A Vintage Summer

by Cathy Bramley

  My heart swelled at the thought. Harvey had left such an unpleasant taste in my mouth that I’d assumed I’d be put off men for years. But there had been something about Jensen’s manner that had attracted me the first time I saw him. He was one of the loveliest men I’d ever met, he was kind and thoughtful, funny and clever and – I smiled to myself at the memory – a very generous lover. My mum would have adored him. He’d been there for me when I’d needed a friend over the last few months and he had come to mean so much more than that. Maybe he was the one: the partner with whom I could create the same loving relationship as my parents had had.

  Except that I had to let him go …

  The bedroom door opened silently and Jensen, wearing only boxer shorts, crept in carrying a tray. My heart jolted at the sight of him.

  His face lit up with a smile when he saw I was awake. ‘Good morning, beautiful!’

  ‘Don’t know about that.’ I smiled back and covered my left hand with my right, feeling silly that he’d caught me admiring the ring. ‘I’ve probably got panda eyes and hair like a bird’s nest.’

  ‘If you’re trying to put me off you, it’s not working.’

  He kissed me firmly on the lips before setting the tray on my lap. My scalp prickled with nerves; he was nearer the mark than he knew. After our cosy conversations last night, the things I was going to say this morning weren’t going to be easy.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked, perching on the bed beside me.

  I bit my lip and cast my eyes down to the ring on my finger. ‘Awful, I’d been planning on waiting until our wedding night, to, you know …’

  He shot me such a worried look that I couldn’t hold back a giggle. ‘Your face!’

  ‘You minx,’ he tutted. ‘Now, ideally I’d have brought you a really nice tea tray with flowers and fresh croissants but I was worried about you waking up and finding the flat deserted, so I’ve improvised.’

  My insides went wobbly when I saw what he’d done. He’d made tea in a proper pot, put milk in a jug and found two matching mugs. But the pièce de résistance was a rose he must have made himself from twisted silver foil.

  I picked up the flower and twirled it round. ‘It’s perfect.’

  Blind to my wobbly lip, Jensen continued, ‘I haven’t got much in to eat, I’m afraid. I thought we could go and get breakfast somewhere. Or brunch, if we don’t make it until later. So in the meantime, it was either a dish of leftover noodles or these …’

  He held up the two fortune cookies which had been tucked into our Chinese takeaway last night and swapped one for the silver rose in my hand. ‘Open yours while I pour the tea.’

  The shiny wrapper crinkled as I turned it over in my palm. Jensen lifted the teapot lid, a frown of concentration on his face as he stirred the contents before pouring us both a mugful.

  It was so lovely. He was so lovely. But I’d lain awake and watched him sleep for hours last night and I’d come to a decision. My stomach twisted; this was so hard.

  ‘Jensen,’ I began hesitantly.

  He held out my tea. ‘Hurry up and read what your cookie says, then you can take this mug off me.’

  Reluctantly, I tore open the wrapper, broke the little horseshoe-shaped biscuit in half and unfurled the slip of paper inside.

  ‘What does it say?’

  I swallowed, not daring myself to speak. If I’d needed a sign that I’d made the right decision, this was it. The motto in my cookie couldn’t have been clearer.

  There is no greater pleasure than seeing your loved ones prosper.

  I held it up for him to read.

  ‘True,’ he said with a grin. He handed me my mug. ‘Now let me read mine.’

  But before he’d even picked up his fortune cookie I set my mug down and took hold of his hands.

  ‘Promise me something.’

  He blinked at me. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Just promise.’

  He shrugged and gave a soft laugh. ‘Sure, fire away.’

  I took in a deep breath. ‘I want you to take this job in Cape Town.’

  ‘But Lottie, that would mean not seeing each other until next April?’ he said, frowning.

  I nodded and with a huge amount of will-power managed to blink away the tears. ‘But it would also mean you taking the promotion you deserve. I don’t want to be the one who stands in your way.’

  His eyes shifted sideways to the spot in the bed he’d vacated less than fifteen minutes ago. ‘What’s changed?’

  I shook my head. ‘Nothing. If anything I love …’ The word stuck in my throat, I was setting him free, the last thing I should be telling him is that I thought I loved him. ‘I’ve loved the time we’ve spent together. But I want you to go. Your gran has told you her plans?’

  ‘To move in with Marjorie, yes, but—’

  ‘So then you can go off and do amazing things with your water project, safe in the knowledge that she’ll be okay.’

  His lips twisted to one side and I could almost see the cogs whirring in his brain; he knew I was right.

  I gripped his hands tighter. ‘Don’t you see? This is the perfect opportunity for you to take your career to the next level. And you must. Do it for me. Please?’

  His troubled eyes met mine. ‘And what about you, would you be okay too?’

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ I said with a lightness my heart didn’t feel. ‘I’ll work at the vineyard for as long as I’m needed and once the baby comes I’ll take a few months off. Then in the autumn I’m hoping to start a course in viticulture.’

  The university course I’d mentioned to Dad was at a college just outside Brighton which specialized in all things wine-related and, providing everything was well with Baby Allbright, maybe I’d be joining the student ranks as a distance learner in September.

  ‘Sounds like you’ve got it all planned out,’ he said. ‘And us?’

  He looked so crestfallen that I almost backtracked and begged him to stay after all, but that would be selfish.

  ‘Jensen, I really like you; you make me very happy.’ Understatement of the century. My throat was beginning to ache with the effort of not collapsing into tears. ‘And I think you and I might have something special, but we’re so new. If we’re meant to be, then six months apart won’t change anything. I know it means you won’t be there when the baby is born, but we can Skype and FaceTime and talk every day.’

  He took a deep breath. ‘It probably sounds crazy to you, but I’m really looking forward to this baby. Talking every day won’t be the same.’

  ‘No,’ I conceded, ‘but the time will fly by.’

  He stared at our hands entwined for a long moment before exhaling sadly. ‘You’re probably right. And it is a good opportunity.’

  ‘There you go, then.’ I kissed him gently. ‘It’s a plan. And when you’re back in the spring we can spend some proper time together, the three of us, and you can decide whether the reality of being with a tiny baby and a frazzled new mother lives up to your expectations.’

  He gave me a lopsided smile. ‘Deal. So now what? Do you want to go for breakfast, or …?’

  My heart ached at the flatness of his voice; the sooner I got out of his sight the better. I made a show of looking at the time on my phone.

  ‘I think I’ll just head off, if that’s okay,’ I said bravely, pushing the duvet back, ready to get out of bed. ‘I’m sure you’ve got a lot of organizing to do.’

  ‘It can wait a bit longer. Come here.’

  He folded me into his arms and held me tight. I clung on to him, imprinting the feel of his stubble and the smell of his skin and the warmth of his affection into my memory. This was going to be the longest six months of my life …

  Three hours later, the train pulled into the station at Fernfield. I collected my belongings, which didn’t amount to much – I’d even left my cool bag in Fiona Love’s studio – and stepped on to the platform. The crisp air was a good few degrees cooler than London and I shivered as I headed for the car park
.

  There’d been a couple of messages on my phone, including one from Evie to say that she and Darren were bringing home Roni and Skipper, their rescue dogs, today and would I like to call round later to say hello. There hadn’t been any message from Jensen.

  I paid the parking fee and climbed into the van. Before I started the engine I called Betsy.

  ‘It’s Lottie,’ I said brightly when she answered. ‘I’m in the village and on my way home; do you need anything from the shops while I’m out?’

  ‘Oh, there you are!’ she said. ‘We knocked at your cottage but there was no reply.’

  ‘We? Is Marjorie with you?’

  ‘No!’ Her voice was brimming with excitement. ‘You’ve got a visitor. A handsome male visitor.’

  Jensen! I almost gasped with delight. He had obviously raced me back to declare he loved me and that he wasn’t going to take the job in Cape Town because he couldn’t bear us to be apart. To hell with my principles, I thought; this time I wasn’t going to argue.

  ‘How on earth did he manage to make it back from London before me?’ I said, laughing. ‘Tell him I’ll be there as soon as I can.’

  ‘Will do.’ Betsy half-covered the mouthpiece and called out loudly, ‘Harvey, dear, she’s on her way.’

  My blood turned to ice with terror and I ended the call without saying another word. My heart was pounding so hard I couldn’t think. I gripped the steering wheel and forced myself to breathe.

  What the hell was he doing here? What was I going to do? Evie. I’d call Evie. With fumbling fingers, I searched my phone for her number. She answered on the first ring.

  ‘Hey, it’s my celebrity sister!’ she said gaily. It sounded as if she was driving; it was a bad line and there was a lot of noise in the background. ‘Star of national radio and queen of English champagne. I’m honoured!’

  Normally I’d correct her on the champagne thing and tell her that only French stuff was allowed to be called that, but wine terminology was the last thing on my mind.

  ‘Harvey’s come back. I’ve just got off the train and he’s at the vineyard waiting for me.’ The words tumbled out in a rush. ‘He must have heard me on the radio yesterday, so he knows where I live. Oh my GOD! And that I’m pregnant.’

  ‘Shit,’ Evie gasped. ‘If he knows all that, he’s going to know you’re engaged to be married too.’

  A wave of nausea hit me, I could just imagine him listening in and getting more and more angry.

  ‘But I’m not, not really!’ My voice was trembling. I threw open the van door to get some fresh air, worried I might be sick.

  ‘I know, sis, I spoke to Dad last night.’ The line cracked for a moment. ‘There, I’ve put you on hands-free so Darren can hear this as well.’

  ‘Lottie, Evie told me what happened last time this thug came to visit.’ Darren’s voice was firm but calm. ‘He’s obviously dangerous; think of the baby.’

  ‘His baby,’ I yelped. ‘I am so cross with myself. I should never have done that interview; I knew as soon as I mentioned being pregnant that it was a mistake.’

  ‘Phone the police,’ Evie ordered.

  ‘Can’t you and Darren come over?’ I pleaded. ‘There’s safety in numbers; I’m sure he wouldn’t try anything on with another man there. And maybe he just wants to talk.’

  Darren and Evie both groaned.

  ‘Oh, honey, I’m so sorry but we can’t,’ said Evie.

  ‘We’re on our way to Dover to collect the dogs,’ Darren explained. ‘Agnes organized a specialist animal transport company to bring them over on the ferry.’

  ‘And we’re nearly there – we can’t get out of it now,’ Evie added.

  My heart sank. ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘Just don’t go back to the vineyard,’ Evie suggested.

  I blew out a breath. ‘Harvey’s expecting me any minute, he might get suspicious if I don’t arrive and I can’t leave Betsy to deal with him alone.’

  ‘The police then,’ Evie said firmly. ‘Call them now and keep me posted. I love you.’

  I ended the call and started the engine. There was no time to call the police, besides it wasn’t as though it was an emergency, just an unpleasant situation. Harvey might be an idiot, but he’d never hurt his own child, would he? I shuddered and gave myself a shake. Of course not. Anyway, by the time they turned up, I could have sorted out the situation myself. Probably.

  ‘Okay, little one, time to face the music,’ I said bravely.

  The sooner this was over, the better.

  Chapter 30

  By the time I turned into the driveway at Butterworth Wines, I was shaking like a leaf. The doors to the winery were closed and there were no cars in the yard. Even if I’d been planning on calling in reinforcements from the rest of the team, I wouldn’t have been able to. Maybe I was being a bit foolhardy, but this was my mess and I was going to be the one to clear it up. Before getting out of the van, I slipped off Jensen’s ring and shut it into the glove box.

  Harvey might have been controlling and a little forthright in his views at times, I told myself firmly, as I made my way up the path towards Betsy’s front door, but he had never been a violent man. Well, not until I’d left him unexpectedly with only a note to let him know why. Mind you, there was that time when he’d pulled my hair. Still, inside he was a good man, someone I’d loved and who’d loved me. He wouldn’t lay a finger on a pregnant woman.

  As I reached the front step, I touched my tummy soothingly in case the baby was feeling my anguish.

  ‘We’ll be fine, I promise,’ I murmured under my breath and raised my hand to knock on the door.

  Before my knuckles had even made contact, the door opened and Harvey stood in front of me.

  My heart rattled with fear and instinctively I took a step back.

  ‘Surprise, surprise,’ he said with a wolfish smile. He leaned casually against the frame of the door, arms folded.

  The blood drained from my head and for a moment I was worried I might faint. I reached a hand out to lean on the wall and inhaled sharply.

  ‘There’s no need to look so petrified,’ he said.

  ‘Isn’t there?’ My mouth was so dry I could scarcely get my words out. I rubbed my tongue over my teeth.

  Ignoring my question, his eyes roamed down to my stomach. Even though the dress was loose fitting he knew my body well enough to notice the changes. The thought of that made me feel sick.

  ‘There’s a bit more of you than the last time I saw you,’ he said in a dangerously low voice.

  I took in his appearance properly. Ironically there was less of him. He looked like the old Harvey. His black hair was longer, like it had been when I’d first met him, and he’d lost a lot of the muscle that had built up on his neck, shoulders and arms, which had made him appear quite bullish. He looked much better for it.

  ‘Yes, well, I don’t have to have those awful breakfast shakes any more,’ I said defiantly.

  ‘Don’t joke.’ He leaned forward and his eyes glittered with anger.

  I stumbled backwards, regretting my flippancy, and he caught hold of my wrist and grabbed me back.

  ‘Let go!’

  He released me and held his hands up. ‘Just didn’t want you to fall in your condition.’

  ‘Lottie, dear! You’re back!’

  Behind Harvey, Betsy was making her way along the corridor, trailing her fingers along the wall to keep herself steady. ‘Where are you? Let me see your lovely face. You were marvellous yesterday, absolutely marvellous. I can’t wait for us to have a proper catch-up about it all. Do you know the phone and online orders have gone through the roof? We’ve even got a waiting list for this year’s vintage.’

  Which would be the last Butterworth vintage. I felt a sob forming in my throat as my emotions became too much for me to keep in. I pushed past Harvey and into Betsy’s arms.

  ‘I’m so pleased,’ I said through my tears. ‘I’ve been so happy here; you don’t know what this place has don
e for me.’

  ‘Oh, silly, the pleasure and the privilege is all ours.’ Betsy patted my back and peered at me. ‘Harvey has been telling me how you two met and about your lovely flat in London. Quite the romantic, isn’t he? I must admit I was surprised when he turned up, but I’m very happy for you.’ She lowered her voice. ‘If that’s what you want?’

  ‘I … well, yes, I’m surprised too,’ I said, wondering what sort of cock and bull story Harvey must have told her.

  ‘I thought Lottie could give me a tour, Mrs Butterworth,’ Harvey said as politely as a Boy Scout. ‘Get some fresh air into her lungs after that train journey.’

  ‘Of course, good idea.’ Betsy looked disappointed at not having me to herself.

  ‘Actually, I want to go and freshen up first,’ I said. I pressed a kiss to her soft cheek. ‘Perhaps we can catch up later with a cup of tea?’

  Betsy and I arranged to have afternoon tea at three and Harvey and I set off across the yard to my cottage. I was all fingers and thumbs and after several attempts to unlock my front door, Harvey took the key from my hand.

  I stood back, expecting him to open the door, but he twirled the keyring round on his finger and closed it into his palm. He nodded at my stomach.

  ‘Due in February, then?’

  I licked my lips, wondering whether I had the guts to lie and pretend it wasn’t due for another six months, thereby automatically eliminating him as the father. But I couldn’t do it; whatever the relationship was between us now, at the time we’d made this baby, we’d loved each other.

  ‘That’s right,’ I said, summoning up all my bravado to look him in the eye. ‘I conceived sometime in May.’

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘Who’s the father?’

  I was taken aback. ‘You, of course! We didn’t split up until June.’