Chapter 27
Australia
It was only eight a.m. and Ruby Creek was already shimmering under a glorious blue sky. Inside, the pickers were washing their hands and topping up their water bottles after a breakfast of fluffy pancakes with maple syrup and crispy bacon.
I’d been here nearly a week and had slipped into an easy morning routine. I’d get the breakfast and then enjoy a cup of coffee under the shade of the porch. This morning Jono had joined me and was endeavouring to revive a weary bumble bee with a teaspoon of sugar water.
For a large man, he was surprisingly gentle. I’d been instantly attracted to him that first day, and getting to know him had only strengthened my feelings towards him. I hadn’t met Pierre, but I was instinctively on Jono’s side and wondered what on earth Andrea could have been thinking.
‘Dad!’ Daisy called, holding out his mobile to him. She was in her school uniform ready to leave for the day. ‘Tim McGuinness is on the phone for you.’
‘Thanks, love.’ He kissed her cheek, picked a flower from a bush and tucked it behind her ear before taking the phone from her. ‘Have a good day, gorgeous.’
‘You too,’ she said, and gave me a brief hug on her way towards the gate. ‘Bye.’
A school bus picked her up from the end of the road every morning and dropped her off later. She was inevitably late, and seeing her sprinting to meet it – rucksack bouncing on her back, her hair flying – made me smile every morning.
‘G’day Tim, mate, what can I do for you?’ Jono listened and frowned. ‘You’re kidding? I’m sorry to hear that, buddy.’
Daisy stopped in her tracks and turned back. ‘What’s wrong?’
He covered the microphone with his hand. ‘Sickness bug. The whole team has come down with it.’
She looked at me and we both grimaced.
‘A wine tour?’ Jono continued into his phone. ‘No can do, I’m afraid. Don’t have the manpower, Nora’s away. Sorry about that. No worries, get well soon.’
‘What did he want?’ Daisy wanted to know.
‘He’s got a wine tour booked in for today and he’s going to have to cancel. He wondered whether we could take the booking instead.’ Jono turned to me to explain. ‘McGuinness winery is a couple of miles from here. The guy who runs the tour is a mate and Tim doesn’t want to let him down.’
I’d seen the minibuses full of day-trippers from Sydney on my forays to the nearest supermarket in the neighbouring town of Cessnock.
They followed a route around the Hunter, stopping off at several wineries sampling the wines on the way.
Jono had told me that they can be big business for the smaller wineries if you made the tasting experience fun.
‘I’ll do it if you pay me.’ Daisy’s eyes lit up with hope.
‘You’ve got school.’ He laughed. ‘And your mother would kill me if I started letting you bunk off to work for me.’
‘Since when did you care what Mum thinks?’ she challenged him, tilting her chin up defiantly.
Jono exhaled. ‘Where you’re concerned, your mum and me will always be on the same side.’
‘Are under-eighteens even allowed to serve wine?’ I pointed out.
‘No, they’re not,’ Jono replied.
‘Maggie!’ Daisy pretended to pout.
‘So, get going then!’ Her dad gestured towards the driveway. ‘Vamos. Scoot.’
‘Ugh, so unfair.’ She rolled her eyes but did as she was told.
I was conscious that the pickers were loitering, ready to start work.
There were six of them today: four boys and two girls.
The girls were Swedish, attractive and aloof.
The boys were younger, full of fun and clearly infatuated with the girls.
We needed to round them up and get them out to the Merlot vines, but I couldn’t stop thinking about that wine-tasting tour.
I liked a challenge, and it seemed a shame to turn away business.
‘I’ll handle the wine tasting for you, if you like?’ I suggested.
I’d tasted all the wines produced at Ruby Creek.
Each evening we’d sit outside with a couple of opened bottles, and Jono would tell me a little bit about the history of the winery and about the wines we were tasting.
As darkness fell, we’d listen to the birds tweeting their evening tunes, and watch the bats swooping through the warm night air.
I’d fallen under the spell of this place; it was vast and beautiful, and I loved the contrast of the neat vineyards set amidst the wilderness of the bush.
Jono looked sceptical. ‘That’s kind of you, but some of these folks can be real wine snobs. They get a hint that they know more than you about wine and they can be patronising suckers.’
‘I’m a professional sales executive,’ I told him with a glint in my eye. ‘Awkward customers are my favourite.’
‘You’re a better man than me.’ He gave me a lazy smile. ‘Thanks for the offer, but I’ve already turned him down.’
‘Call your friend back!’ I nodded to his phone. ‘Come on. How long will it take, an hour? I’ll set up, you can waft in, talk about the wines and go back to the vines, and I’ll work my charm on the punters, and everyone leaves a happy bunny.’
He grinned. ‘I can waft ?’
I held his gaze. ‘Okay, swagger then. Is that better?’
‘Much. Okay, you win.’ He shook his head, smiling and tapped a number on his phone screen. ‘Tim? Me again. Change of plan. We’ll do the tour.’
Two hours later, the tour group had arrived and were seated under the porch.
They were a mixed bunch: four Germans; a mother and daughter from Sydney who’d immediately wandered off to try and photograph a family of dozing kangaroos under the trees; a couple on their honeymoon, whose bodies were so entwined that it was hard to see which was him and which was her; and an American family from California with three grown-up children.
‘Keep an eye on the youngest American boy; this is our third vineyard and he’s starting to slur his words.’ The tour guide tipped me a wink and retreated to his minibus to wait.
‘We’ve all been there.’ Jono smirked.
‘Welcome to Ruby Creek.’ I handed out a sheet of tasting notes to everyone.
I’d already set the table with a flight of glasses, jugs of water and a batch of cheese straws which I’d knocked up out of ready-made pastry from the freezer.
‘Today, we’re going to be tasting the sparkling Chardonnay, our 2022 Sauvignon Blanc, a new Chenin Blanc, our best-selling rosé and two of our reds, one of which is my favourite Ruby Creek wine.
And then for those who still have room, we’ve got a Bacchus which is almost sold out – so if you like it, make sure you don’t leave without a bottle. ’
‘So you were listening, I’m impressed,’ Jono murmured, tearing the foil off the first bottle. ‘Full marks for attention to detail.’
‘But of course,’ I replied. ‘I hang on your every word.’
He laughed under his breath, shaking his head.
Jono had divided the pickers into two teams, each headed by one of the girls.
They’d decided to have a competition to see who could fill their trailer first. It was probably going to be the fastest-ever pick and result in a lot of bruised grapes, but from the hoots of laughter drifting to us on a warm breeze, it sounded like they were having fun.
‘My parents started this vineyard when I was a baby,’ Jono began, popping the cork.
He handed the bottle to me. Our fingertips brushed and a frisson of pleasure fluttered down my spine.
‘Their passion for fine wine must be in my blood because I’ve been lucky enough to live and work here my whole life.
Our heritage is in our Semillons, which have won international awards, but over time we’ve added premium reds to our portfolio and now our name is as synonymous with robust Cabernet Sauvignons as it is with our sought-after whites. ’
I went around the table with the sparkling wine, pouring everyone a sample, ignoring the American boy when he swigged his straight down and held his glass out for more.
‘We’re particularly proud of our sparkling wines,’ Jono continued. ‘This one has vibrant floral aromas, intense citrus flavours, balanced by a mineral acid backbone.’
‘What do you think?’ I asked, once everyone had had a taste. ‘Did you like that?’
The group nodded their assent, already eyeing up the next bottle. I pulled the cork out of a bottle of Semillon.
‘At Ruby Creek we like to think of ourselves as more than quality wine producers. We make good times in a glass, an opportunity to make memories with family and friends. We believe that you can taste our love for what we do.’ He turned to me and caught me gazing at him. ‘Isn’t that right, Maggie?’
I was mesmerised by his passion for his family’s business, by his obvious love of his home.
And if I was honest with myself, I was mesmerised by the sheer presence of him.
I’d teased him about his manly swagger, but I’d meant it.
I hadn’t felt this affected by a man since I’d bumped into Gordon Ramsay coming out of a boutique on Bond Street and asked him if we’d met before.
Gallantly, he’d said no, but he was sure he’d remember if he had.
It was only after he’d walked away that I’d realised who he was.
‘Yes,’ I stuttered, my mouth dry. What would his lips feel like? Would he be as tender with me as he’d been with that thirsty bumble bee? Would I find out? I wanted to find out, very much. What had been his question? ‘Yes. Absolutely.’
‘Maggie?’ said one of the Germans. ‘You are pouring that wine on my shoe.’
‘That was a success,’ I declared once the group had finally left.
We’d sold out of the Bacchus and organised to have two cases of Merlot delivered to Germany; and the mum from Sydney had placed an order for Ruby Creek wines for her daughter’s wedding later this year.
The Americans had been about to make a purchase when their son turned green and vomited.
The boy blamed the wines; his parents clearly blamed themselves.
They had bought a case of rosé and proceeded to slink back to the minibus, avoiding eye contact with the rest of the group.
‘It was.’ Jono nodded. ‘We make a good team, you and me.’
We collected up the glasses and loaded them into the dishwasher in Ruby’s Bar.
He reached a hand to my face. I held my breath, heart pounding, hoping he was going to kiss me.
‘Eyelash,’ he said, touching a fingertip to my cheek. ‘There, gone.’
‘Oh. Thanks.’ Hope vanished as quickly as it had come.
‘Maggie? Can I ask you a question?’
‘Sure.’ I felt my heart race again.
‘Would you …?’ He frowned and shook his head. ‘No, no, nothing.’
‘Would I what?’ I prompted. ‘Just ask.’
He looked away and then back again. ‘Okay, okay. Daisy clearly loves you, Max prefers you to me these days, and I was wondering if you’d stay a bit longer. Here, working for me. I’d pay you, of course.’
‘A job?’ I blinked at him, not sure how to deal with my disappointment. And then a split second later deciding that maybe, for once in my life, I should go after what I wanted for a change. ‘For a moment there, I thought you were going to ask me for a kiss.’
He slapped a hand to his forehead and took a step back. ‘Sorry. My fault entirely. Look at me, invading your personal space.’
‘No worries.’ I was doing that weird Australian accent again. My face was probably purple with embarrassment. ‘We’d better get back to the vines, see what the pickers are up to.’
‘Yeah, good plan.’
The two of us walked back to the vineyard, an awkward silence humming between us.
Jono stopped just before the gate and caught hold of my hand. ‘I think I’m being a bit slow here. So just to be clear, did you want me to kiss you? Because if you did then—’
My answer came in the form of a kiss, my hands sliding upwards across the muscles in his back. He responded immediately, the heat of his mouth making me heady with longing.
‘Clear enough?’ I pulled back to relish the look of surprise on his face.
‘Almost,’ he replied with a glint in his eye.
I laughed and kissed him again to make sure. I was slowly coming back to life and my goodness, did it feel good.