She wasn’t much of a wine drinker, preferring cocktails and the odd glass of prosecco. There had been a few winery tours with friends at McLaren Vale near her home and once to the Adelaide Hills but she’d never thought much about what it took to produce the actual wine. Here she was, standing in the middle of a living, working vineyard with Euan, who was obviously passionate about his work.
“Do you sell it here?” Keely wondered if they had cellar-door sales in one of the several big sheds.
Euan frowned. “No, most of our wine is sold through our distributors. We don’t run a cellar door.”
Keely noted the finality in his last words. “Oh. I thought that’s how wineries sold their wine.”
He smiled at her. “It’s one way to make sales but we don’t need it. We have relied on our distributors and our wines have always sold well, both in Australia and overseas. We were dabbling with cellar-door sales a few years ago. You may have noticed the undercover area alongside the carport.”
That must have been the big enclosed space she’d seen when she’d walked gingerly around the perimeter of the house the day before. After deciding to stay on at Levallier Dell, she’d gone back to bed and dozed and read. Euan had gone off and she’d seen no sign of Flynn. In the late afternoon she’d needed to stretch her legs and clear her brain in readiness for her mother’s phone call. She’d peered under the large paved verandah along the side of the house but it was overgrown with plants and clogged with accumulated leaves, dirt and cobwebs. It didn’t look as if anyone had been in there for a long time.
“Lucy, my wife, was the keen one but after she died and Flynn went interstate to study, it wasn’t a priority.”
Keely wondered what had happened to Mrs Levallier.
“We do fine without all those tourists swarming over the place,” he muttered.
“It’s very peaceful here.” Keely sucked in another breath of the fresh morning air. All around her, young leaves reflected the light in brilliant greens fluttering above the subdued browns of their trunks.
“It is at the moment. I like this time of year. Lucy used to say the vines were holding their breath, preparing themselves for the birth of their grapes.” He smiled. “She was the creative one. You’ll see pieces of her work around the house.”
“The wall hanging in the bedroom?”
“Yes, ‘Margaret River Magic’ she called it. It won several awards and she had many offers from people wanting to buy it but she always said she’d made it for us.” His voice softened. “I’m glad we kept it.”
“It’s an amazing creation. She had a lot of talent.”
“Yes…” A distant buzzing sound took his attention.
Keely followed his gaze to someone sitting on a machine moving between the rows down near the river.
“Looks like Flynn has shattered our peace.”
“What is he doing?”
“Slashing the mid-rows. The weeds love the sunshine just like the vines.” He sighed. “No time for peaceful pauses when Flynn’s around. He’s always doing something.”
The group of birds she’d seen outside her window on the first morning rushed up the space between the vines beside them.
“What are they?” Keely asked.
“Guinea fowl. We have them to keep the garden weevils out of the vines but they spend most of their time in the house garden. Here they are actually among the vines and he’s probably scared them off for a week.”
Keely watched the last of the perfectly groomed birds bolt back towards the house.
“I’d better get back to it,” Euan said. “Will you be okay by yourself?”
“I’ll be fine, thanks for showing me around.” Although not ready to run a marathon, she was feeling much better. She wasn’t going to spend the day lying around. The trackpants were beginning to get grotty, there was the bag of things she’d brought from the hospital and she was running low on underwear. “Would it be okay to use your laundry? I need to do some washing.”
“Of course. You have the run of the place. Make yourself at home. I’ll be back later in the day.”
* * *
“Thanks for holding the fort, Hugh.” Euan shook the hand of his long-time friend. Like Euan’s, Hugh’s face had weathered since they’d first met. He’d joined Levallier Dell back in the days when Flynn was young and the expanding business had become too much for Euan and Lucy to manage alone. His knowledge of local conditions and his vine management skills had made him an invaluable part of Levallier Dell.
“The vines are never a problem, Euan.” Hugh’s deep voice rumbled slowly. “Winemaking’s not my thing though, you know that. Flynn had a few concerns about the cabernet franc while you were gone. You like things done a bit different to his way of thinking.”
Euan smiled ruefully. There weren’t many wineries that made a straight cabernet franc and Euan’s consistently ranked highly. He and Flynn did approach the winemaking from different ends of the spectrum sometimes. Especially when it came to the cab franc. In his own way, Hugh was reminding him that he’d been absent too long. “It’s all fine. Flynn worries too much. If I can’t take a break at this time in my life, what’s it all been for?”
“You’re right about taking a break. Some things are best enjoyed away from home.”
Euan tried to read the expression in Hugh’s eyes. He was an old-fashioned bloke, a loyal and true friend. Family, home and community were very important to Hugh. He had remained at Levallier Dell through Euan’s ‘rough patch’ after Lucy’s death. He’d said very little about Euan’s lifestyle choices but from time to time Euan had been given a few unsolicited words of country-style wisdom.
“I know I can leave the place in your safe hands,” Euan said. “That helps.”
“Not just mine. Flynn knows what he’s doing.” Hugh laid a large hand on Euan’s shoulder. “I hope you don’t mind but I need to take a few days off. Felicity’s wedding is getting closer and the wife wants a trip to Perth. Evidently there are things we can only organise from there in spite of mobile phones and the internet.”
“Of course, Hugh. You head off. I’m not going anywhere for a while.”
“Guess your visitor will keep you busy.” The word visitor had a deeper note to it, as if Hugh was underlining the word. “I’ll call in as soon as we’re back.”
“Things will be fine here. Give my love to the family.”
Euan watched as Hugh turned his dual cab around and drove away. A small cloud of dust hung in the air for a minute before it dispersed on the breeze. Hugh had been giving him a message in his own conservative way. It was just that Euan wasn’t sure what the message was.
* * *
Keely was tired but she didn’t want to sleep. Her body was recovering well from the operation but now she wasn’t doing enough to tire herself out during the day, making it difficult for sleep to consume her at night. The washing was out and drying in the perfect conditions, the bed was made and she had tidied the kitchen after sharing a light lunch with Euan. He’d gone off to work again, leaving her to occupy the long afternoon by herself.
Tempted by the sunshine warming the back verandah, she took her backpack and settled into a chair near a small table. The tangle of roses and bougainvillea protected her from the breeze but allowed her a partial view across the yard to the vines beyond. Nearby, the group of guinea fowl carefully pecked their way over the lawn. She could hear the occasional sound of a vehicle and movement at the distant sheds. From the activity she assumed there were others besides Euan and Flynn working at Levallier Dell.
A man passed close by along the outside perimeter of the house fence. He was tall and wore a khaki work shirt and a broad-brimmed hat. He stopped and glanced in her direction. The dark glasses he wore made it hard for her to tell if he was looking at her. Keely had been about to say hello but he made no acknowledgement that he had seen her and moved on.
She watched him head through the vines towards the sheds until he disappeared from her line of sight. Perhap
s he hadn’t noticed her under the verandah but she had the distinct feeling he had.
For a while she worked on her sketch of Euan, adding the hat he had worn that morning and more detail to the face, but eventually she put the pad away. The silent man from over the fence had left her feeling unsettled and, anyway, she preferred to have her subject in view or at least to work from a photo. Not that she could take one. It was frustrating not having her phone. Euan had said the day before that one of them would run her to Bunbury. It was only an hour away but nothing more had come of it.
Keen to keep busy, she got out her jewellery-making kit. She never went far without it and was always on the lookout for bits she could use in her creations. First she unwrapped the soft fabric from around the tools and spread it across the table, then she took out the wire and the container of beads she had gathered from various sources over the years. This was her release; the one thing that gave free rein to her creative talent and allowed her to forget everything but the thrill of piecing together semi-precious stones, beads and wire to create bracelets, necklaces and earrings.
Her current creation was a bracelet that she had begun before she left home. It needed something special to add a final dimension and she had hoped to have the chance to find something in Perth. She wanted to make jewellery with beads or stones or adornments collected on her travels. She held the bracelet up to the light then draped it across her arm.
Underneath the table she’d noticed a couple of empty wine bottles. She picked one up, brushed the dust off with a tissue and stood it in the middle of the table where she hooked the bracelet around it. The label on the bottle had faded but she could still read the words Levallier Dell Chardonnay.
She fiddled with the unfinished bracelet for a while. There was nothing more she could do to it for now and she didn’t want to start another piece until she had found a new source of beads. The sun glinted off the gems and gave a glimpse of a cobweb effect around the neck of the bottle.
Keely looked at the bottle with new interest. She twisted the bracelet and pressed it flat then lifted it off and put it aside. The cloth was soon covered in wire and beads as her new project took shape. She became so absorbed in it that she didn’t realise the afternoon was slipping away until she felt a chill in the air. The sun had moved over the house, leaving her tucked away in her verandah arbour.
She sat back, stretched carefully and smiled at the beads draped around the neck of the bottle. She was relaxed and feeling good. Perhaps Euan had been right, the river was a good place for healing.
A soft scuffling noise caught her attention. She looked up through the curtain of foliage expecting to see Euan, but instead it was Flynn stepping quietly along the verandah. He was peering cautiously in through the glass doors. She remained still. He was obviously trying to avoid someone. Perhaps his father or, she thought, shifting silently on her seat, more likely me. Perhaps he’d only taken to peeping through doors since she’d arrived.
She watched him step inside then turned to her beads and packed them away.
“Damn him.”
She snapped the lid shut on the beads. It really had been comfortable staying here but Flynn had ruined her sense of peace. Euan had been very kind but his son was a different personality altogether and he was obviously avoiding her. There was tension between the two men and she was sure she had been the catalyst to make Flynn move out. Since that first morning when he’d burst into the bedroom, he’d kept away from the house and she’d only seen him in the distance.
She stood up and stuffed her things back into her pack. Flynn would just have to see that this pussyfooting around, as her mother would say, was all ridiculous. Anyway, Keely wouldn’t be staying for much longer.
She stepped through the sliding door and staggered back as she bumped right into him. Her pack was knocked from her hands and some of the contents slid out onto the floor.
“Sorry.” He dropped his own bag to bend down to pick up her things. His other hand still held a couple of shirts on hangers draped over his shoulder.
Keely’s pad lay on the floor, open at the sketch of Euan. She bent quickly to push it back into her bag and gasped as the pain tugged in her stomach. They both raised their heads quickly and Keely’s ear connected with Flynn’s forehead. The bump caught him off balance and he toppled to the floor, squashing his bag and his shirts.
“Sorry.” This time Keely felt it was her turn to offer an apology. She watched as he stood up and picked up his things. She had expected to come in and find him making himself at home in the house, not preparing to leave it. Keely’s plan had been to chat with him, casually mentioning that she would be on her way by Monday. Now she blocked the path of his escape.
They both hesitated in the doorway.
“I didn’t realise you were here,” Flynn said.
Obviously, thought Keely.
“I’ve left Euan a note.” He nodded towards the phone. “I’ll be out most of the weekend. We’ve been invited to the River Dynasty restaurant tomorrow night and dinner at the McPhersons’ on Sunday night.”
Keely glanced up through a curtain of hair, which had fallen across her face. Flynn was a good bit taller than Euan but she could clearly see the physical resemblance. The ice-blue eyes and pointy nose, the hint of ginger in his fair hair, but there were no freckles like Euan’s. Flynn’s skin was smooth and more olive in complexion.
“I’m not sure I’ll be here…” she mumbled.
“The invitations were for Euan and me but I’m sure one extra won’t matter if you want to come.”
He brushed past her and Keely lowered her gaze again as she felt the heat rise up her neck. Euan had said Flynn usually had good manners but she’d not seen a sign of them in her two encounters with him.
“Goodbye,” he said and the door slid shut behind her.
She turned but he was already striding away and he didn’t look back.
CHAPTER 9
Flynn looked around the room and nodded as several faces acknowledged his arrival. He had hoped his father might have arrived before him but he wasn’t among the group of winemakers already seated. He might turn up. Euan often ran late for appointments but Flynn wasn’t holding his breath.
It had taken Euan longer than most to accept the change from cork to screw-cap technology and he still insisted on cork for his precious cabernet franc. The percentage of their wine lost to bad corks had increased in the last season and Flynn was keen to look at alternatives. He thought the idea of glass stoppers might enthuse his father. Hugh was definitely interested but, as always, their head man deferred to Euan and kept out of arguments between father and son. He always said his job was the vines and it was up to Euan and Flynn to come up with the finished product.
Today they were looking at some of the different styles of glass stoppers available as well as options for screw caps. The idea of a cap with Levallier Dell embossed in gold on it appealed to Flynn. They were also going to discuss some of the different varieties of wine other winemakers were experimenting with in Australia now and what might grow well in their region. He’d reminded his father about the presentation but he wasn’t really expecting him to come. Euan was locked in his ways and wasn’t ever in a hurry to change.
Flynn glanced again at the men and women gathered in the room. Some of them represented wineries that had formed a cooperative to produce bulk wines. It had been another major change for the area and had caused quite a stir at the time. The Margaret River region had always produced bottled wines and there were those, including Euan, who believed cask wines would spoil the region’s wine image. It hadn’t, and both bottled and bulk wine had survived. There were a few here from other long-established wineries and all of them had changed from cork.
Flynn and Euan had held several lively discussions about changing the cabernet franc to screw caps or glass stoppers before Euan had gone away. Flynn had brought it up again just the day before. He’d hoped Euan would be back from the east in time to meet the visitin
g promotion team. His father had shut off as usual, refusing to listen to Flynn’s research and getting angry when he’d suggested they both attend this presentation in town.
There was also the final decision to be made about what they were going to plant on the remaining free hectares at the Haystack Block. Flynn wanted to plant something new, Euan didn’t. There’d been no chance to discuss that since he’d returned home either.
Euan had been more concerned with the woman he’d brought to Levallier Dell, Keely someone. Flynn frowned. He didn’t know everything about Euan’s exploits, he was sure, but she’d been a surprise. Usually Euan kept his more intimate life out of the local area and, to Flynn’s knowledge, he’d never brought anyone to the house before, certainly not since Flynn had returned home to live. But it didn’t stop the gossip and that was what Flynn hated.
Euan had explained again that Keely was recuperating from an operation but Flynn wasn’t convinced that was all there was to it. They had looked fairly intimate sitting on the couch together when he’d returned to the house to apologise to Keely and make peace. His father’s arm had been around Keely with the same tenderness he had used to nurse Lucy in those final days.
Flynn clenched his fingers into tight fists. Keely looked to be about his age. The father of one of his uni mates had left home and taken up with a much younger woman. It had been bad enough for the family but the son hadn’t been able to deal with his stepmother being the same age as his sister. Flynn could understand how he felt. Perhaps Euan had really lost the plot this time.
“Hello, Flynn.” A loud voice and firm hand on his shoulder startled Flynn back to the present. He gritted his teeth as he recognised Theo’s voice. Flynn hadn’t responded to the invitation he’d received from the neighbours to their party that night. He’d planned to not turn up and just make an excuse the next time he saw Theo.
He turned and the smile he’d assumed changed to a look of genuine surprise as his eyes met the dark brown eyes of the smiling young woman standing beside Theo.
Something in the Wine Page 6
