by Fay Keenan
‘Thanks.’ Alex looked surprised by her offer. ‘I might take you up on that.’
Sophie blushed. Despite being initially unsettled by the intensity of Alex’s gaze when she first met him, she was getting used to his quirks and ways, and just how far to joke with him. If she’d suggested that to one or two of her other male colleagues, they might have construed it as a come-on. Alex just seemed to take it at face value.
‘So, what’s the schedule for today?’ Alex asked as Sophie consulted her iPad.
‘The usual checks, first of all,’ Sophie replied. ‘And then I thought I’d give you a little treat.’ She grinned. ‘And see how much you’ve taken in about what you’ve been learning so far!’
‘I’ll be sure to try to impress you.’ Alex smiled and looked intrigued. ‘So long as you’re not going to make me eat a whole Dabinett – one mouthful was enough on my first afternoon!’
Sophie laughed. Dabinetts were excellent apples for adding acidity to cider, since they were full of tannin, but they were horrible to eat, tasting dry and bitter, despite their luscious red appearance. Although this year’s crop wasn’t ready, there were still a few of last year’s kicking around in cold storage, and she’d used one to demonstrate a point to Alex yesterday, a kind of variation on a joke that had been pulled on her by David during the early days of her own apprenticeship years ago. She’d not realised he was winding her up until she’d gamely tried to eat the whole apple, such was David’s deadpan expression. These days, having worked with him for so long, she knew how to read him better.
As good as her word, after an intentionally unadventurous lunch at the staff canteen, so as not to ruin her taste buds, Sophie took Alex along to the vat barn to take part in the weekly tasting of the Vintage blends. A tradition since the business had begun, the blenders would take their glass jugs and sample the cider from each of the vats to see how the bespoke varieties were doing. Sophie had been assisting David with this task ever since her apprenticeship days, and it was still a highlight of her working week.
This particular afternoon, David was in a meeting, so she and Alex were heading into the barn by themselves. Usually, one of the Carter brothers would attend the tasting, although for a couple of weeks running now neither of them had. It was a busy time of year, and Sophie had got the testing and tasting down to a fine art.
‘Watch your step as you go up to the gantry,’ she warned Alex as they walked between the barrels to the foot of the steel staircase. ‘It can catch you out if you’re not careful and you might come a cropper.’
‘Come a cropper?’ Alex looked quizzical.
Sophie grinned. ‘Fall on your backside.’
Alex laughed. ‘Thanks for the warning.’
‘David was off work for three weeks when he missed his footing and bruised his coccyx – although he wouldn’t stop emailing me, day in, day out, making sure I was doing everything to his specifications.’
‘Sounds like he’s a bit of a workaholic,’ Alex observed wryly. He’d had a bit of contact with David over the week he’d been at Carter’s, although David had mostly left his internship to Sophie’s tutelage, and he had no doubt that the man took his responsibilities very seriously, from the way he hardly ever cracked a smile. Sophie had warned Alex that David was notoriously straight faced, but it still took a little bit of getting used to.
Heeding Sophie’s advice, Alex held onto the gantry rail as he climbed the steps, his boots clanging on the steel as he rose. From the top of the platform, he could appreciate for the first time the scale of the vats in the barn. Standing solid and impassive, they filled the space, the silence in the air at the top of the barn unnerving in its absoluteness. This was a different perspective from his first time in the vat barn; seeing all seventeen vats at once, from the top of the building, was a little overwhelming. He drew in a deep breath as he looked out over the barrels; he could almost smell the history in the atmosphere. Bracing himself against the sudden onslaught of thoughts unbidden, emotions unchecked, he closed his eyes briefly.
‘Are you all right?’ Sophie asked as she climbed the steps to join him.
Alex’s eyes snapped open as he tried to regain his equilibrium. ‘Sure.’ He laughed nervously. ‘Just got a little dizzy.’
‘Afraid of heights?’ Sophie teased. ‘Don’t ever try climbing Jacob’s Ladder at Cheddar Gorge!’ Despite the levity, her eyes were kind. ‘Shall we?’ She walked across the gantry to the top of the first of the oak vats they needed to check. ‘It’s OK,’ she said. ‘You can walk on the tops of them. It’s the only way to get to them all!’
Alex smiled as he watched Sophie lean over to unlock the hatch that was set into the top of the nearest oak vat. He had to stop himself staring as her grey T-shirt rode up, revealing a tantalising sliver of pale skin between it and her long, denim clad legs. Don’t go there, he thought.
‘Ready?’ she asked, turning briefly back to Alex. ‘Let’s see how much you’ve taken on board about what I’ve been telling you about flavour this week.’
‘My first test?’ Alex asked lightly, relieved to have something to take his mind off the maelstrom of emotions evoked by being in this place, charged as it was with history and heritage. Not to mention the glimpse of Sophie’s bare skin; he was only human, after all, he conceded.
Sophie grinned. ‘Don’t worry too much about the specifics. Just tell me what you think.’ She dipped the jug into the vat, almost up to her elbow to get past the surface oxidisation, and then poured the contents into two tumblers. Deliberately not taking a sip first, she handed one to Alex and then waited for him to taste.
Alex paused, and then raised the glass to look at the colour. It was a deep, luscious gold, and the fermentation had left lazy bubbles rising to the surface in his glass. As he brought it closer to his mouth he first drew a deep breath to catch the scent. It had a deep, oak soaked aroma, which had been given to it from the barrels themselves, and just the finest whiff of cognac from the wood of the vat. It smelt of warm days, orchards and the county of Somerset. Inhaling again, he put the glass to his lips and allowed the liquid to fizz over his tongue, keeping his mouth slightly open to allow the cider to breathe.
‘Wow,’ he said. ‘That’s seriously good.’
Sophie looked at him shrewdly. ‘And what else?’
Alex felt his stomach clench as her clear blue gaze held his intently. ‘It’s broad,’ he said. ‘And feels like it’s getting there.’ He took another sip. ‘Perhaps a bit longer? A bit more sweetness? Seems slightly acidic?’
Sophie nodded coolly. ‘Not bad,’ she said. She took a sip from her own glass, swirled it around in her mouth and then swallowed. ‘So how long would you say it needs?’
‘Week or so?’
‘Possibly.’ Sophie put her glass down and smiled. ‘I’d say the acidity is actually about right for the UK market – Brits tend to like their Vintage ciders with a little more bite, but it would be easy to adjust the sweetness for your home market if you felt a sweeter blend was needed. The Eloise variety would be a good bet for that – just tweak the blend to suit your customer.’
‘Noted,’ Alex said. He took another sip from the glass he was holding.
‘Steady on!’ Sophie laughed. ‘We’ve got another five vats to sample this afternoon, and if you drink the whole glass each time, you really will go arse over tit on the way back down.’
Alex didn’t need her to explain that particular turn of phrase – especially after an illicit mouthful of the Vintage – it seemed fairly self explanatory, and he didn’t want to go the same way as David on those steps if he could help it.
*
On her way home that evening, Sophie was mulling over the schedule for the next few weeks, which crops were due to harvest soon, and the kinds of blends she’d need to put into action, when she saw Alex crossing the road by the Co-op. Before she realised what she was doing, she’d raised a hand and waved at him, and then felt her face turning red at the gaucheness of that gesture. What an
idiot, to be waving with quite such enthusiasm!
However, Alex, much to her relief, waved back, and then increased his pace a little to get to where she was.
‘Hi,’ he said as he approached. ‘It’s a nice evening for a walk.’
‘It is,’ Sophie said. ‘Although I’m not going far. I said I’d pop in on my grandmother tonight.’
Alex fell into step beside Sophie as she walked in the direction of Lily Henderson’s house. ‘It’s neat that you live so close to her. Must make things easier,’ he observed. ‘My mom’s parents lived about twenty miles away from us, so we saw them quite a lot, but my stepdad’s mom and dad were a way upstate, so we only really saw them in the vacation.’ Then he stopped, a look of rather attractive uncertainty crossing his features. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’ve just presumed to join you, without even asking if that’s OK.’ He shook his head. ‘Where are my manners?’
‘It’s a free country, and an open road,’ Sophie replied, smiling. ‘Where are you off to, anyway?’
Alex looked sheepish. ‘I kind of have to get away from Brenda in the evenings. She and her husband like to sit in their garden, which is fine, but she can talk like no one I’ve ever met, so I’ve been getting out of there just for the peace and quiet. It’s amazing how far you can go on an English summer evening.’
Sophie snorted with laughter, wondering if Alex was aware of his rather sweet double entendre. ‘I did wonder how long you were going to stick it at the B & B when you told me you were staying there. Brenda’s pretty well known around these parts for only stopping talking when she’s asleep, and sometimes not even then, apparently!’ She furrowed her brow. ‘But then, you haven’t met my gran yet, have you? She’s another one who can talk for England!’
‘No, I don’t think so,’ Alex replied. ‘Although I did see a lady walking a Weimaraner a couple of nights ago – might that have been her? Wasn’t that the kind of dog you told me she had?’
‘Yes, that’s right,’ Sophie said. ‘Barney’s pretty distinctive, and the only Weimaraner in the village, as far as I know!’ She paused, then before she could think better of it, a wicked grin lit up her features. ‘Look, if you want to come and say hello, and hide from for Brenda a bit longer, I’m sure Gran wouldn’t mind you joining us.’ She omitted to say that Lily would probably find out more about Alex in five minutes than Brenda had in a week; Lily had a way of getting information out of people.
‘If you’re sure I won’t be intruding?’ Alex replied. ‘I don’t want to impose on you, or her.’
‘Oh, Gran’s used to having guests,’ Sophie said. ‘She’s always liked meeting new people.’ And she’ll love the look of you, she added silently, knowing that her grandmother still had an eye for a good looking man.
‘Well, if you’re sure,’ Alex said. ‘It would be nice to hide out somewhere until Brenda talks herself to sleep!’
‘I could hardly leave you wandering the streets of Little Somerby, could I?’ She gestured. ‘Besides, Gran’s house is only here, and she’s got a very big garden to hide in!’
With that, Sophie snapped open the garden gate that topped the paved path to Lily Henderson’s front door.
5
Lily’s front door was on the latch, in expectation of her granddaughter’s visit, and as Sophie pushed open the door she and Alex were met by a frenzy of alternate squeaks and barks as Barney the Weimaraner skittered excitedly between the two of them. Huge, grey and with the energy of a sugar infused toddler, he was ecstatic to see Sophie, and intrigued by her companion.
‘Oh, calm down, you big softy!’ Sophie smiled, looking semi-apologetically towards Alex as Barney thrust a wet nose into the palm of his hand. ‘I’m sorry – he’s like this with visitors.’
‘It’s fine,’ Alex said, leaning down to scratch behind Barney’s ears. ‘He’s beautiful.’
‘He loves people who love him,’ Sophie observed as Barney immediately started to calm down under Alex’s touch.
‘I miss having a dog.’ Alex glanced back up at Sophie and smiled. ‘I had a Doberman as a kid, but I haven’t had a dog since I’ve been living in the city. Perhaps now I’m moving back out to the country, I’ll be able to have another one.’
Barney, like a big, furry, friendly host, led Alex and Sophie through the hallway and kitchen and out into the long, beautifully kept garden at the back of the house.
As she led Alex through the walled garden, Sophie spotted her grandmother. Lily was standing by one of the extensively populated English rose beds, secateurs in hand, snipping a few blooms for the cut crystal vase that always adorned her dining room table. Wearing a large floppy straw hat to protect her silvery white hair against the still strong summer sunshine and a long linen shirt with matching cream trousers, she looked the picture of elegance as she put the roses down on her garden table and extended a pale hand tipped with discreetly painted pink fingernails, to the man who stood beside her granddaughter.
‘Gran, this is Alex,’ Sophie said as she, Alex and Barney approached.
‘Nice to meet you, Alex,’ Lily said, regarding him contemplatively. ‘Sophie’s told me a lot about you. Are you an Alex, or an Alexander?’
Alex smiled. ‘Technically, I’m Alexander, but mostly only when I’m in trouble. It’s nice to meet you too, ma’am,’ Alex replied, shaking Lily’s hand. ‘And she hasn’t told you too much, I hope!’
‘Enough to make me curious to meet you,’ Lily said, returning his smile broadly. ‘And much as I appreciate your wonderful and traditional mode of address, please feel free to call me Lily.’
‘Can I get you a drink, Alex?’ Sophie asked hurriedly. Her grandmother was an incorrigible flirt, even now. ‘And would you like one, Gran?’
‘I’ll sort out something cold and wet,’ Lily said, picking up her roses again. ‘I need to get these into some water. Make yourselves comfortable.’ She pointed to the swing seat at the far end of the garden, which had another wooden chair and a small table in front of it. ‘We’ll have a drink down there, shall we?’
Sophie only just restrained herself from rolling her eyes as Lily gave her a knowing glance. Her grandmother had been trying to set her up with anything male and remotely eligible since she’d broken up with Mark, but Alex, while definitely male and certainly eligible, needed to remain strictly in the business not pleasure category.
‘Shall we?’ Alex broke into her thoughts.
He smiled down at her, and Sophie’s stomach fluttered a little. You really shouldn’t smile like that, she thought unguardedly.
‘I can see that your grandmother isn’t a woman to be argued with.’
‘You don’t know the half of it,’ Sophie said, smiling back at Alex. ‘The rows she used to have with Jack Carter when he was alive about the wasps from his orchard flying over the fence and going for her roses in the summer… and she was friends with him!’
‘Really?’ Alex said. ‘They knew each other a long time, then?’
‘Ever since they were kids.’
‘What was he like when he was younger?’ Alex asked as they walked towards the bottom of the garden.
‘Oh, a bit wild, apparently,’ Sophie said. ‘He’d dallied with virtually every girl in the village by the time he was twenty-one, then he met Cecily and married her almost overnight. Gran, who will only admit to having kissed him once, was one of the few women who didn’t have her heart broken by Jack, or so she claims. But village gossip tends to blow things out of proportion. Especially back in those days when there were fewer distractions.’
Alex looked thoughtful. ‘He sounds like an… interesting character.’
‘Oh, you know what it’s like in villages – everyone knows what everyone else is doing, all the time. That’s why so many people get the hell out while they can! Jack and Gran belonged to a generation who stayed put, and as a result she knows most of what there is to know about everyone round here.’
‘I’ll keep that in mind!’ Alex regarded Sophie thoughtfully. ‘Yo
u didn’t leave, though.’ They reached the swing seat. Alex had to bend a long way down to sit in it, and it creaked as it took his weight. Sophie couldn’t help noticing the length of his legs as he tucked them under the shallow seat of the swing, and the faint stitch line of a scar across his left knee as his shorts rode up slightly. She tore her gaze away hurriedly.
‘No, I didn’t,’ she conceded, sitting down beside him. Lily would want the sturdier comfort of the garden chair, she knew, despite the fact that the swing seat was barely big enough for two adults, especially two as tall as her and Alex. She felt her knee brush Alex’s as she shifted in the seat, and pulled it away hurriedly. They’d talked a lot over the past few days, but were still acquaintances really, and personal space still felt at a premium, for her at least. Perhaps it was to do with the slightly odd formality of Alex’s manners; she still couldn’t quite get used to his sense of reserve; the way he gave her space, held doors open for her and didn’t try to wind her up at every available opportunity the way her male colleagues always tended to do. The lack of banter was refreshing, but a little alien to her.
‘Why not?’ Alex asked, seemingly oblivious to Sophie’s hurried break of contact. ‘What made you stay here?’
‘Matthew Carter offered me a job after my A Levels,’ Sophie said. ‘And the apprenticeship was great. I never wanted to go to university like my friends, and it meant I could start earning money straight away, which definitely helped out my mum. She and I shared a place until a couple of years ago when she met her partner, Steve, and they decided to move to the South of France.’
‘Do you see her often?’ Alex asked.
‘I pop over from time to time for a holiday, but I like to be around to keep an eye on Gran,’ Sophie replied. Her mother had only agreed to move to France on the condition that Sophie would stay in the house in the meantime to make sure Lily, her former mother-in-law, was all right. Of course, now that the Martingtons job had come up, it was another complication that Sophie would need to consider, but that was for another day.
