Between the Vines (31 page)

Edward put a hand to his chest. It was as if Peter had punched him, knocked the wind out of him, but he'd not lifted a finger. Blood pounded in his ears. Edward turned and slammed out the door.

“Where are you going?”

He ignored Peter's call and set off along the track in the direction of his house, his mum and dad's house. Neil's Triumph. The name rang in his ears. Pain radiated through his chest. All the memories he'd tried so hard to keep locked away came flooding back.
Neil's Triumph
sounded over and over in his head.

He walked through his house, switching on lights as he went. In his office he rummaged in the top drawer until his hand found the bunch of keys he was looking for. He took a torch from the laundry and made his way to the single-vehicle shed in the yard behind the house.

He fumbled with the keys, looking for the one that fitted the padlock on the side door. The metal door screeched in protest as he pushed it open. He flashed his torch over the canvas-covered shape that filled most of the shed then found the light switch. He turned it on. The fluoro flicked several times and lit the space.

He stood at the front of the shape. Layers of dust had turned the pale cover to a dirty brown. He gripped the ends and carefully peeled back the cover. Dust filled the air and he made a series of short sharp sneezes. With the canvas on the floor he turned to take in the car, Neil's Triumph. Its red duco glinted in the light from the fluoro despite its long incarceration.

Edward walked around to the driver's side. The last time he'd been in the car was the week before his parents had died. He put a hand on the door and leaned in. Everything looked just the same in spite of
its years of inactivity. He opened the door and folded himself down behind the wheel. His father had let him drive that day. A rare occurrence. Edward remembered it as if it was yesterday. It had been the end of vintage. They'd driven to the coast, stopped at a pub for lunch then continued on, talking about their plans for the future of Wriggly Creek, laughing at stupid jokes and enjoying the sheer pleasure of each other's company and the fresh air. Edward had wound the old car up and she'd hummed along while he and his dad had enjoyed the feel of the old leather below them and the wind in their faces.

When they'd finally arrived home, chilled to the bone, their mother had a roast on the table. The cellar door had been busy and the takings the best they'd ever had. Peter had opened a bottle of their parents' first red. It hadn't aged all that well but they'd drunk it anyway, making up silly descriptions for it. A week later his parents were dead.

Edward gripped the steering wheel. To his horror his nose began to run and liquid leaked from his eyes. He rubbed at his face with the back of his hand but the tears wouldn't stop. He gave in and slumped forward against the steering wheel, six years of bottled-up grief overflowing in a moment.

Pete stood in the passage long after Ed had left. His all-consuming anger had frightened him. He'd wanted to lash out at Ed and strike him. Thankfully he'd kept his arms pinned to his sides. Now that the rage had dissipated he felt flat and restless. Now what? Obviously Pete had underestimated what Ed was capable of. Howard had been right to suggest they pick when they did. Pete still couldn't get his head around the idea that Ed was about to do it for someone else. No wonder he'd booked the machines.

Pete punched his fist into the palm of his hand. He walked from room to room but couldn't settle. He went outside. The light still shone from the quarters' big window. He really should go back and apologise to Taylor for spoiling the evening but the argument with Ed had only reminded him of an earlier one, when Ed had made it
quite clear that Taylor had been his girlfriend first. Tonight Pete had been so happy in her company. She'd been happy too, and Antoine. Pete couldn't read anything more into her manner than friendship after a day of sharing the work.

Instead of going to the quarters he wheeled left and headed towards the winery. When he was level with the first row of tanks, a car pulled in on the other side of the locked wire gates, the beam of its headlights illuminating the yard. The vehicle was right up close to the gates. Pete put his arm up to shield his eyes and moved towards it. He wasn't expecting visitors and friends always came in the back way past Ed's house. The car engine revved then backed out and, with a scrunch of its tyres, sped back the way it had come. Probably some tourist that had lost their way but they were sure in a hurry.

Pete continued on to the shed where the freshly picked cabernet filled the old cement fermenters his father had built. He'd lied to Ed. He'd said the NS18 was in the new stainless steel tanks. He'd never got around to changing the board. Antoine knew but he wasn't going to say anything. Ed had obviously never meant for the NS18 to reach their own tanks anyway. Tomorrow the harvesting machines Ed had booked could start on the old cabernet block that made their reserve cab sauv. By tomorrow night the new tanks would be full of cabernet grapes, just not the NS18.

Pete flicked on the light. The tanks were full of the cabernet juice with the skins floating on top. He plunged in his hand, pulling up a fistful of the deep-red mixture then letting it trickle away between his fingers. Most of the vines on Wriggly Creek had been planted when he was too young to remember. These grapes had come from vines that they'd all had a hand in planting and nurturing, even Ed. Pete felt a knife-like stab in his chest. It was hard to imagine his brother could sell these grapes when he knew how important they were to the family.

What would their parents think of them? Two brothers who had developed into opposites. Ed seemed hell-bent on changing so
much. It hurt Pete to think his brother had so little belief in his ability as a winemaker but the real pain came from the idea that Ed was destroying any semblance of Wriggly Creek as a family-owned winery.

Pete put his arm against the tank and rested his head on it. How could they move forward from here?

Taylor knocked gently at Pete's back door. The lights were on inside and the door ajar but she couldn't hear anything.

“Pete?”

No-one replied to her cautious call.

She looked around. In the distance she could see the lights blazing from Ed's house. Had they gone over there? She walked back out of Pete's yard and stood on the track that went one way to the quarters and the other back to the winery. She didn't know what to do. Ed and Pete had both been so angry. Antoine had gone to bed. He knew it was best to keep out of any dispute between brothers but Taylor couldn't just flick a switch and turn off her concern for Pete and Ed. She was worried and yet it wasn't her place to interfere. When it all boiled down she was really nothing but a hired worker.

A car moved slowly along the road then turned using the winery driveway. It pulled right up to the gate and paused there, the engine idling. For a moment she glimpsed a figure caught in the headlights and then the car reversed suddenly, its engine loud in the still night as it roared away. Taylor peered into the blackness, her heart thumping. She hoped it was Pete she'd seen but what if it wasn't? She took a step closer and felt something brush her face. She batted at it with her hand. It was a spider web. She brushed madly at her hair and dashed back to the quarters where she used the small bathroom mirror to try to check herself over. No sign of a spider. She shuddered.

In her bedroom she stripped off her clothes just in case and pulled on her pyjamas and a jacket. The air outside had chilled her.
She went back to the kitchen and boiled the kettle. She didn't feel like bed but neither was she going to stumble about in the dark. She'd have a cup of tea and hope that Pete might call in.

Two hours later, Taylor woke up on the couch. She looked around the empty room then remembered she'd settled on the couch to wait. She stretched her stiff limbs. Her cup of tea was cold on the little table beside her. She poured it down the sink and turned out the light. In her bed she tossed and turned for a long time before sleep finally claimed her.

Taylor was in the lab when she heard the door from the front office open and footsteps in the corridor. She put down her jug and listened. The steps went away towards Pete's office. Her heartbeat quickened. What would she say to him? She'd hardly slept the last two nights. Now she was tired and every nerve was on edge. Yesterday morning she'd woken early to the sounds of machinery outside. Two harvesting machines had been going up and down the rows closest to the quarters. She'd only caught glimpses of Pete and not seen Ed at all. Antoine had been the only one to turn up for the evening meal. She had no idea what today would bring or where she stood in the scheme of things.

The footsteps paused then grew louder as they came back in her direction. Taylor pulled a smile onto her face. Ed appeared in the doorway. His hair was uncombed, his eyes bleary and his chin covered in dark stubble. He didn't look as if he'd slept any better than she had.

“I was looking for Peter. Do you know where he is?” His words were mumbled, tumbling over each other.

There was little sign of the man she'd fallen head over heels for several weeks ago. Who was that guy anyway? She still wasn't sure she knew.

“I haven't seen him this morning.”

Ed's shoulders slumped. He half turned away.

“Can I make you a coffee?” Taylor had to do something. He looked so dejected.

His gaze met hers. “I can make my own coffee.” Not a statement, more a bewildered response. Not like the outgoing, determined Ed
she thought she knew.

“I know but I'm going to have one. I'm happy to make another.”

He went back into the passage and she followed him through to the lunchroom. He sat. It was like looking at a shadow of the old Ed. She got out cups and placed them carefully. The hiss of the kettle was loud. From time to time the phone rang and Felicity's voice could be heard answering it. Finally Taylor put a cup of coffee in front of him.

She was about to turn away when his hand reached out and took hers.

“Thanks,” he murmured.

“No problem.”

“I'm sorry I…”

The door from the winery opened and Pete walked in. He looked from Taylor to Ed to their hands. She drew hers back. Pete lifted his gaze to meet hers. His face was gaunt and like Ed he hadn't shaved, but where Ed had shrunk into sadness Pete had grown in anger. What an odd trio they made.

“I've been looking for you.” Ed was the first to speak.

“The machines didn't finish till late. Antoine, Ben and I have had a lot to do.”

“I know, that's why I didn't come and find you yesterday. We need to talk.”

“I don't think there's any more to say, do you?”

“You can just listen if you like. What's done is done.”

Taylor didn't like Ed's tone or his words. What had he done?

“Would you like a coffee, Pete?” she offered.

He barely glanced at her. “No thanks.”

Ed stood up. “Let's go into my office.” He moved off without checking to see if Pete would follow and leaving his coffee behind.

Taylor could see the hesitation on Pete's face as he looked from her to the door Ed had just disappeared through. His eyes narrowed and he went after Ed. The office door closed. Apart from Felicity out in the front office there was no sound. Then the rumble of a low
voice started beyond the closed door. She couldn't tell if it was Ed or Pete but she didn't want to be there.

Like Ed she left the coffee and went back to the lab. She finished her work with one ear listening for the door but no footsteps came. Finally she let herself into the winery and got on with the plunging, taking her frustrations out on the grapes.

Edward lifted his head at the knock on the door. For at least five minutes now he and Peter had sat in silence. The words were all out, there was nothing more to say.

The door opened and Felicity stuck her head around. “You are in here.” She stepped in a little further. “Oh, both of you, good. Noelene's been on the blower wondering who's going to come over and help at the cellar door. She's got a big group booked in. Are one of you going or do you want me to send Taylor?”

“I'll go.” Peter got to his feet. “Ben and Antoine have the cleaning up covered.”

Edward didn't argue. It was probably best they had some space again now and the last thing he felt like doing was making cheerful banter with strangers.

“What's going on?” Felicity looked from one to the other.

“Ask Ed,” Peter growled and pushed past her.

Felicity lifted her chin. “Someone got out of bed the wrong side this morning.”

Edward raised his gaze to his secretary. Her make-up was particularly thick today. He hated thick make-up.

“Can I make you a coffee or a tea?” Felicity's eyelashes fluttered up and down.

He sucked in a breath over his teeth. Why did women always want to make cups of tea? As if that would fix anything.

“No, thanks, I'm fine.”

“You don't look fine.” Felicity came to his desk. She wore a tight-fitting charcoal shirt dress with buttons that strained over her breasts. “Are you sure I can't help?”

“There is nothing you can do, Felicity.” He felt a shift inside him. Since his collapse in his dad's car two nights before, he'd felt numb. He'd been going through the paces of what he'd decided he had to do. Something about Felicity's manner, as if she had some special right to his attention, raised his anger. He felt a little better. The desperate sadness he'd succumbed to eased. “Leave me to get on with my work. There's been enough time wasted today.”

Felicity's eyes narrowed then she twisted her lips into a smile. “Of course. Let me know if you need anything. Shall I close the door?”

“Yes.” Edward softened his tone. None of this was Felicity's fault. “Thank you.”