Yesterday`s flower - Michelle Tarynne (fun to read TXT) 📗

picked up more yesterday if I’d known. Simon doesn’t have a licence, so he only drives on Le Domaine. And they’ll never deliver today. Shit. Shit. Shit.’

Looking at Max, Erika realised that this was the first time she’d seen him in a state. He rubbed his neck, pulling slightly on his ear.

‘I could go,’ Erika said brightly. ‘You guys watch the bo ling here, and Simon could come with me and show me the way, right?’
‘You won’t fit the bo les in your car.’

‘So I’ll take yours, with a trailer if necessary. I used to pull a horse trailer when my sister was competing. As long as I don’t get lost, I’ll be fine.’
Max still seemed hesitant.

‘Look, Max. What other options do we have? It’s either that, or you go and I help Jared. It’s not like I know anything about bo ling, but I can drive a car. I’ll just go slowly.’

Max studied Erika. ‘I’m not worried about the car, Erika. I’m worried about you. That’s an awfully big responsibility to put on your shoulders.’
‘I can handle it. I’m a big girl. Besides, I want to help. ’
‘Okay,’ Max said.
‘Okay?’
‘We’d be er hitch the trailer then, and get you on the road.’

♥

Half an hour later, Erika waved goodbye to the brothers, affecting a cheerful look.

In the Land Cruiser’s rear-view mirror she saw Jared wave and then immediately turn and march back towards the bo ling plant. Max stayed watching them a li le longer. Was she imagining his hesitation? Jared hadn’t even contested her going to Cape Town, and she wondered why her feelings were hurt. He’d given her a good-morning peck when she and Max had come back from the warehouse, but he was obviously distracted. After the night they’d spent together, she found this vaguely insulting.

She’d noted the way Max’s nostrils had flared slightly, the way he’d pulled his mouth into a smile before giving Simon his instructions in Afrikaans. She hadn’t understood a word, of course, but the message had nevertheless been clear: Simon was responsible for ge ing them to the factory and back, and if the bo les didn’t match exactly, Simon would be in a world of trouble. Simon had nodded furiously, taken the sample from Max, and indicated to Erika that she should follow him to the garage. She hoped for the sake of the journey that he spoke a li le English at least.

This was not the morning she had expected, but she was rather proud of herself. She was going on a mission. They were making wine, and she was going to be part of it.

♥

By the time Erika returned, it was well after lunch time.

Though she wasn’t normally one for greasy takeaways, she and Simon had eaten burgers at a roadside Wimpy, and that had hit the spot. The trip had been pleasant: the

vineyards on either side of the road were green and luscious in the early-summer sunshine, the Winelands breathlessly still and undisturbed. There’d been carol services and Christmas fairs promoted on placards along the way, and that had felt rather odd to her: Christmas in this heat? And despite the aircon in the Land Cruiser, a trail of sweat had clung to her neck.
Max had phoned as they were passing the Spier Wine Estate.
‘You’re a lifesaver, you know that?’ She’d noted the relief in his voice.

No, she’d found herself thinking before ending the call, you’re the lifesaver around here.

It was true. Without Le Domaine, Erika would have been out on a limb. It wasn’t exactly as if she’d forgo en that her wedding anniversary was the following week, but it didn’t cause the stab of pain she’d thought it would. A winter wedding had been her idea. She’d loved the thought of fur-trimmed capes and a long, flowing winter gown. Glühwein and mince pies. In this environment, with the sun beating down and the clouds mere flecks across the blue, their ‘special’ day seemed just too distant a memory.

And now she had Jared to get back to. She pictured him shirtless and tanned in the vineyard, his total disregard for the glass of red wine knocked over on the picnic blanket, seeping pink as he moved closer to her. Even the memory of how he’d looked at her made her stomach twist. Erika’s foot pressed down heavier on the accelerator, and Simon threw her a questioning glance.

‘Max needs us to hurry,’ Erika said, and the name ‘Max’ seemed explanation enough as far as Simon was concerned.

They parked as close to the cellar area as Erika could manage. Reversing carefully, she eyed the trailer in her rear-view mirror. Max had emerged at the sound of the car, indicating with a swinging motion that she could back up even further.
When she stopped, he opened her car door.

‘Impressive,’ he commented. ‘A woman of many talents. Why don’t you come and see what all the fuss has been about.’

Inside the warehouse, Erika realised she hadn’t even had time to study the mobile bo ling unit: a truck loaded with all sorts of metal tubes and mechanical parts.

‘It’s Italian. It can bo le as many as three thousand bo les an hour …’ Max began to tell her, but Erika’s eyes had already flicked towards Jared, who bounded over and embraced her, swinging her around in his strong arms.

‘You’re back!’ he said happily, pu ing her back down on her feet and kissing her with firm yet tender lips. ‘Come, let me show you!’

Grabbing her hand, he led her to where Simon was placing the newly arrived bo les. ‘That’s the in-feed table. It can unscramble one hundred bo les at a time and feed them

into the machine. From there, each bo le is rinsed upside down with sterile water. The water is drained and the bo le is placed upright on the track ...’ Jared pointed. ‘Now, as winemakers we have a choice: to purge the bo les with carbon dioxide or nitrogen oxide. We’ve left that step out this time – Pieter did last year and the results were great.’
‘Pieter from Le Cadeau?’ Erika asked.

‘Yes.’ Jared pulled Erika towards where the bo les were revolving under individual spouts or pumps. ‘Can you see the bo les over there? Those are being filled to a height that we have pre-agreed. We call this process gravity filling for obvious reasons. It’s all completely sterile – the filling heads and header tanks are sealed to the atmosphere, but we take four control samples at the beginning, middle and end of the bo ling run, just in case there are issues later on. Max and I have to take full responsibility for the quality of the

wine, so we like to be sure. The bo ling company will take two of each of those bo les and keep them separately for quality control. That’s their “insurance policy”. We keep the others.’

Erika watched the turning machinery. ‘What about sealing the bo les?’ she asked. ‘Do you use cork?’

‘Today we are,’ Jared told her, pointing to a collection of filled bo les. ‘Stainless-steel cork jaws and dust blowers remove the dust before the corks are compressed. The machines create a vacuum in what we call the bo le headspace before the cork is pushed in – pre y nifty. Some of our wines are screw cap, though. And then of course our sparkling wine is closed with a crown seal, but we’re not tackling either of those today.’
Jared pointed to a collection of filled bo les.

‘So that’s the out-feed tray. Simon and the team will take those bo les and pack them into trays. We apply all our labels by hand, but that will only be done next week.’
‘So what happens when all the wine is bo led?’ Erika asked.

‘It depends. Some days we are bo ling more than one wine, and then we need to do a wine change – that takes about half an hour because everything would have to be cleaned out, and sterilised. Today, we’ll simply finish up and leave the plant company to use nitrogen to push the last of the wine through.’

Jared squeezed Erika’s hand. ‘So that’s it really. Max and I will be here for most of the day, but for you it might be a bit dull.’

Erika looked to the door of the cellar as Prudence arrived with a tray of sandwiches, fruit and juice. ‘Lunch!’ she said to Jared.

‘Prudie, you’re a wonder!’ He strode over and picked up a thick wholewheat sandwich, biting it with gusto. ‘Max! Grub’s up.’
Max poured himself a glass of fruit juice. ‘Want anything, Erika?’

Erika noticed there were only two plates and glasses. ‘No, no. You guys go ahead.’ The brothers perched themselves outside on a shaded wall, the sounds of the bo ling

plant clanking and whirring inside the cellar. Jared’s plate was already empty by the time Max had only eaten half of his food.

‘You need me to make you some more, Mr Jared?’ Prudence asked, but Jared simply wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and shook his head. ‘Back to work,’ he said, giving a half-wave. ‘I’ll see you later.’
And Erika, who’d thought of watching a li le longer, realised she’d been dismissed.

Chapter 14

As December rolled in, so did the tourists. The wine-tasting tours, Jared’s chief domain,

increased to twice, sometimes three times a day. Max knuckled down meanwhile, arranging end-of-year bonuses, VAT returns and other administration. In fact, since the bo ling, neither Jared nor Max seemed to have had much free time.

Erika took to horse-riding on her own first thing in the morning. The book was progressing nicely on her side, and she revisited her artwork brief with some trepidation. There were very few images still to draw, and what would happen when she was finished? The thought worried her, and when neither brother mentioned it, she worried even more. At least if she had some time to plan ... get her head right, well, she believed she could cope with anything. Being at Le Domaine had brought both stability and uncertainty into Erika’s life ... Not unlike the De Villiers brothers themselves. Max remained constant, but Jared was his own man – untameable, even if she had been so inclined.

Unlike Max, Jared seemed incapable of spli ing his a ention. He was with her entirely, or he was somewhere else. The moments that he was with her made up for everything. Although he’d told her Max was the romantic one, he brought her flowers and surprised her with visits when she least expected them. He held her possessively, even in company, insisting that they be seated alongside each other in restaurants when they went out with his friends. The first time she’d met Heinrich, he’d nodded thoughtfully.
‘So you’re Erika,’ Heinrich had said in a way that made her flush.

Jared slipped his arm around her, drawing her in. ‘I told she was beautiful, didn’t I?’ His touch had sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine.

In between book illustrations, Erika was working on another painting for Madeleine, who’d still not managed to get away from the café at Scarborough.

‘I thought it’d be easy to come for the day,’ Madeleine had told her on the phone. ‘But I’m having to manage front-of-house and do