Between the Vines (36 page)

Taylor hummed under her breath. She chuckled to herself when she realised she was singing the old hot cross buns nursery rhyme. She hadn't thought of it in years. Her mum had always sung it to them when they were kids. Taylor glanced at the laptop on the end of the kitchen table. She'd sent an email to her parents once since she'd been here and had received one, or actually a few back, now that she thought about it. How long since she'd sent hers? They hadn't Skyped since before Rosie's wedding. She hadn't even sent
them the photos she'd promised to take. And she'd made no contact with Gemma who'd sent pictures of a weekend trip to London.

A pang of guilt swept over her. She hadn't told her parents or Gemma anything about her time at Wriggly Creek. Now that she thought about it their last email had been full of questions. She'd been too busy to answer. She pulled out the chair and sat at the laptop trying to think up a summary of her last few weeks.

She'd just pressed send on her brief email when Antoine emerged, his normally flat hair sticking up all over his head and his eyes still bleary from sleep.

“Something smells very good out here,” he said.

“Breakfast. Do you have the day off or has Pete got you working?”

“I've got a couple of things to do this morning then he's given me today and tomorrow off. I'm going to Robe overnight. Tom and some friends have rented a place there.”

“Oh.” Taylor wondered what she would do. She enjoyed Antoine's company, especially now that Ed and Pete hardly called in.

There was a rap at the door and Ed came in, closely followed by Pete.

“Good, everyone's here.” Taylor pasted on a smile and cleared away the laptop. “The food is ready. Come and sit down.” She took the pies from the oven where she'd been keeping them warm.

Ed and Pete chose opposite ends of the table. Antoine and Taylor took the seats between them.

Taylor hoped this wouldn't be too awkward. “I thought we'd start with savoury.” She set out the individual egg and bacon pies with a flourish. “Yours is sans bacon, Antoine.”

“Thank you,” he said.

Ed and Pete murmured their appreciation. Taylor jumped up again. “I forgot the coffee.” She set about making them each a cup with her coffee machine. She'd have to order more pods soon. She felt a pang of melancholy wondering where she'd get the order sent.
The shine had gone from the day.

After she'd made Ed and Pete a coffee, Antoine patted her seat. “I'll make ours,” he said. “You eat before it gets cold.”

Taylor accepted his offer. She was hungry now and the blokes were all wolfing theirs down.

“Haven't had egg and bacon pie in ages,” Pete said.

“That was delicious, thanks,” Ed added. His plate was already empty.

“Hope you've got room for hot cross buns,” Taylor said. “Can you get them while you're up please, Antoine?”

“Of course.” He lifted out the plate she'd wrapped in alfoil to keep warm and placed it in the middle of the table.

“Everyone help themselves,” she said.

“I keep forgetting to buy some.” Pete selected a bun. “I think this is the first one I've had this year.”

“They're good,” Ed said through a mouthful. “I don't know why we don't eat them more often.”

“Then they wouldn't be as special.” Taylor grinned and began to sing. “‘Hot cross buns'.”

Pete joined in and then Ed.

Taylor stopped after ‘two a penny, hot cross buns' but the brothers kept going. Their voices blended in unison. “‘If you have no daughters give them to your sons. One a penny, two a penny, hot cross buns'.” They ended with a chuckle.

“What's that?” Taylor asked. “Do you have your own version?”

“No,” they chorused.

“I've never heard that verse before.”

“Mum always sang it to us,” Pete said.

“It's a long time since you two were little boys.” Antoine brought Taylor a coffee. “You've probably mixed up your nursery rhymes.”

“She did it every year, right up until…”

“Mum always went to church on Good Friday.” Pete filled the gap as Ed's voice trailed away.

“And Easter Sunday,” Ed said.

Pete leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped over his stomach. “This is like old times. Good Friday was often a relaxed day for us. A bit of a breather in the busyness of vintage.”

“It was Easter when Dad bought the Triumph.” Ed's deep-blue eyes sparkled.

“That's right. Mum came home from Sunday church and he had it tied up with a big bow.”

“And loaded with Easter eggs.”

“He drove Mum to the creek and we rode our bikes down. We'd had a downpour a few days before and there was a bit of water in the creek.”

“That was the year you went to uni.” Ed wiped the corners of his mouth with his fingers.

They lapsed into silence.

“Do you still have the Triumph?” Taylor asked.

“Yes.” Ed stood abruptly. “I should get going.”

Taylor wished she hadn't asked.

Pete sat forward. “What's the rush?”

“Things to do.”

“Would you like to eat together tonight?” Taylor was keen to keep the fledgling peace going between them. “I could cook a roast?”

“Let's have pizza. I'll bring the ingredients.”

She was surprised by Ed's offer.

“I've got a few olives and a bag of cheese,” Pete said.

“I've got some chicken and bacon left over,” Taylor added.

“There you go. Surely we can make something edible between us.” Ed beamed them one of his charming smiles. “Six o'clock?”

“Sure.” Taylor grinned.

“Suits me.” Pete picked up his cap from the floor by his chair.

“We should open a bottle of the new reserve cab sauv that arrived yesterday.”

“Good idea.” Pete grinned at Taylor. “We might get you to put a price on this one.”

“Yes,” Ed said. “Taylor seems to be the go-to person for wine pricing.”

She studied his face, not sure if he was joking or having a dig.

“I'm off,” he said.

“I'd better head too.” Pete moved around the couch.

Ed was already out the door and Antoine starting on the dishes.

Pete turned back. He clutched his cap in purple-stained fingers. “I should have the rest of the information for the business plan ready by tonight. I'll bring it with me.”

“That'd be great.”

“Has Ed given you his?”

“Not yet.”

Pete pushed his cap onto his head. When he reached the door he looked back. “Ed cares more than he shows. I'm sure he'll get it to you soon.”

“Whenever you can, you're all busy.” The longer it took the longer she had an excuse to stay.

Pete's eyes shone. “See you later.” He lifted a finger in a small wave.

The sadness Taylor had felt earlier was gone. She started humming the hot cross buns tune again as she picked up a tea towel. Things were on the improve. Ed and Pete were getting on better. Perhaps she could help them to resolve their differences after all. And not only that, now she had something to look forward to this evening rather than a night alone in the empty quarters.

Edward flung the cover from the Triumph and walked all around it. One tyre was flat and when he'd turned the ignition the other night, he'd got no response. He assumed it was only the battery. The car hadn't been driven for six years.

He hadn't told Peter he'd been to check out the old car. It had been too painful and he didn't want to make it more so. Besides he'd been so angry with his brother over their differing opinions on the future of the winery he hadn't wanted to share the old car. He wasn't even sure Peter would have been interested. Now their reminiscing over breakfast had sparked something inside him. They rarely talked about their parents anymore and perhaps they should be. Neil's Triumph might just be the step forward he and Peter needed.

He covered the car again and went back to his house. He wandered from room to room. His parents' bedroom was the biggest with an en suite and the best view over the vines but he'd never moved in there. He did a full circuit of the rest of the house. What was he looking for? He didn't know. He'd given up the NS18 sale but there was still the Chinese offer. What if Peter didn't come round to his way of thinking? Noelene had been right when she'd said he was trying to coerce Peter into doing things his way. If Peter didn't agree to buying the Wrattonbully property was Edward really prepared to dig in his heels and give this place up? The only home he'd ever known. Give up his share of Wriggly Creek?

He ended up in the small room off the kitchen he used as a home office. He should at least answer some of the questions Taylor had listed. He had to look like he was trying. Noelene had seen through
him and he didn't know if she'd tell Peter. He found the papers and picked up a pen. He read the first question then chucked the pen down again. There was something else he should try first, something that would keep Peter onside. Edward plucked his phone from his pocket and dug in the desk drawer for his father's old Teledex. He knew he'd find the number he was looking for there.

Pete had a spring in his step. In spite of creating a busy day for himself by giving Antoine some time off, he was happy. He knew the cause of that happiness was Taylor. He walked past the storage tanks, on past the new fermenting tanks and around the back of the winery to the old shed that housed the cement fermenters. He glanced around. He felt stupid with all this subterfuge but he still wasn't sure how Edward was thinking even though he'd been more relaxed over breakfast.

He latched the door behind him and waited for his eyes to adjust to the gloomy interior of the shed, then picked up the plunger and made his way to the steps he'd put at the side of the first tank. Antoine had done two plunging shifts before he left. Pete would have to do the rest.

He climbed up and stepped onto the board. The rich red of the cab sauv grapes crusting the liquid below was a joy each time he looked at it. Fixing up the old tanks and now constant hand-plunging was hard work but it would be worth it. He had a memory of the day he'd taught Taylor to plunge. He wished she could be with him now. He knew she'd be interested, like she was in all aspects of wine production.

He was sure he could trust her now but the timing hadn't been right. Maybe tomorrow he'd bring her in and show her. She'd managed the plunging in the new fermenting tanks so she shouldn't have any trouble with these. He pulled the plunger up and forced it down again through the swirling liquid. Taylor brought a smile to his lips and a tune to his head.
Hot cross buns.
He sang it in time to the
up and down movement of the plunger.

The wind picked up a little more as Taylor returned from her walk. She hurried along the track which ran between the building that housed the offices and lab on one side and the shed with the rows of tanks on the other. When no-one else was around the place felt strange. Something banged to her left. She stopped. The breeze tumbled a plastic drink bottle across the track in front of her. She started forward then she heard the bang again. It sounded like a piece of iron flapping but the wind wasn't that strong. She walked to the end of the row of tanks and round the other side. There was an old shed there and the door was slightly ajar. As she watched the wind shifted it and it banged. That was the sound she'd heard. She had no idea where Pete or Ed were but perhaps she should shut the door while she was here.

A sound pulled her up short. She listened then broke into a smile. Someone was singing ‘Hot cross buns'. Taylor pulled the door open. “Pete?”

The singing stopped.

Taylor peered into the gloom. There was a movement. She hesitated. “Pete, are you in here?”

“Taylor?”

“I heard the door banging.” She stepped right inside. Her eyes adjusted to the light which filtered through skylights in the tin roof. She looked up. Pete was standing on something, a pole in his hand, he was red-faced and he looked worried. “Is everything all right?”

“Can you shut the door properly please? I mustn't have hooked the latch. I was going to get down and do it.”

He sounded nervous. She did as he asked and turned back.

“What are you doing?”

“Plunging.”

“In here?” Taylor looked around the old shed. It was mostly taken up with the large cement block shape Pete was standing over. She moved closer and looked over the cement wall which was as high
as her chest. Her eyes opened wide. The cement was a crude tank and it was full of red grapes.

“Is this…?”

“The NS18.”

She looked up at Pete, his face full of concern.

“Your best grapes in here?” She cast a hand in the air. The shed appeared derelict from the outside and these old grey cement slabs looked awful in comparison to the shiny stainless steel fermenters she was used to in the winery shed.

“This is the best place for them.” Pete continued to plunge, his voice coming in short bursts as he moved the handle up and down. “Much better in the cement than the stainless steel.”

Taylor watched as he did the last few plunges. His jeans, although not snug, defined the movement of his muscles as did the stretch of his shirt across his shoulders. Her heart beat quicker. She looked away then down at the rich red liquid and turned her mind to that. There'd been no talk of using this old fermenter that she recalled. Still, she wasn't up on all they did – but it was funny that Pete hadn't asked her to help. She looked up at his troubled expression as he made his way back along the plank towards her. Unless he didn't want her to know.

“Have you been keeping this a secret?”

He climbed down from the tank and stood right in front of her. His clear blue eyes studied her closely.