’

  ‘And not only that,’ said Sidney, rubbing his hands together, ‘it’s also the perfect excuse to pop open a bottle of the new vintage.’

  ‘I’ll drink to that,’ said Marjorie, waggling her eyebrows.

  Jensen reached for the bottle that had been sitting on the bottom step, put there earlier in readiness for just this moment. He peeled off the foil cap and wire and with an expert twist of his wrist the cork came out with a refined ‘phut’.

  ‘Just a small one for me,’ said Betsy, twisting a finger through her pearls, and we all laughed.

  It was good to know that some things, at least, never changed.

  ‘Why don’t we let the next Mrs Butterworth propose a toast?’ said Marjorie, when we’d all got a drink.

  I took a breath and glanced down to the valley below. The low sun lent a silvery glow to the winter landscape, completely different to the view on a summer’s day, but it had a beauty all of its own. The vines were bare now, and it was almost impossible to imagine that only a couple of months ago they’d been green and bowed down with fruit. But they’d bud again in spring, new shoots would appear, and the circle of life would begin again. This vineyard had brought me so much more than just a job: it was my haven, my happy place and the start of a new chapter in my life. My hand stole to my stomach and I felt our baby, who we reckoned was nine-parts boxer and one-part acrobat, move beneath my fingers. And next year, another new chapter, a new family and home.

  ‘Not like you to be short of words,’ Jensen whispered playfully.

  There was love in his voice as his hand crept over mine and I felt his warmth wrap itself around me like a blanket. My heart skipped a beat; even now I had to pinch myself that he was mine.

  I looked into his eyes as I raised my glass.

  ‘To new life, love and another vintage summer.’

  The Thank Yous

  Thank you to my talented, patient and wise agents for helping me through this book. I was lucky enough to have two in 2018 – Caroline Hardman and Hannah Ferguson from Hardman Swainson. I thank you (and congratulate you) both from the bottom of my heart for doing such a good job on my behalf.

  Thanks as ever to the wonderful team at Transworld who have helped put the fizz into A Vintage Summer (see what I did there): Francesca Best, Molly Crawford, Julia Teece, Sophie Bruce and Hannah Bright.

  My interest in vineyards began ten years ago on an unforgettable holiday at Chateau Bauduc near Bordeaux with my friends Lucy Nicholson and Linda Lawler. So thank you, ladies, for planting that initial seed which took ten years to mature!

  Once I’d got my story premise, I needed to research the English wine industry and three vineyards in particular have been extremely helpful. Special thanks to Helenka Brown at Hanwell Wines, who gave up a lot of her time to answer my questions and let me join in with the 2017 harvest! Thank you to Helenka’s parents, Tony and Veronica Skuriat, owners of Eglantine Vineyard, who showed me their winery and gave me lots of useful details about tending vines. A big thank you to Ben Hunt at Halfpenny Green Wine Estate who let me into his lab and taught me lots of technical stuff to do with making sparkling wine. Any errors are all mine!

  Thank you to two ladies who helped with my questions about pregnancy: Issy Bourton and Hannah Barker. Apologies for the weird questions and for making Hannah over-share. While we’re on health matters, thank you to my lovely Nanna for helping me with Betsy’s story and her struggle with macular degeneration. Also thank you to Lisa Ward for her in-depth knowledge of ambulances!

  Last year I set up a Facebook group called Cathy Bramley’s Book Club. This warm-hearted and friendly community has helped me enormously, not only by helping me with details such as character names, but by encouraging me with their kind messages and glowing reviews. Thank you so much, dear members, it is lovely to have your support.

  To the Literary Hooters: what wonderful friends you are, I am lucky to have you and cherish our little club dearly. Thank you for your love, wisdom and ability to make me laugh through everything.

  Lastly, to Tony, Phoebe and Isabel, my thanks and love always.

  Cathy xxx

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  TRANSWORLD PUBLISHERS

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  penguin.co.uk

  Transworld is part of the Penguin Random House group of companies whose addresses can be found at global.penguinrandomhouse.com.

  First published in Great Britain in 2019 by Corgi Books

  an imprint of Transworld Publishers

  Copyright © Cathy Bramley 2019

  Cover illustration by Sarah Tanat-Jones

  Cover design by Beci Kelly/TW

  Cathy Bramley has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Every effort has been made to obtain the necessary permissions with reference to copyright material, both illustrative and quoted. We apologize for any omissions in this respect and will be pleased to make the appropriate acknowledgements in any future edition.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

  ISBN 9781473542839

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

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