A Vintage Summer

by Cathy Bramley

  My eyes pricked with tears. ‘Life has a funny way of throwing curve balls in our faces, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ he said with meaning. A shadow crossed his face, which made me wonder.

  ‘Do you want children?’ I blurted out.

  He blinked. ‘Um. Yes, eventually. I … well, I’ve never said this out loud before, but I planned on focusing on my career until I was thirty-four and then marrying and starting a family from thirty-five.’

  ‘That’s very organized. How old are you?’

  ‘Thirty-six.’ He smiled ruefully and shrugged. ‘Best-laid plans and all that.’

  Out in the main reception area, the drunken man we’d seen earlier was still flanked by two police officers. But the fight had gone out of him and he looked like he was asleep. Actually, now the blood had been cleaned from his face and he was no longer flailing about, he looked very familiar.

  As we drew level with him, I slowed down.

  ‘Darren?’ I gasped.

  My brother-in-law opened his eyes and rubbed them. ‘Nope. It’s not me. Don’t tell your sister, because it’s not me.’

  ‘It’s not the normal you, admittedly.’ I don’t think I’d ever known him drink enough to get drunk. This was a first. I caught the eye of one of the officers. ‘I am family, I promise. What’s he done?’

  ‘Cut his head in a fight outside the Royal Oak,’ said the officer, looking distinctly fed up.

  Darren struggled to sit up. ‘That shit-fer-brains Tommy Dawson asked me if I’d mind if he had a crack at Evie now we’ve split up,’ he grunted angrily.

  Jensen pressed my arm discreetly. ‘Are you going to introduce us?’

  ‘Yes of course, how rude of me.’ I felt my face flush.

  This was just perfect. My family and I were making one hell of an impression today; first an unwanted pregnancy and now a drunk and disorderly … ‘Darren, this is Jensen Butterworth, my boss’s grandson.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you,’ said Jensen, he extended a hand automatically before realizing that Darren was handcuffed to two officers. He patted his shoulder instead and looked at me. There was a strange expression on his face: somewhere between intrigued, horrified and amused.

  ‘And Darren is my sister Evie’s husband.’

  ‘Soon to be ex-husband,’ Darren chuntered. ‘What are you doing in here anyway?’

  ‘I hit my head at work,’ I said, which was the truth, but all the same, I couldn’t quite meet his eye. Not that there was anything to worry about there; his eyeballs seemed to be looking in different directions.

  Suddenly there was a commotion at the reception desk and we all turned to see a diminutive blonde demanding to see someone in charge.

  ‘Oh no, it’s my sister,’ I hissed to Jensen, looking for a way out. But it was no use; a nurse was already pointing at us.

  His eyes widened with curiosity, I could only imagine what he’d be telling Betsy later on. This was getting worse by the second.

  ‘Darren, what the hell?’ Evie yelled, taking in the sight of her usually law-abiding husband wedged between two policemen. ‘I’ve just had a call from the landlord at the Royal Oak. What’s going on? Don’t tell me you really picked a fight with that lunatic Tommy Dawson? And why did you call Lottie and not me? Hello, sis.’ She took a breather from yelling at Darren to kiss me and raise her eyebrows at Jensen and me holding hands. Then she did a double take, noticing the dressing on my forehead.

  ‘I didn’t, she’s ill too,’ Darren protested.

  ‘Bloody hell, Lottie.’ She stared at me. ‘Are you okay?’

  I swallowed. ‘Fine. Absolutely fine. This is Jensen.’

  ‘Hi,’ she said, flicking her eyes to him briefly and back to me. ‘You don’t look fine. What happened to you?’

  ‘Nothing.’ And then, without thinking, I did something for the first time, something that from then on I’d be doing approximately once every five minutes for the next few months: I placed a hand protectively on my tummy.

  With the sixth sense of someone who had been enviously watching other pregnant women for years, Evie noticed the move straight away. The blood drained from her face.

  ‘You’re … Oh my God, you’re pregnant, aren’t you? Are you pregnant?’

  My mouth went dry; so much for not telling her.

  ‘I’m so, so sorry, Evie.’

  Chapter 17

  When our taxi pulled into the drive leading up to Butterworth Wines, Pippa, Clare, Roger and Godfrey were waiting for us.

  ‘You’ve got a welcome committee,’ Jensen murmured. ‘The returning heroine.’

  I looked away, cursing the tears that threatened to fall. Again.

  ‘I’ve let everyone down, cast a shadow over our lovely open day, made you miss your party and driven away my only sister. Hardly heroic.’

  ‘Here, this is my last one,’ he said, handing me a tissue. ‘Lottie, give yourself a break. You’ve had a traumatic day and a big shock. And I know it was a big shock for your sister too, but it’s okay to put yourself ahead of others once in a while. Gran is forever singing praises about your kindness. And look at this lot.’

  The welcome committee were waving wildly, except Roger who was doing his air traffic control impression for the taxi driver, pointing out a parking space.

  I looked at my lap. ‘You don’t understand. My sister has got a lot of stuff going on.’

  ‘Try not to worry.’ Jensen squeezed my hand. ‘I’m sure she knows you need support and I bet she’ll be over here like a shot as soon as she’s free. After all, she’s going to be an auntie. If you decide to keep it, that is.’ He looked uncomfortable. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t assume.’

  ‘I’m having it,’ I said staunchly. ‘Decision made.’

  He released my hand as the taxi came to a halt and hugged me to him. ‘I admire your certainty.’

  ‘Or craziness,’ I said, undoing my seat belt. ‘Depending on how you look at it.’

  It had been awful leaving Evie so distraught at the hospital, but Darren had been called into one of the booths to be seen and she’d ended up arguing with a nurse because the police wouldn’t let her accompany him. I’d sent her a text and left her a message but she hadn’t returned them. Goodness only knew what opinion Jensen must have of me and my family. Whatever it was, he was very discreet about it; he’d simply held my hand all the whole way home, kept me topped up with tissues and hadn’t once bombarded me with questions even though he must have been dying to ask some.

  The taxi stopped and before I’d even had a chance to open the door, Godfrey had pulled it open while Jensen got out of the other side and paid the driver.

  ‘Well, my dear, how are you? You’ve been gone for hours,’ said Godfrey, helping me out.

  The others crowded round me.

  ‘We’ve been worried sick,’ said Pippa, wide-eyed and so pale it could have been her who’d had the accident.

  ‘I’m fine, really,’ I said flatly.

  It felt like a lifetime since I’d left the vineyard and in that time my entire world had been turned inside out. I felt the lump on the back of my head, which had already started to go down a bit.

  ‘Give her some room, old chap,’ said Roger briskly, pushing past Godfrey. ‘Lottie, take my arm.’

  I did as I was told, although Godfrey insisted on hanging on to me too.

  ‘Oh, love, you have been in the wars.’ Clare flapped at the two men to let go of me and wrapped me up in her arms. I felt myself relax against her. Jensen had looked after me well, but I was missing my mum and my sister so much and Clare’s warm embrace was the next best thing.

  ‘I feel like I’ve done five rounds with Muhammad Ali. This bit in particular stings like a bee,’ I said, prodding my forehead.

  ‘Matt had to go to work but he sends his love,’ said Pippa, rubbing my arm. Her freckles had come out in force today and her nose looked a bit pink too. She looked fresh and young and carefree, in stark contrast to how I felt right now.

  �
��I’m sorry to ruin the end of a good party and I’m sorry I wasn’t here to clear up.’ I managed a smile and looked around me. The visitors were long gone, the yard was empty except for our own cars, everywhere had been tidied up and only the bunting, flapping in the strong evening breeze, gave any indication that there had been a major event here today. Heavy clouds were beginning to gather and the temperature seemed to have dropped too.

  ‘Don’t be daft,’ Clare said gently.

  ‘You’re all so kind.’ I swallowed the lump in my throat. I was exhausted, mentally and physically; one sign of kindness and I was in danger of dissolving like a sugar lump.

  ‘Let’s get you sitting down,’ said Jensen, touching my shoulder. ‘Would you mind coming over to the house? I’m sure Gran and Marjorie would like to know you’re all right.’

  My stomach flipped; what would Betsy say when she found out I was pregnant? The phrase ‘you’re fired’ sprang to mind. Who wants a pregnant woman in charge of a vineyard? I released Clare reluctantly and fell into step with Jensen as he walked across the yard.

  Betsy and Marjorie were sitting on a bench on the terrace looking out across the vines and didn’t see us approach. Starsky spotted us; he didn’t move, but his tail thumped happily on the flagstones. The sky was more dramatic from here without any buildings blocking the view and far away in the distance I caught a flash of lightning.

  ‘Did you see that?’ I pointed it out to Jensen. ‘I hope the grapes will be okay if the storm reaches us.’

  ‘Godfrey checked the weather earlier; we’re in for some rain, but the hail and worst of the storm is expected further south so it should miss us.’

  ‘Let’s hope so.’ I wasn’t convinced; the sky looked full of mischief to me.

  Hail could cause untold damage to grapes, bruising the most exposed bunches and ruining their skins. Pippa had told me that they once lost seventy-five per cent of their crop in a single day. ‘Because I don’t know what I’d be able to do to protect the fruit.’

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘See? Even now you’re worrying about something else.’

  ‘It’s my job and it’s important to me.’

  He stopped dead and touched my arm, his deep blue gaze holding mine. ‘I understand that, but things have changed now, haven’t they?’ he said earnestly.

  I blinked at him. This was disappointing; somehow I hadn’t expected him not to be on my side.

  ‘I’ll be working for months yet.’

  He cleared his throat and looked away. ‘Let’s join the ladies.’

  ‘Here she is,’ Marjorie cried, raising a glass with what looked like a triple measure of amber liqueur in it. ‘The woman of the hour!’

  ‘Me?’ I said, smiling to myself as I took in her rosy cheeks.

  ‘And her knight in shining armour,’ Betsy piped up. She got to her feet tipsily and kissed both our cheeks. ‘Hello, darlings. We’ve been so worried about you.’

  ‘My blood pressure was a bit low, that’s all,’ I reassure them with a smile. ‘Nothing serious.’

  Jensen looked at me pointedly, sending a flock of energetic butterflies into action in my stomach.

  ‘Gran, do you mind if I stay the night?’ He checked his watch. ‘I’d rather not drive back to London now; I want to be on hand for a while to make sure Lottie is okay.’

  Betsy and Marjorie exchanged triumphant looks. It didn’t take a genius to work out that there’d been some speculation about our relationship. Not that there was likely to be one now; finding out the girl you’d asked to dinner was pregnant with another man’s child had to be up there as one of life’s most effective passion-killers. Still, now was hardly the time to be thinking about romance; not now that motherhood had plonked itself on the horizon.

  ‘That’s kind of you, Jensen, but it’s really not necessary,’ I said, flicking the tiniest of glances his way. There, I thought, you are officially absolved of responsibility.

  ‘Of course he’ll stay!’ said Betsy, waving away my protests. ‘No arguments.’

  Jensen laughed. ‘Gran’s word is law, Lottie, so that’s that.’

  ‘Sit down,’ said Marjorie, patting the bench beside her. ‘You look dead on your feet.’

  ‘I’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep,’ I said weakly. Or rather I’d be fine once I’d got used to the fact there was another human growing inside me …

  Betsy and I both sat down and Jensen pulled up a chair from the patio table to sit next to us.

  ‘Jensen, you’ll have to take the little room; your Aunt Marjorie is in the put-up bed downstairs and Sidney’s in the big spare. He’s gone to bed early too, exhausted, poor chap.’

  ‘Gosh, Sidney! I’d forgotten about him,’ I said. ‘How lovely of him to turn up out of the blue.’

  Marjorie harrumphed. ‘Not sure his son would agree.’

  Betsy pursed her lips. ‘Hmm. Sidney is recovering from a heart attack and was under doctor’s orders to rest. That’s why he didn’t come to Ted’s funeral and didn’t want to worry me by mentioning it in his condolence card. His son and daughter-in-law practically had him under lock and key.’

  ‘So that’s why I wasn’t allowed to talk to him!’ I said. ‘At least he got my messages, though.’

  Jensen gave a bemused smile. ‘How did he get here?’

  Marjorie laughed. ‘The old devil waited until they’d gone out this morning and ran away! He enlisted a friend to drive him to the airport, then took a train and taxi here.’

  ‘He sounds a bit of a character.’ I couldn’t wait to meet him properly although, I thought, stifling a yawn, I was glad it wouldn’t be until tomorrow.

  ‘Just what this place needs: another rebellious pensioner,’ Jensen muttered with a comical look of despair.

  ‘He’s exactly what we need; he’s such good fun,’ said Betsy with glee. ‘I made him phone his son to let him know he was safe. It was quite a colourful conversation, I can tell you. Anyway, Lottie, back to you; what did the hospital say?’

  ‘Oh, nothing much,’ I said vaguely. ‘They told me off for not looking after myself properly. But luckily the blow to my head didn’t do any major damage.’

  I turned round so Betsy could feel the egg-shaped lump.

  ‘Crumbs, that’s quite a bump.’

  Nothing compared to the bump I was going to get, I thought wryly.

  ‘That’s good news,’ said Betsy, reaching for her glass.

  ‘Who’s ready for more good news?’ said Marjorie, beaming. ‘We’ve only just finished cashing up and I can tell you, the bank manager is going to be very pleased with us all. Very pleased indeed.’

  ‘Yes,’ Betsy chipped in. ‘Thanks to everyone’s hard work, we sold over a thousand bottles of wine of the 2015 vintage today.’

  ‘Amazing!’ My eyes opened wide; the retail value of that would be around thirty thousand pounds! We still had several thousand bottles to sell, plus a decent quantity from the previous year, but it was great news and fingers crossed would be the start of good things to come.

  ‘Not only that,’ Marjorie continued, ‘we took lots of pre-orders on the next vintage and had over two hundred visitors in total, some of whom have promised to re-order next month.’

  ‘That’s really encouraging,’ said Jensen brightly. ‘Well done, Lottie, the open day was a great success.’

  ‘It was a team effort but thank you, I’m so pleased!’ I said modestly. I was filled with pride; I’d never organized anything like it, hadn’t even thought I was capable, but I’d done it. It was only an open day on a small vineyard, but a few weeks ago my self-esteem had been at rock bottom and now look at me: learning and doing new things every day.

  ‘This calls for a celebration,’ said Marjorie.

  There was a small table next to her with a bottle of brandy and two clean glasses. She picked up the bottle and poured brandy into both of them and handed one to me.

  Jensen was watching me like a hawk as I took it. I felt my mouth dry up.

  ‘I thin
k I’d rather make myself a cup of tea if you don’t mind,’ I said. Decaff, or herbal preferably …

  ‘Of course,’ Betsy said kindly. ‘Alcohol is the last thing you’ll want after a bump to the head. We should have thought.’

  Jensen stared into the bowl of his glass and swirled the brandy round and round. I was grateful to him for not giving the game away, but I felt a sudden urge to tell them myself. I should probably have waited until I’d had my scan, or at least seen a midwife, but after Evie’s reaction I craved some female comfort and these two lovely ladies were becoming as dear to me as family.

  ‘It’s not just that …’ I took a deep breath. ‘The thing is, I’ve just found out I’m pregnant.’

  Marjorie choked on her brandy and banged her chest hard. ‘Bloody hell.’

  ‘Pregnant?’ Betsy’s jaw dropped.

  I nodded and gripped my glass, resisting the urge to gulp it down. ‘It’s come as a bit of a shock. As you know, I split up from my boyfriend – the baby’s father – before I started here and I have no idea when it’s due,’ I said, letting the words come tumbling out.

  I wondered when I had conceived; that last week I’d been with Harvey probably. I wasn’t showing yet, so I couldn’t be that far along. Although my clothes had been getting tighter, especially around the chest. And all the little things that had been happening to me made sense now: going off milk and tea, the tiredness, the upset tummy.

  ‘If I hadn’t gone to hospital today I wouldn’t have known,’ I continued. ‘I haven’t got used to the idea yet, I’m not sure what I’m going to do and I’m very sorry to let you all down.’

  ‘Why on earth would you think you’ve let us down?’ said Marjorie, staring at my tummy.