Angel's Share

by Kayte Nunn

  That day the girls went over to the winery, where Dan had agreed to give them a tour of the place, and then a tasting of the wines that were going to be on offer at the cellar door. ‘Over there you’ve got the tanks,’ he said, pointing to the hulking stainless-steel cylinders that towered over everything else in the winery. That’s where we keep the younger whites – your pinot gris and your riesling.’

  Mattie and Cara nodded.

  ‘And then here’ – he indicated the rows of oak barrels, stacked sideways on racks on top of each other, each with chalk scrawls on the base – ‘these are the reds. Your cab sav, shiraz and pinot, as well as some chardonnay. We use a mix of old and new oak, and then Mark and I make up the final blends before bottling. This is where you might have heard the term “the angels’ share”.’

  ‘The angels’ share?’ asked Cara.

  ‘It’s what we fondly call the small amount of wine from each barrel that gets lost to evaporation – it means that what’s left is all the sweeter so we gladly give up a fraction to the heavens.’

  ‘Cute,’ said Cara.

  ‘When I was a kid, I thought that angels really did fly down and siphon off some of the wine,’ laughed Mattie. ‘I kept asking my dad when they were going to come so I could stay up and try to see them.’

  ‘Now, come along to the office and I’ll run you through the wines. There are some tasting notes for you to study, but you’ll find that most people want only a little bit of info about the wine as they taste. You’ll soon learn to spot those who want to know more, but the key is not to overwhelm them to begin with – it’s a social thing, mostly, and usually people are with their friends, or their partners. Of course you do get the odd show-off, the ones who think they know it all and try to catch you out. Mostly blokes, by the way.’ He took a closer look at Cara. ‘But I’m sure you can more than handle them.’

  They reached the office, where two rows of small tasting glasses were lined up, with a spittoon at one end. Dan poured the first bottle. ‘Right, ladies, let’s begin.’

  ‘Could there be any more dust?’ Cara complained later as they steamed and polished every single one of the cellar door’s hundred-odd tasting glasses, most of which were cloudy from lack of use.

  ‘I reckon the spiders were worse,’ Mattie shuddered. She’d discovered a nest of hundreds of the tiny wriggling black things behind the tasting bench. It was enough to give her the heebie-jeebies for a week. She and Cara had called for backup, and Dan had been persuaded to come in with the Mortein. It was several hours before they ventured back to the cellar door, and only after his assurances that all traces of the offending eight-legged creatures had been removed.

  ‘Do you think Mark might spring for some new furniture?’ said Cara as they looked at the dated wrought-iron chairs and dark wood tables, some of which had most definitely seen better days. ‘Perhaps something a bit more contemporary? Bring the place into the twenty-first century?’

  ‘I’ll see if I can pin him down tonight. What do you reckon we ought to change?’

  Cara needed no further encouragement. With her stylist’s eye she quickly assessed the place, taking in the fusty curtains at the large windows that looked out over the valley, and the ochre-coloured walls. ‘At the very least give the place a coat of paint – soft grey with white trim, I reckon. And get rid of those curtains. It wouldn’t hurt to add some bench seating out on the front verandah either.’

  That evening Cara showed Mark some images she’d put together of how she thought the cellar door could look. Mark was surprisingly quick to agree to their suggestions. ‘I’d been meaning to do something about it for a while, but hadn’t had the time to get around to it – or the imagination. And I’ve got bigger things to worry about now.’ He sighed. ‘Okay, it’s all yours, girls – stick to the budget and you’ve got free rein.’

  Cara looked at her friend with excitement. ‘Nothing thrills me more than making things over, people or places.’

  ‘Don’t I know it,’ said Mattie with an easy grin.

  By the end of the week, the girls were covered in paint and completely exhausted, but the cellar door was sparkling. Light streamed in from the windows, bounced off the newly painted dove-grey walls, and Rob the chippy had been commissioned to construct two long tables and benches to go either side of the front door. Cara had sourced a bolt of charcoal linen and arranged for it to be made up into cushions for the benches, and found new lighting for inside the cellar door.

  ‘Golly, it looks so much larger and lighter in here,’ said Rose, admiring their work, ‘and I love these fittings. You’ve done a brilliant job. Wait until Mark sees it, he’ll be thrilled.’

  ‘It might help put him in a better mood too,’ added Mattie hopefully, thinking of Leo and Luisa’s impending departure and the mining worry hanging over all of them.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Rose had planned a dinner for the family, together with Cara, Astrid, Thommo and Max and Jake, who was due back from Adelaide that afternoon. It was the last night that Leo and Luisa were to be at Kalkari before leaving for Spain with Isabella. She was doing her best to create a festive mood, despite Leo’s obvious sadness. He’d been withdrawn all week, and had refused to pack a bag. Rose could see that he wasn’t coping and ended up sorting through his clothes and shoving a pile of shorts and tees into a suitcase that now sat outside the door to his bedroom. She’d found herself nearly in tears as she folded Luisa’s tiny dresses and cardigans, and had to sit down on the little girl’s bed and take several deep breaths to steady herself. She was sadder than even she had imagined she would be, now the day was nearly upon them.

  ‘Anything I can do to help?’ Mattie came into the kitchen to see Rose standing at the range, stirring a big cast-iron pot. ‘God, that smells delicious. What’s for dinner?’

  ‘Potage Saint-Germain,’ replied Rose. ‘Pea and lettuce soup. It’s based on something Philippe, my Bondi friend, used to cook at Rustica. I want to trial it at the restaurant, so I thought I’d give it a go here first. Mark brought me some yabbies that I thought I’d pop on top at the last minute.’

  ‘Smells freaking amazing, whatever it is,’ said Mattie.

  Rose laughed. ‘That’s probably the garlic. It’ll be followed by osso bucco and risotto. At least the kids will eat the risotto, if nothing else.’ She indicated the pan where grains of rice glistened with saffron and stock, which she was stirring with the other hand.

  ‘Want me to take over?’

  ‘Sure, that would be great. I’ll duck upstairs and change. Just add a bit more stock as the rice absorbs it.’

  Rose bumped into Mark in the hallway. ‘Hey. How are you doing?’

  Mark shrugged, his eyebrows drawn together in a frown. He’d looked this way for the past few weeks.

  ‘Oh, babe, I wish there was something I could say.’ She moved towards him, wrapping her arms around him and drawing him close. She loved the way they fitted together, as if they were two halves of a whole.

  ‘I know. It helps just having you here,’ he said, murmuring into her hair. After a moment, he reluctantly pulled away. ‘What can I do? I can’t stop her. She’s their mother, and I’ve got to give them the chance to see their other family. They need to get to know that side of their heritage.’

  ‘It still doesn’t make it any easier to see them go, especially for so long. I think you’re being very civilised about it though, and that’ll make it easier for the kids in the long run.’

  ‘They’ll be back for a holiday at Christmas. She’s promised me that.’

  ‘The time will fly by,’ Rose tried to reassure him.

  ‘Thought I’d bring along this hungry reprobate,’ said Thommo as he arrived. Charlie smiled apologetically at Rose. ‘Hope I haven’t put you out.’

  ‘Not when you turn up with wine, you don’t,’ said Mark, coming across to shake his hand.

  ‘Of course you’re welcome, Charlie,’ said Rose. ‘There’s always room for one more at Kalkari.’
r />   ‘I’ve been meaning to quiz you all about Bordeaux, in any case,’ said Mark. ‘Is Marie-Claire with you?’

  Charlie shook his head. ‘She, er… she wanted an early night.’

  Dinner, at the long mahogany dining table, was a noisy affair. Max was installed at a high chair at one end, with Astrid and Thommo, Luisa sat between Mattie and Cara, and Leo placed himself next to his dad at the head of the table. Jake and Charlie sat opposite the girls. The soup was a hit with everyone, even Max, who banged his spoon for seconds. Rose’s heart contracted. He was such a sweet little boy, the spitting image of his dad.

  Charlie looked across at Mattie. ‘So have you been spending much time with Shakira?’ he asked.

  ‘Uh-huh,’ she mumbled through a mouthful of soup. ‘Thanks again for letting me keep her at your place.’

  ‘Not a problem. She likes the company there, I reckon. When do you think you’ll be ready to ride her?’

  Rose saw Mattie freeze.

  ‘Come on, Mats,’ Charlie cajoled. ‘I’ll come with you, if you like. You know you’ve got to get back on her sooner or later.’

  ‘I’ll think about it,’ she said.

  ‘Dig in,’ said Rose, after the soup had been cleared away, as she hefted giant dishes of veal and risotto onto the table.

  Jake poured the wine he’d brought back with him from Adelaide. ‘Tell me what you think of this, boss. It’s a new mob up in the hills. Pretty smart stuff, I reckon.’

  ‘How’s your dad, Jake?’ asked Rose.

  ‘He’s not too crash hot. It’s his ticker. The old man needs to take it easy, but he won’t be told. My mum’s got her hands full trying to keep him in the house.’

  ‘Sorry to hear, but it must have been good to see him.’

  ‘Yeah, I don’t get back there very often. Makes me realise how much time is passing. They both look a little more fragile each time I see them.’

  ‘I know what you mean,’ said Mattie, thinking of her own parents.

  Cara, sitting opposite Jake, seemed to be completely tongue-tied.

  Rose caught Mattie’s eye. She wasn’t the only one who had noticed the unspoken attraction between the pair. Of course Rose knew of Jake’s reputation – and she remembered the wedding at Trevelyn’s with amusement – but figured that if anyone was up to the challenge, it would be Cara. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more obvious it was how well matched they were. That is, if they ever got over this sudden, completely out-of-character shyness around each other.

  ‘Can we take Barnsie out?’ asked Leo when dinner was nearly finished. Astrid had gone to put Max to bed upstairs, and Jake, Thommo, Charlie and Mark were deep in conversation. They seemed to be discussing a plan to get the valley specially zoned. Rose wasn’t sure what exactly; she’d only been listening with half an ear.

  ‘Sure,’ she said, knowing how much Leo was going to miss his almost constant companion. ‘Watch out for your sister and don’t be too long. It’s dark out there and it’s nearly bedtime.’

  Mark wasn’t the only one who was going to be heartbroken when the two kids left the house. Rose had been a stand-in mother to them on and off for nearly three years, and loved them both as if they were her own. Their imminent departure had crystallised the longing inside her for a child to a point where it was almost constantly on her mind now: when she was driving along the Eumeralla Road to Trevelyn’s, when she was kneading dough, stirring a sauce or weeding the veggie patch. She could imagine herself, a baby wrapped to her chest as she hung out the washing, or with a green-eyed toddler banging a wooden spoon on the floor as she cooked. But she knew that now wasn’t the time to raise the subject with Mark, even if they did manage to get away for some time alone together. Having a baby wasn’t an answer to his other children leaving, and she didn’t want him thinking she would ever imagine that would be the case. You couldn’t simply replace one child with another.

  She got up to start clearing the table. The wine, though delicious, had given her a headache and she thought longingly of her comfortable bed. She took one look at the men gathered at the head of the table, Thommo opening another bottle, and knew it was going to be a late night.

  ‘Tea, anyone?’ she said hopefully.

  ‘Sure,’ said Mattie. ‘But let me clear up. You look absolutely beat. You’ve really been doing too much, you know, running the restaurant as well as looking after all of us.’

  Rose smiled. ‘I guess I am a bit tired. I love it though. And I’m really going to miss those two little tackers.’

  ‘You’re not the only one. I feel like I’ve only just got to know them and now they’re going to be so far away.’

  After Rose had finished her tea, she called the kids in. They stopped to say goodnight to the guests before Mark took them upstairs.

  An hour or so and another bottle of wine later, Astrid and Thommo gathered up a sleeping Max and headed home with Charlie.

  ‘I’d better call it a day as well,’ said Jake, yawning. ‘It’s been a long one.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Cara. ‘I can hardly move after all the painting and cleaning this week.’

  ‘Sounds interesting,’ Jake said.

  ‘Go and take a look,’ said Mark. ‘They’ve transformed the place. Almost didn’t recognise it when I saw it this arvo.’

  ‘Care to give me tour?’ Jake asked Cara.

  She nodded.

  ‘Night, boss. See you Monday. Thanks again for dinner, Rose,’ he said as they left, heading over to the cellar door.

  Despite feeling that she would be asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, Rose followed Mattie over to the barn to collect a book she’d left there. She was dying to discuss Charlie turning up to dinner alone, and she seized the opportunity for a private chat. ‘Sooo,’ she said as they walked outside.

  ‘What?’ asked Mattie.

  ‘Marie-Claire …’ Rose was round-eyed with unspoken questions.

  ‘I know, but I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything. Everyone’s entitled to a night on their own every now and then, right?’

  ‘I suppose, but I reckon something’s happened.’

  ‘Nah,’ Mattie scoffed. ‘Not likely. They seemed pretty into each other the last time I saw them together.’

  ‘Don’t be too sure.’

  ‘Well, it’s got nothing to do with me, in any case,’ said Mattie.

  Rose raised an eyebrow. She didn’t believe it for a minute. She’d seen how Mattie looked at Charlie when she thought no one was looking. And how Charlie looked at her.

  ‘Can you credit it?’ Cara exclaimed, bursting in a few minutes later.

  Rose and Mattie looked up, astonished.

  ‘Nothing. Not a thing happened. Did I read the signals wrong? I thought he was definitely interested. I must be losing my touch.’ She sounded surprised and a little wounded. ‘He just blathered on about plants growing faster during a full moon because there is more moisture in the soil. Some biodynamic shit. I mean, really! The guy needs to work on his approach, don’t you think?’

  ‘Perhaps he’s simply taking his time?’ suggested Rose gently.

  ‘Taking his time? That doesn’t sound anything like the Jake I’ve heard about.’

  ‘Well, maybe he sees you a bit more seriously?’

  ‘You’re kidding, right?’

  ‘What’s wrong with that?’ said Rose. ‘You know you shouldn’t be so afraid to take him seriously either. It is possible to have more than a no-strings fling. Maybe that’s why he’s backing off.’

  ‘Oh, come on. I’m not buying that,’ said Mattie before Cara had a chance to reply. ‘Jake – and, for that matter, Johnny – are both the same. They charm their way into a girl’s heart and then you don’t see them for dust the minute things get a bit tricky. I’d include Charlie in that group too.’

  ‘Oh, Mattie,’ said Rose sadly. ‘They’re not all that bad.’

  ‘Johnny certainly was.’

  ‘Okay, perhaps he was a total arse – and believe me, I’ve
known a few of those in my time. I can’t even begin to tell you about the complete fuckwit who was my boyfriend before I met Mark. But don’t think that every bloke’s like that.’

  ‘Well, I’m not holding my breath for Mr Right to come along. I’m better off on my own, I know that.’

  ‘Yeah, but you’ve gotta have some fun, right?’ said Cara. ‘Life’s too short to be bitter, babe. Just go along for the ride.’

  ‘Humph,’ snorted Mattie. ‘That’s easy for you to say.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  The morning brought a flurry of activity to Kalkari. Rose, still tired despite a heavy sleep, was simultaneously clearing up the remains of dinner while making pancakes for the kids. She felt like a zombie; the last time she’d been this exhausted was when she was working double shifts in a London cafe and surviving on pies and doughnuts, lurching from one sugar crash to another. She couldn’t find a reason for it. It wasn’t as if she’d even had that much to drink last night – she hadn’t felt like a second glass, even though there were some gorgeous wines on the table. ‘Come down now, guys!’ she called up the stairs for the third time. ‘Leo! Luisa! Pancakes! It’s your favourite.’

  There was silence. Odd, she thought. Normally that would have brought them, Luisa at least, running to the kitchen. She looked at her watch. Eight o’clock. They definitely should have been up by now. With a sinking feeling, she turned the stove off, wiped her hands on a tea towel and made her way upstairs.

  She looked into Leo’s room and found it empty. Walking faster now, she went down the hallway to Luisa’s room. Also empty. Their pillows were missing, and a blanket from Luisa’s room. Her heart in her mouth, Rose flew down the stairs and went in search of Mark, who had just come in from a run. ‘I can’t find Leo or Luisa,’ she gasped. ‘They’ve gone!’