The Vineyard. Karen Aldous
all followed her into the villa. Cal at once noted the change in the décor. Rather than Mediterranean lemon, the walls were now brilliant white and the floors retiled. The traditional red terracotta tiling had been replaced with high-end Italian marble, streaked with taupe and shades of grey. Creamy-white sofas gleamed in the light. The windows were draped effortlessly in cream linen curtains hung from black wrought-iron rails whilst white voile blew gently in the breeze.
‘Expertly planned but simply applied,’ Cal said. ‘I’m impressed.’
‘Thank you, yes. We are rather proud it has worked out,’ Annatia replied.
Charles followed without much observation, unlike Cal and Jez; he paid no attention to such domesticity.
‘Hmm.’ Charles twisted his head round to take in the scene. Jez broke in. ‘I’m sure I told you Annatia has an interior design business. She only came out in March and by the end of April had gathered a team to do the work. They were here for about ten days?’
Annatia nodded. ‘Yes, not too long.’
‘Good job,’ said Charles, wiping his neck. This small talk was out of his comfort zone.
‘Ok. Drinks?’ Jez led them all out to the terrace. ‘I’ll open a bottle of my finest shall I?’ The mid-day sun was diffused by a fully extended cream canopy over the terrace. Marble flooring and dark grey iron furniture matched the interior with wrought-iron balustrades furnishing the balcony. Beyond that, vines stretched as far as the eye could see with even a glimpse of the Med in the distance. Cal could only dream of owning such splendour.
‘Stunning, absolutely stunning.’
‘Yes beautiful isn’t it. As the sun goes down it becomes even more so,’ Jez said, proudly.
‘When I came a few weeks back, the visibility was poor and it didn’t stop raining so you couldn’t see far at all. I’m just overwhelmed. The house too, it was…’
‘Awful.’ Annatia cut in.
‘Err…traditional I’d say,’ Cal said diplomatically. Jez squeezed Annatia’s hand as they both laughed.
‘It’s coming together, gradually,’ admitted Jez, passing Charles a glass of wine.
Charles made a polite nod and nonchalantly slumped his body into the nearest chair. ‘What about turnover Jez? Is it paying for itself yet?’ he asked.
‘Are you serious Charlie-boy?’ Cal jeered. ‘No rent and over half the vines at least good to go – Jez is doing something drastically wrong not to be in profit already.’
Charles leaned forward in his chair as the others joined him with full glasses in the cushioned outdoor loungers. Annatia retreated to the kitchen.
‘Exciting Jez.’ Cal couldn’t work out whether he was really happy for his friend or just plain green with envy. Jez was living his dream!
‘Gramps didn’t do much with it as a growing business. This was his hobby, his retirement toy. He didn’t want to do too much so we’re financing a new website and upping the stakes for awards and appellation – generally putting ourselves on the map.
‘Well this won’t do your reputation any harm,’ Cal said, holding up his wine glass. ‘This is excellent.’
‘Cheers mate. A little “beaut “don’t you think?’
‘You won’t hear me complain.’
Charles sipped his too just to find out what all the fuss was about. ‘Umm, yes, fine young filly. I think. Aren’t French wines passé now?’
‘French wines have had to up their game these last few years with all the competition, especially from countries like Italy and the new world wines. It’s tough!’ said Jez.
‘I think our English wines will be giving you a run for your money too.’ Cal winked across at Jez.
‘How is Domain de Caroline?’ Jez asked as Annatia filled a table under the canopy with brightly coloured food.
‘She too is coming along nicely. Just given her a spray actually.’ Cal sucked in his cheeks at Jez’s reference to his own vineyard. His pride and joy and, woe anyone who mocked it!
‘Have you started building your winery yet?’
‘We finished the foundations and the panels are just going up. I’ve got the electricians coming in next week to do the first fix.’
‘Great stuff. So what square footage is it gonna give you?’
‘It will be about three thousand square feet. Not huge but enough for an office, two loos, cave, tank room, press, bottling and public areas. Caroline has been great helping with the planning. Although that is not going down well with the daughter.’
‘Oh! Not heard about this one at all.’ Jez raised his wide brows as he spoke.
‘To be honest, I don’t know much but I think she is the benefactor of the estate but she and Caroline don’t see eye to eye. It could potentially be a problem.’
‘Why?’ Jez enquired.
‘Told you,’ piped Charles. ‘Bloody women. Put a spoke in your works!’
‘You could be right Charlie-boy, you could be right. I don’t know the story exactly but she came home for the first time in years and they had a big row. Caroline isn’t saying too much but I get the feeling it’s about the land. The daughter, it turns out, lives here in France, in Cannes, so I thought I would try and find her as I was close.
‘Well that’s about as useful as a stone in a shovel of shingle!’ Charles at least was following the conversation.
‘I figured there probably aren’t that many beauty salons in Cannes but oh…how wrong was I? Anyway as luck would have it, I bumped into her yesterday in Aix.’
‘Excellent, so?’ Jez asked.
‘Humm…Ok, I’m keen to get them talking. I have to. I’ve invested a lot of money and time so it’s in my interest as well as Caroline’s. Although, Caroline worried me a bit when she said, “My daughter needs to do some growing up.” They’ve obviously come to blows and I’m not sure if either are that bothered to be honest.’
‘Leave it be then Cal. Caroline wouldn’t appreciate you meddling,’ Charles said with his lawyer hat on.
‘Help yourself to food, guys.’ Annatia called, peeling off the last of the coverings.
Cal resisted saying any more. He was acutely aware of two things, his vulnerability if anything were to happen to Caroline; what would happen to him and the vines? Would the contract still stand? Lizzie was never part of the equation. Also since setting his eyes on Lizzie his head had not been in the right place and his heart, well, it had been reeled in to the point that it needed to get nourished or starve. He needed to find out whether she felt the same. After her fluster yesterday and her effort this morning, he suspected she may. But even though she’s not in a relationship with the father of her child, she may have a partner, be married even. He was becoming quite keen to find out more about her, this beautiful, graceful but intriguing Lizzie Lambert. How he was going to do this, he didn’t yet know.
‘Anton. Please don’t call the salon! I’ll give you a number,’ Lizzie told him as she met him at his hotel reception. It was a vast hall of polished brown marble running from the front to the back of the huge Victorian building. A long contrasting light marble reception desk faced them with several staff busily greeting hotel guests clutching cases wheeled behind or stashed by marble columns. She’d only agreed to meet him in the reception area, public enough hopefully to keep Anton’s behaviour in check but Lizzie refused to sit down as she watched him pace.
‘Well