Sweet From the Vine

by Jacquie Underdown

  ‘You did really well with the wine show this morning. I was impressed.’

  He pretended to wipe his brow. ‘Phew. I never know if I sound like a wanker or not when I do that type of thing.’

  ‘You were yourself, who wine lovers around the globe will now absolutely fall in love with.’

  ‘Let’s hope so.’

  ‘So are you prepared for your speech and the general schedule for today?’ Matilda asked.

  ‘As ready as I can be.’

  ‘Good. Of course, I’ll be able to prompt you throughout the night if you get a little distracted.’

  He laughed. ‘I don’t plan to have a single drink, other than for toasts, until after the announcements.’

  She flicked her hair behind her shoulder. ‘Me either. But let me tell you, once the formalities are over, I’m letting my hair down. After a week like this, I deserve a drink.’

  ‘But you look so composed.’

  ‘On the outside, Mitch,’ she said with a grin. ‘Years of practice.’

  He chuckled. ‘Nice to know I’m not the only one then.’

  As the evening sun sank slowly behind the mountains and the exquisite light feature illumed the space in a dull glow, all of the guests had arrived and every seat along the table’s length was filled with chatting, laughing excitement.

  Mitch sat towards the head of the table with his brothers, their partners and Matilda. Bottles of the vineyard’s white wine sat in ice buckets beside them and red wines stood proudly upon the table.

  Matilda got to her feet. She took her position at the head of the table to address the guests, microphone in her hand. ‘Good evening and welcome to the Mathews Family Vineyard.’

  The guests clapped and cheered, already the buzz from the wine apparent.

  ‘It is an absolute pleasure to have each and every one of you sharing this momentous night with us. We have the honour of welcoming leaders and valued residents of this amazing town to share this table with us. Mitch, Tom and Sam Mathews along with all the staff here at Mathews Family Vineyard recognise that this amazing vineyard and winery would be nothing without the support of the local region. So, not only do we welcome you here tonight, but we also thank you.’

  Again claps and cheers.

  Mitch watched Matilda on the centre stage speak so honestly and emphatically to all the guests. She was a true professional. And utterly breathtaking as he drank in her words.

  After a few moments, she met his gaze and smiled. ‘Mitch, I would love for you to join me and say a few brief words.’

  He grinned, straightened his shirt as he stood.

  He went to her side and kissed her cheek as she passed him the microphone. ‘Thank you, Matilda,’ he said. She remained beside him—a support.

  His heart warmed with gratitude that she had his back.

  With a smile, he turned to face the table of guests. All the faces, some familiar, some not, were grinning up at him, awaiting his words and what surged up inside him was gratefulness.

  With all the pain of the last couple of years, sharing this night with his town and his family, the future was bright before him. Somehow, in a way he couldn’t quite work out, having Matilda support him as she had since the very first day she started work here, had eased the pressure that was building inside him.

  Despite the hectic pace of the week, it was organised chaos. And it was fun. He, without realising until now, was feeling human again.

  He shoved aside the pre-prepared speech he and Matilda had written and decided to go off-the-cuff from his heart.

  ‘Two months ago, Matilda James decided to come on board with us here. Her first role was to work out what we stood for here at Mathews Family Vineyard. It should have been obvious, but for years it has evaded us on an intellectual level.

  ‘Sure, with the culture we have created here and what we know as truth on an emotional level within our hearts, we walked the walk. But our talk—we couldn’t pin it down. So we’ve been trying to determine what we, above all else, value here. What we, above all else, want to convey when you open up a bottle of our wine at your family dinner table or share a glass with close friends or dine with your loved one in a restaurant.

  ‘And we pinned it down. The answer is legacy. My father, Stephen Mathews, had a vision. But not only did he have a vision, he had a way of living and loving and being. And he passed that on to us, his family. And we take that legacy and we carry it forward with everything we do here. We honour him and that legacy.

  ‘Above all else, the legacy he left for us was family. I … we value nothing more. So when you share a wine here tonight with your neighbour or loved one or your family member, that’s what I want you to experience—closeness, acceptance and above all else, love.

  ‘I don’t say that lightly. It hasn’t been easy for us here over the last couple of years. Our personal tragedy has been a difficult road to walk, but together we are coming through it. Together, we banded and kept the culture going and made it even stronger. So thank you all so much for being here tonight with my family. As Matilda said, we couldn’t do this without you all.’

  He reached for his glass that sat on the table and lifted it in the air. ‘To family,’ he said.

  ‘To family,’ his guests chorused lifting their own glasses in the air.

  Mitch handed the microphone back to Matilda. ‘Thanks, Mitch. You may well be aware, catering the night is celebrity chef James Ballard. He will be joining us shortly with a five course menu that showcases ingredients the local region has to offer. So while we roll out the banquet, sit back, enjoy the food, enjoy the wine and enjoy the company.’

  Matilda and Mitch took their seats and within a few moments, James was leading a team of waiters down the hill towards the tables. He was dressed in his chef whites and wore an enormous grin. A camera crew followed him.

  With the sun tucked away for the night, the space remained well lit. Soft music played through the speaker system, yet even with the accompanying chatter, the chirp of crickets was unable to be drowned out.

  Single plates of food were placed in front of every guest along with a new wine to be paired with the meal. James stood at the head of the table and explained what they would be eating—venison tartare with beetroot, capers and goats cheese mousse—which was all sourced locally.

  Matilda moaned after her first mouthful and Mitch inclined his head to look at her. He’d heard that sound before and it ignited memories of intimacy.

  ‘James is a genius,’ she said.

  He smiled. ‘I have to agree.’

  With the sighs, moans and exclamations echoing down the length of the table, it was the guest’s general consensus too.

  After that, three more savoury dishes were served with an array of red and white wines, topped off by dessert, which was paired with their sweetest riesling vintage.

  Presentations soon followed, accompanied by promotional images that flashed on the big screen behind Mitch and his brothers as they unveiled the new line. Only then did he fully grasp the amount of work Matilda had put in to not only this event tonight but all the advertising.

  His speech was emotional, more so than Mitch felt while writing it, perhaps because of the atmosphere and occasion or maybe because he was a little tired as the night wore on.

  Standing in front of the important folk from his town, most of them who had been there from the very beginning, tears had threatened to crawl up his throat and cloud his eyes, especially when he spoke about Dad and when Rachel’s beautiful face appeared on the screen behind him.

  But he got through.

  Interviews followed while their guests grew merrier and then eventually they all petered away home.

  By eleven o’clock only Mitch, his brothers, Ellie, Amy and Matilda were left sitting between the vines at a long, empty table. Crews had been hired to pack everything away, and they were quietly going about their duties around them.

  ‘Done,’ Mitch said leaning back in his chair. The bus’s engine with
the last of their guests, roared in the distance as it skirted along the track out of there.

  ‘Change this bloody music,’ Sam said. ‘Classical music all night long, it nearly drove me mad.’

  Mitch chuckled.

  Matilda leant over the table and rested her hand on Sam’s forearm. ‘We chose it specifically to piss you off.’

  ‘I wouldn’t doubt that.’

  ‘Oh my god, what a night,’ Tom said, followed by a long sigh. ‘It went well, but I am so glad it’s over. Do not expect me in tomorrow until ten.’

  For the next week, to capitalise on the launch, they were running regular tours and wine tasting. Mitch and his brothers, under Matilda’s strict orders, had to be involved in all activities on varying levels.

  Ellie stood. Sam followed suit. She came to Matilda and kissed her cheek. ‘You are a superstar. Congrats on tonight. It was truly wonderful.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Matilda said with a bashful grin.

  Sam kissed her cheek too. ‘I agree with everything my better half said.’

  ‘Thanks, Sam.’

  Sam reached his arms above his head and stretched. ‘But that’s me done for the night. This man needs his sleep.’

  ‘Piker,’ coughed Tom. ‘You men with your responsibilities.’

  Sam patted his brother on the back. ‘Your day will come soon enough. And I’ll be there to rub it in your face.’

  They said goodnight and headed off hand in hand.

  ‘And that just leaves us,’ Tom said.

  Mitch yawned as he faced Matilda. ‘Next time you suggest we do so much in a single day, I’m going to question it.’

  Matilda yawned too, covering her mouth. ‘Please do. What was I thinking?’

  ‘Honestly, it was a huge success,’ he said with a smile. A smile Tom and Amy both mirrored. ‘You deserve congratulating.’

  ‘And so do you guys. Well done on the interviews. Anyone would think you’ve been doing it for years.’

  Mitch glanced at Tom and grinned. They had done well. There were the few awkward moments, but that was unavoidable. Overall, the night was near perfect.

  ‘I didn’t know you were going to dedicate the night to Rachel,’ Amy said. ‘I think my mascara was all over my face. I had never seen those images you chose. They captured her spirit … beautifully.’

  Mitch’s heart stirred as it did every time Rachel’s name was mentioned and every time he recalled how much he loved her. ‘It was Matilda’s idea. And I think it was the right thing to do.’

  Matilda nodded but didn’t meet his gaze. Perhaps that was a sore subject considering the near argument they’d had. He still felt like an arse about that.

  He narrowed his eyes, sat upright. ‘How are you getting home tonight, Matilda? I didn’t even think—’

  ‘Matilda is staying with us tonight,’ Amy said.

  Mitch sighed with relief. ‘Great.’

  ‘Speaking of home,’ Tom said. ‘I think I’m going to have to love and leave you too.’

  The three of them stood.

  ‘I get the hint,’ Mitch said. ‘I guess that means no spa back at my place?’

  Tom laughed. ‘You wish.’

  Mitch chuckled.

  Amy leant over and kissed his cheek. ‘Good night, Mitch. Congrats on a successful evening.’

  He winked. ‘Thanks. Goodnight.’

  Tom slapped his back. ‘See ya tomorrow. But not too early.’

  Matilda smiled at him. ‘Good night.’

  He smiled back, not missing how she kept her professional distance. Off limits. ‘Good night.’

  By the time Mitch ensured the crew left to clean up were under control, he walked back to his place. It had been a long time since he’d done this. The quiet was soothing. The big night sky was swarming with tiny flickering stars. A cold chill had crept across the vineyard, but nothing like the zero temperatures they had a fortnight ago.

  He trudged up the stairs of his house, a mixture of weariness and exhilaration. All in all, the night couldn’t have been better. What his dad had worked so hard to achieve was finally out there, made known to the masses.

  After a long hot shower, he crept into Sophie’s nursery and kissed her goodnight before heading to his room and falling into his own bed amidst the darkness.

  The feelings that were conjured during the night of connectedness, family, and love, filled his soul. As he drifted off to sleep, his head was filled not with sorrow or yearning but of Matilda.

  Never, not one night, since Rachel had died, had he ever thought of anyone else before falling to sleep.

  Not until he woke the next morning did he even realise.

  Chapter 13

  Alpine Ridge in spring was as pretty as a canvas, vibrant with colour. The brushstrokes of green in every shade imaginable blanketed the town—trees, grasses, and plants bloomed with vibrancy.

  Driving towards the mountains, the sun shone like a bright beacon from overhead, drenching the day with a vividness she had long forgotten about after over a decade spent in murky, bustling cities. It brought the scenery into crystal clear focus while tainting everything with a warm glow.

  Overhanging trees with small rounded leaves of lime green flanked the road. She could not have chosen a more exquisite season to come home to.

  Home. There was that word again. Although, now, with her own house, her position at the vineyard, and back close to her family, it was a feeling. A sense of contentedness and rightness. The sensation of curling up in her own bed after a long trip away and sleeping soundly all night long.

  The busy fortnight leading up to and after the launch event had been hectic, but in a good way, like going to the gym and working muscles until they ached, yet the energy and sense of wellbeing was worth the effort.

  Delving deep into the heart of the vineyard and creating an advertising campaign that communicated what was at its core had reignited her passion for her profession. It had also reignited her passion for this town and her sense of place and connectedness within it.

  Matilda gripped the steering wheel and allowed her gaze to capture the surrounding landscape. She rolled past small cottages with timber picket fences. Thin cement pathways bordered the road. Families strolled alongside her as she passed, making their way down to the busy markets that were held the first Sunday of every month here.

  Today was her first day off without the weight of the campaign on her shoulders. It was over. With all the news coverage and media promotions, the return-on-investment with respect to a spike in sales of pre-existing stock and visitors-in-the-door had proven successful.

  And it would only increase as television shows aired the footage they had taken leading up to December, and Matilda orchestrated the final blast of advertising right before and upon the new line’s release.

  With all the frenetic activity, which many nights she had taken home work to complete, she had cancelled her date with Brad Meyers. He had taken the news well and said that when she had free time that she give him a call.

  Mum had been a little disappointed, but deep down she knew as well as Matilda did that the reason for her cancelling the date had little to do with a lack of downtime and plenty to do with Mitch Mathews.

  Matilda found a park behind the bitumen car park on a vast grassed area. She wanted to find some plants and flowers for her garden she was planning to start back at her house. They also had a lot of homemade pickles, chutney and spices she intended to buy.

  She wondered what Oscar would say if she told him what she was doing today and about to purchase. He would laugh and make some ignorant comment about the country and its folk. Comments she used to laugh off as light-hearted taunting, but now she could see were actually quite patronising.

  Oscar had never truly accepted her small-town roots. And maybe she was partially to blame for that because she behaved as though it was something to be embarrassed about.

  A squeeze of guilt filled her belly. It may explain why she hadn’t made it back here for visits as
much as she would have liked since being married.

  After spending last Friday night with the best this town had to offer, she knew for a fact that Alpine Ridge should be celebrated, and she was proud to have sprung from this community.

  Bag slung over her shoulder, she strode towards the big clearing surrounded by a wall of eucalypts. A flowing river, hued with a tea-stained brown but crystal clear so that she could see the rocky bed beneath, ran from the top of the mountains and carved a path through the thick growth of trees.

  Little canopies, in concentric circles, filled the cleared space. People milled about looking at the collection of tables bearing small-town wares.

  When she was younger, she had loved coming to these markets with her friends. She worked part-time at the local newsagency to earn some cash, so she would stock up on cheap bracelets and necklaces, clothes and hair accessories any chance she could get.

  She fingered the gold chain with a teardrop diamond that dangled against her breastbone and smiled. Her tastes had changed a lot since then, but the underlying girl she had been, what was truly at her essence, hadn’t changed a bit.

  Especially now the curtains had been peeled back and the magic fairy dust had dissipated, she could see the truth of what existed in her heart.

  Matilda wandered past various makeshift shops offering knick-knacks from timber cutting-boards to natural healing balms. She stopped at a small canopy that stocked clothes racks filled with knitted baby cardigans, printed towels and fluffy booties.

  She couldn’t help herself from ogling all the pastel-coloured cuteness. Her heart buzzed with desire for that day when she would get to take these items home with her.

  It still surprised her, even though she had well and truly accepted this new-found desire, how much she physically and emotionally wanted a child for herself.

  ‘These might be a bit too small for you,’ came a deep voice beside her.

  She jolted, throwing her hand to her chest, and looked across to see Mitch standing beside her. He was wearing a baseball cap on his head, sunglasses, a pale blue t-shirt and denim jeans.