Between the Vines (28 page)

“Pete?”

He turned as Taylor spoke his name. She was looking at him quizzically.

“Sorry?”

“Do you mind if I take photos of the winery?”

“No.”

“I'm toying with an idea for a blog. I'll run it past you first.”

“That's fine. Did you talk to Felicity about the Facebook ideas you had?”

“Not yet.”

A vehicle pulled up outside. Pete turned back to the window. Tension coursed through him.

“Ed's here.”

Taylor tugged at her shirt collar. “I'll get going.”

“Taylor.”

She stopped mid-stride and turned back.

“I hope it's not too uncomfortable for you.”

She tipped her head to one side.

“Working with Ed.”

“Oh, no. We're fine.”

As she said it the key sounded in the outer door.

“I'll go do the plunging,” she said.

She turned her back on him. “Good morning, Ed,” she said brightly.

“Taylor.” Ed's reply was gruff.

Taylor moved off in the direction of the winery door and Ed took her place, framed by Pete's office door.

“I see you and Howard have been checking the NS18.”

Pete felt himself stiffen. How did Ed know?

“What are you looking so guilty about?” Ed grinned. “I know Howard's helping you with it. It makes sense. He helped us plant the canes. What does he think?”

“Think?”

“Is it ready yet?”

“A bit longer yet.” Pete turned his back on Ed's searching eyes and pretended to look for something on his desk. How was he going to pull this off?

“Can't be far away surely. They taste right to me. I've got the machines tentatively booked for Thursday.”

“You've booked machines?” Pete spun around. “I'm the winemaker and I want to hand-pick.”

Ed's eyes narrowed. “Take it easy, Peter. You've had some trouble getting machines this vintage. I know how important it is for you to pick the NS18 when it's ready. I thought I was being helpful.”

Pete studied his brother a moment. It was usually up to Pete to book the machines.

“I didn't know you'd booked pickers.” Ed strolled to the window and looked out, his back to Peter. “When will they be here?”

“Thursday.” Pete took a deep breath. His nerves were making him overreact. “Sorry.” He looked back at his desk. Damn, he was hopeless at lies.

“Are we fairly clear tomorrow?”

“I think so.” Pete kept shuffling papers.

“I'm going to have to make a run to Mount Gambier.”

“The Mount?” Pete straightened and risked a look back over his shoulder. “Why?”

“I've come to an arrangement with Mr Zhu.”

Pete's discomfort changed to suspicion. “I thought you'd let the partnership go.”

“I have.” Ed turned from the window and looked him straight in the eye. “For now. But he's taken a consignment of our shiraz.”

“You didn't tell me about that.”

“I didn't want to until it was all sorted. I had to wait on the bottling
analysis.”

“Which shiraz?”

“I did the maths on the last lot we sent out. We had enough for our domestic commitments and some left over to give us a start with Mr Zhu.”

“But the labels have to be different.”

“All taken care of. I had Felicity help me. We've kept the Wriggly Creek design but added a sprig of eucalyptus. I'll show you later.”

Pete felt pinned against his desk by Ed's gaze.

“I guess it's worth a try.”

“Of course it is.”

Pete relaxed and sat his bum on the desk behind. If Ed could sell wine to China without consulting him, Pete didn't feel so bad about picking the NS18 without letting Ed know. “When are you going to the Mount?”

“Tomorrow morning. I have to get the documentation there first thing. Waste of a morning but it has to be done.”

“You'll be leaving early then.”

“About seven, why?”

Pete shrugged his shoulders. “Just wondered.”

“I might even go earlier. The pipe supply place is usually open early. I could collect those new hoses we wanted while I'm there.”

“Good idea.”

Ed moved over to the whiteboard where they had the plan set out of all the tanks and open-top fermenters. “It's going to be tight. Yields are well above average. I think the NS18 will be okay in that end tank.”

Pete gritted his teeth. He was determined to use his dad's original open-top cement tanks for the NS18 but he didn't want to argue with Ed about it now.

Ed turned back. “I'm heading in to Coonawarra. I'm meeting Fred from Vales Wines. They've just started selling to the Chinese and I want to pick his brains some more.”

“Right. I'll see you later then.”

“Maybe not till tomorrow afternoon. I've got a few other things to do this afternoon. You and Antoine have the ferments under control?”

“Yes, and Taylor's been a great help.”

Ed gave him a sharp look. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

Pete waited until the outside door shut and Ed's four-wheel drive started up then he sank into his chair and put his head in his hands.

Relief flooded though him. He didn't have to spin his yarn to get Ed away. Ed was doing it all by himself. Pete wasn't happy he'd been left out of the Chinese deal but he was hardly in a position to take his brother to task over it. He could finish planning for the picking tomorrow. They might have to start a little later than he'd hoped but they should get a good go at it before Ed returned.

Once more footsteps echoed in the passage. This time Antoine appeared at his door.

“I don't think we're going to fit all of the cab sauv in the tank.”

“Is it coming in already?” Pete stood up.

“First truck's just unloaded but they've hardly made a dent in what's to be picked.”

Pete had been out at first light to watch the machines begin picking. Today's grapes would eventually be bottled as their entry-level cab sauv. He hadn't bunch thinned this block. The vines were healthy. He wanted to see how far he could push them.

Antoine had come right into the office and was studying the whiteboard just as Ed had been doing only a few minutes before. “It's going to be tight.”

“You can use the tank next door.”

Antoine bent closer to the board. “That's where you're putting the NS18.”

“No. I haven't written it on there yet but I've decided to use Dad's old cement tanks for that.”

“In the back shed?”

“I patched the roof during the winter and gave the whole place a good clean-out. I've waxed the tanks. It will be perfect.”

“If you say so.”

“I do. Ed's just been in. He's going to Mount Gambier first thing tomorrow.”

Antoine let out a low whistle.

“We might not start picking until seven but we won't have to worry about Ed.” Pete picked up his cap and squashed it on over his spongy curls. His day was looking much brighter now.

Taylor felt a tingle of excitement as she boiled the kettle in the quarters. Outside it was barely light but she could hear an excited babble of voices from the group of people gathered ready to start picking the grapes from Pete's precious cabernet vines. Pete was moving amongst them, welcoming them, bringing them up to speed with the day's procedure. Evidently there'd been some dew overnight so not only had they waited for Ed to leave, now they had to wait for the grapes to dry.

Pete had introduced her to everyone but she remembered few of the names. Ben she knew from his work in the winery. There was his wife Jane, and Howard the old bloke she'd met in the lab and his wife Margaret, a couple who'd been family friends for years. Then there were at least six others who were in the district temporarily for vintage, backpackers mostly who looked for work to supplement their travels. Margaret was taking orders for coffee and tea and Taylor was making them. Margaret had also produced some delicious-smelling savoury scones which she handed out with the hot cuppas.

“That's everyone that wants one, dear.” Margaret came back inside, the skin of her cheeks pink from the chilly outside air. “Only you and me left. Make mine tea please.”

Taylor put tea bags in two cups and lifted the kettle as it switched itself off.

“You seem to be settling in very well here.” Margaret pulled out a chair and sat at the table.

“I'm enjoying it.”

“They can always do with an extra pair of willing hands at this
time of the year.” Margaret studied her with a kind gaze.

“It seems so.”

“You don't miss the city?”

“Not much.”

“I bet the boys are grateful for your cooking.”

Taylor handed Margaret a cup of tea. “There doesn't seem to be much you don't know about me.”

“Oh there's plenty I'm sure. Have you ever picked grapes before?”

“Only a few bunches from my parents' vines.”

“So you have family back in the city?”

Before Taylor could answer, Howard and Antoine came inside carrying handfuls of cups.

“Enough of your gasbagging Margaret,” Howard said fondly. “Time to get started.”

“I'll wash these dishes first and then I'll be there.”

“I'll help.” Taylor felt torn. She wanted to be part of the action out at the vines right from the start.

“No.” Margaret had the water running in the sink. “It won't take me long. I'll leave them to drain. You go with the others, dear. I'll be there in a jiffy.”

Taylor didn't argue. She could tell there'd be no point. She picked up her camera and her jacket and stepped outside to follow the group to the vines.

Pete had gone ahead in his ute. He was waiting for them next to a couple of portable shades that hadn't been there yesterday. He started issuing buckets and snips from the tray of his ute. Once everyone was ready he plucked two bunches of grapes from a bucket at his feet.

“This is what I don't want,” he said. “Anything too thin and scraggly like this.” He held one hand forward. Once they'd all looked he dropped the bunch on the ground. “And no rotten or dried up bunches or ones the birds have pecked.” Once more he showed
around the bunch from his hand then dropped it to the ground. “Cut them but leave them on the ground.” He lifted two more bunches from a different bucket. “This is what I'm looking for.”

Taylor studied the perfect-looking bunch, worried she'd get it wrong. Pete was so serious.

“Antoine, Taylor and you two.” Pete pointed to two from the seasonal picking group. “You take the first row. Howard, you and Margaret can have two with you in the second row, Ben, Jane, and the last two will start at the third row. I'll keep the buckets empty for you. Take a bottle of water whenever you need.” Pete waved at the esky sitting under the shade. “Let's go.”

There was a murmur of voices as everyone moved to their rows.

“Weather's still warm so watch out for snakes,” Pete called after them.

Taylor stared at Antoine. “Snakes?”

“Amongst other things.” He grinned at her as did the young man and woman who'd come with them. “You'll be okay. Stay this side with me. Alice and Leo can take the other side.”

She and Antoine were on the open side of the first row. A few metres behind them was the track and the first sheds of the winery. Taylor knew Pete's office window looked over these vines.

She watched as Antoine peered under the leaves and snipped the first bunch. Taylor had a go, looked at what she'd picked and dropped it to the ground. She did the same with the second bunch. At this rate Pete wouldn't have any grapes to make wine with. But by the time they'd moved further along the row she was surprised to see her bucket was half full of healthy bunches and Antoine's held even more. Leo and Alice were about level with them on the other side, the sound of their friendly banter interspersed with the click of the snips.

Pete strode towards them holding two empty buckets. “How're you going?”

“Good,” Taylor said, taking the opportunity to straighten her back.

“She's a fast learner,” Antoine said.

Pete swapped their buckets. “Don't forget to drink plenty of water,” he said and set off with their full buckets.

The rays of the morning sun were already warming the vines. Taylor took a few swigs from her water bottle. She'd soon be discarding her jumper and she needn't have brought her coat. With the warmth came the bees. They buzzed in and out around the grapes and the odd beetle gave her a start. Pete came and went, ferrying the loaded buckets to the bin on the back of the tractor.

They stopped for a break when they reached the end of the row. Everyone gathered under or near the shades. Margaret had a large thermos of boiling water for tea and coffee along with a batch of sweet scones, jam and cream. Taylor was glad of a coffee. She'd been drinking water but had left her early morning tea when the call had come to start picking.

She watched Pete making his way in her direction. He was a good boss, talking to people as he went, asking them how they were going. Just as he reached Taylor on the edge of the last shade his mobile rang.

“Yes, Felicity.” He listened. “No, that will be fine. Ed or I will deal with it later.” He listened again. “Yes, Ed's desk.” He tucked his phone back in his pocket and smiled at Taylor. “How are you finding the grape-picking experience?”

“Good. It's another aspect of winemaking I'm seeing first-hand. I've managed to take a few pictures in between picking.”

A car went along the road, slowed then moved on. Pete turned to watch it.

“Are you worried about Ed coming back?”

“I'm not good at subterfuge.”

“What about Felicity? She would be able to see us if she came around this side of the winery.”