Rose's Vintage (37 page)

The first day of vintage dawned clear, warm and bright, as each day had in the previous few weeks. The Aussie summer was set to be a record-breaker, according to Dan, who had consulted the almanac where previous years' statistics on weather, rainfall and vintage conditions were noted.

Rose was up early for her morning run, just as the sun was clearing the Shingle Hills, and as she paused at the top of a rise, she saw a minibus travelling up the road to the winery. Must be the pickers, she surmised, and yes, sure enough, as she reached home she could hear the chatter of the backpackers brought in to help handpick the grapes. They were starting barely after sunrise, with Mark preferring to have the grapes picked in the cool of early morning, keeping their temperature low as they went through the sorting line, the crusher and then into the big open fermenting tanks.

Heading over to the winery at lunchtime with platters of rolls and fruit, Rose set up on the table outside the cellar door, returning to the main house for jugs of iced water and a huge cherry and almond cake that she'd taken out of the oven that morning. It wasn't long before she saw the tractor rumbling up the drive, Jake behind the wheel, and its trailer piled high with picking bins full of golden, juicy grapes. Glancing over to the winery, she saw Mark and Dan waiting to receive them, eager to start the winemaking process. The excitement in the air was palpable as the first bins of fruit came in.

‘Dig in,' she said to the pickers who had followed the tractor up the drive. Rose stood back and watched as the food disappeared faster than if a plague of locusts had landed.

‘Okay, back to work now. No rest for the wicked.' Jake had finished unloading the grapes, and grabbed one of the few remaining sandwiches, stuffing half of it hungrily into his mouth. The pickers were lounging on the grass in front of the cellar door, some of them looking as though they were catching a sneaky forty winks. ‘Hey, Rosie, how's it going?' asked Jake, noticing her standing there.

‘Yeah, okay I think. They're a hungry lot,' she said, indicating the ravaged table.

‘It's hard yakka, that's for sure. No wonder everyone's got an appetite,' he replied. ‘Catch you later.' With that he rounded up the straggling pickers and motioned for them to climb on the back of the trailer. Rose shielded her eyes from the glare as it rumbled back down the drive, churning up dust in its wake.

So the days continued, with Rose putting out mountainous platters of food at smoko and lunch; the food disappearing almost as soon as she set it down. The heat was relentless; the skies cloudless and searingly blue.

‘Bloody hell, look at me!' Astrid stuck out her legs in front of her. ‘Fat as an old
hausfrau
,' she said, looking at her swollen ankles. The two girls were sitting on the back verandah, watching Leo and Luisa chase Barnsie around the backyard. The chickens were sensibly some distance away.

‘
Christus
, it's so hot. Do you think it'll ever cool down?'

‘Don't ask me. I'm as new to this as you are. Hey, do you wanna come to the pub tonight? We can see if Mrs B will babysit. I feel like I've been stuck here all week buttering bread and baking.'

‘Sure. I could do with a night out, even if I am only having lemonade.'

‘Cool. I'll go and give her a call now.' Rose got to her feet and pulled open the screen door to the house, where, thanks to the thick stone walls it was at least a few degrees cooler. This was more than could be said of her accommodation at the barn, where the iron roof absorbed all of the daytime heat, turning into an oven.

They arrived at the pub just as the sun was setting and the cicadas tuning up. To Rose's surprise it was nearly empty. She spied the dreadlocked form of Bevan across the room and went over to see him.

‘Hey there. How come it's so quiet in here, huh?'

‘Vintage, babe. Everyone's too shagged to do anything but work or sleep.'

‘Oh right, I should have guessed.'

Astrid set two glasses of beer and a pale orange-coloured drink down on the table. ‘Two beers for you and a lemon, lime and bitters for me.'

‘Thanks, darling, how're you doing? Growing a pretty decent bump there,' Bevan observed.

‘Any bigger and I will pop, don't you think?' Astrid smiled and tossed back her long blonde hair. Even hot and tired from pregnancy, she still looked beautiful, thought Rose.

‘Nah, you'll get bigger than that I reckon. My cousin was huge by the time she was due to push her little nipper out.'

‘Thanks, that makes me feel so much better.' replied Astrid sarcastically. ‘I just wish my mother was happier about me staying here to have the baby. I haven't heard from her since she went back to Austria. She won't even come on the line when I call up. My father keeps telling me to give her time and that she will come around, but she is a stubborn one.'

‘Perhaps she'll mellow once she sees pictures of her new grandchild?' suggested Rose soothingly. ‘Anyway, we're all here for you. Luisa can't wait to have a new playmate – she was telling me today how she was going to help you feed and bath the baby, bless her.'

Astrid looked around the deserted pub. ‘Is it always like this at vintage?' she asked.

‘Yep. Reckon so,' said Bevan. ‘Pubs are quiet. Sacred Grounds is quiet. Everyone works their bums off and crosses their fingers that they'll get the grapes in on time, and hopes that Mother Nature doesn't decide to throw a wobbly at the last minute.'

They didn't linger. Astrid was exhausted, and apart from Bevan, there wasn't really anyone there to stay and chat to. Driving back along the dark roads, they wound the windows down to let in the breeze, the buzz of cicadas silenced as they gave up their evening chorus. ‘So, Rose, do you think you'll stay? After vintage, I mean?'

‘Well, I had planned to see more of the country before my visa runs out …'

‘You don't sound very enthusiastic. It's Mark, isn't it?'

Rose nodded. ‘Is it that obvious?'

Astrid laughed. ‘Ya! Just about everyone knows what's going on. At least it's stopped them gossiping about me.'

Rose reddened. ‘Oh God, are they really?'

‘It's all anyone can talk about.'

‘Bloody small towns,' said Rose, but there was no malice in her voice.

‘Well, I hope you stay. I didn't think I'd be staying here either, but it seems I am.' Astrid's hand traced the curve of her belly over the seatbelt. ‘Getting myself knocked over to a one-night stand wasn't exactly smart, was it?'

‘I think you mean knocked up,' Rose laughed. ‘Yeah, not exactly a great plan, but at least it's worked out for you. Thommo adores you, you know.'

‘Does he?' Astrid brightened. ‘I hope so. And maybe it will work out for you too. Don't think; trust in here,' she said, placing her hand on her heart.

‘Easier said than done. I've no idea what Mark's really thinking, but now is hardly the time to raise any of it with him. Mind you, I'm not sure when will be a good time.'

‘I think he is scared,' said Astrid keeping her eyes on the road.

‘Oh yeah?'

‘Yes. After Isabella, he is scared to fall in love again, to trust someone else. But anyone with half an eye can see he's completely crazy about you. You two are good together. Stranger things have happened.'

Yep, stranger things have happened, thought Rose, remembering the real reason she'd arrived at Kalkari in the first place.

CHAPTER 38

T
he following week, all but the cabernet grapes were in, and most of the pickers had moved on to other vineyards in the valley. Rose popped over to the winery with some leftover cake from the cellar door, and watched in fascination as the last bins came in and were poured onto a long moving belt where several helpers sifted through the bunches. She breathed in the sweet, heady scent of crushed grapes that filled the air.

‘Got to make sure there's no MOG in there,' said Mark, coming up behind her.

‘MOG?' asked Rose.

‘Material Other Than Grapes – leaves, shoots, rocks … even the odd lizard. It happens. We don't want them stuffing up the wine,' he explained.

The sorted grapes sped along the belt and then disappeared into the crusher. An enormous black hose connected to the crusher fed the now porridge-like mixture of grapes into open square concrete tanks at the far end of the winery.

‘That's when it becomes what we call the must,' said Mark. ‘The grape skins and seeds form a cap which we have to punch down several times a day. If we don't do that, the whole thing will overheat. It's a workout. The thick concrete walls of the tank help the temperature stay constant.' he continued. ‘And then, after the fermentation is complete, we press it and let it mature in these babies.' He pointed to the rows of barrels neatly stacked along one wall of the winery.

Mark, Dan and Jake had been working double shifts at the winery, and both Mark and Jake had several days' worth of stubble on their chins. All had dark shadows under their eyes. By rights they should have been cranky and short-tempered, but they looked exhilarated.

‘Reckon this vintage is going to be a record-breaker,' said Dan when Rose returned to the winery later with some lunch. Mark and Jake had each left to catch a quick nap. He had to shout to make himself heard over the thrum of the crusher. ‘We've done well to get all of Trevelyn's grapes in too,' he added. ‘We should have no trouble filling the Channings order.'

‘That'll be a relief,' said Rose.

‘You're not wrong there, Rose, love. It'll take the pressure off big time. We might even be able to expand some more next year. I know Mark's got his eye on some more land further up the valley. And he's more chipper than I've seen him in ages. I even caught him whistling the other day. But that's got a lot to do with you too. I've seen how he is around you, how he looks at you when he thinks no-one's watching.'

Rose blushed. ‘Yeah, well, it's no secret that we do kind of get on well,' she admitted. ‘But just between you and me, I don't think it's more than a short-term thing.' Rose said, trying to play it down.

He looked surprised – and hurt. ‘What makes you say that? I thought you liked it here? You've certainly made an impression on the place, what with the cellar door cafe and everything.'

A loud crack of thunder sounded overhead. Dan peered out the window. In the time they'd been chatting, dark storm clouds had swarmed over the previously blue sky.

‘Bugger. That's the last thing we need. There's still a block of cabernet to get in. Better go rouse the boss.' Dan moved towards the door with unusual alacrity.

Rose followed Dan out of the winery door and back to the house.

She was in the kitchen when she heard the clomp of footsteps coming down the stairs. Mark poked his head around the door.

‘Hey, Rose, are you up to much? Can you wield a pair of shears? We need all hands on deck. Wish I hadn't sent the pickers home early now. This storm wasn't supposed to get here until tomorrow.'