Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Chapter 9
Vendanges!
Lucille, our wine scientist, began her regular visits. For the next eight weeks she would visit
for a couple of hours at least twice a week. Every couple of days she and Sean would dis-
appear into the vineyard for hours to taste grapes and assess their ripeness. Stuck inside,
looking after Ellie who was a year and a half, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy.
Lucille was gorgeous, appeared to be single and was spending hours and hours alone with
my husband in a deserted vineyard.
As the days stretched into weeks I found myself imagining them having a full-blown affair.
My trust in Sean had plummeted with our stumbling relationship. I began to spy out of the
windows to see what they were up to. I kept reminding myself that I would know from
Sean's eyes. He couldn't pass through a border post with a single bottle of liquor undeclared
he was so honest. That didn't help reduce my angst, though. I had never been jealous before
but the state of our relationship left me feeling unsure.
When they returned from their promenades Lucille would field our endless questions with
the patience and demeanour of a teacher. Our 'serious
oenologue
', as Sean called her, was
reliable, despite her Playboy looks. I told myself to get a grip. This was my husband, Sean, a
man who had felt it necessary to confess an affair he had well before our relationship started
when we were playing the 'we're just friends' game back in our early twenties.
Sean's parents arrived to help with the harvest. John, Sean's father, was in his late sixties
and relatively fit. He was a forester by trade and still worked part-time on forestry projects
in South Africa. He quickly became a key man on the harvest team. Peta-Lynne, well-used
to grandchildren thanks to Sean's siblings' progeny, took charge of the girls and delivering
food to a hungry harvest team.
Sean and John commenced the mammoth task of cleaning equipment, vats and buildings. I
escaped to Thierry and Isabelle Daulhiac to talk over our plans for the coming harvest. They
had been very open at the Saussignac dinner and seemed like good people to ask advice giv-
en Thierry's impressive seven generations of wine history and the quality of their wines.
As I was leaving, their sons, Paul and Émilion, returned from school and a little white
van pulled up behind them. It looked empty, then a familiar head of curly grey-blonde hair
