Bruno 02 - The Dark Vineyard

comfortably under his belt, Bruno waited in front of the
mairie
. With a wedding scheduled at 3 p.m., the mayor had agreed to fit in the formal
attestation
of adoption at 2:45 as a favor to a fellow member of the town council. Never having bothered to register Max’s status, beyond agreeing to be listed as next of kin on the boy’s identity card and on his university application, Alphonse had been enthusiastic about Cresseil’s plan the moment he heard it.
    “Can you think of a better way to keep Max here than by giving him some land of his own?” he’d asked Bruno. “I always thought that once he had his university diploma, he’d be off to Paris or California or somewhere like so many of the kids.”
    The guests for the wedding were already gathering in the parking area beside the
mairie
when Alphonse’s car pulled up. This was not a marriage of local people that Bruno felt he should attend. Two of the temporary workers from the Royal Hotel had decided to marry after a summer of passion and hard work, and one of them had been kept on as the barman. Bruno shook hands with some members of the wedding party he knew, and then stopped as he recognized Pamela in a wide straw hat with a red satin scarf tied around the brim.
    “You look magnificent, as always—almost regal,” he said, kissing her on each cheek, and taking care with his enunciation. He had perhaps taken one glass more than was wise at Joe’s lunch. “But then you English have a special affinity for royalty.”
    “Bruno, you have evidently lunched extremely well,” she replied in her excellent French. “I presume you were at Joe’s
vendange?”
    “And like all the men of the village, disappointed not to see you there.”
    “That’s the wine speaking, Bruno. Marie stayed with me overnight before going off tonight to her husband’s bed.”
    “Marie the bride? I didn’t know she was a friend of yours.”
    “She helped me out a bit in the summer when things got hectic, so I’ve known about this romance from the beginning. And that meant I had to help dress the bride, so I sent Joe my apologies.”
    “Too bad you’ll have to miss the pressing of the grapes this evening, too. Now I have to run, but there’s one thing I wanted to ask you. There’s a Canadian girl working at Hubert’s
cave
and she’s looking for a place to rent. I thought one of your
gîtes
might be free. Let me know, or call her at the
cave;
her name’s Jacqueline. See you soon, I hope.” He turned to run up the stairs and arrived at the council chamber just as Cresseil was limping slowly from the elevator. The mayor, wearing his tricolor sash and his Légion d’Honneur button in his lapel, came forward to greet them.
    “We need another witness, Bruno,” the mayor began. “Alphonse won’t do. He’s listed as next of kin.”
    “Does it have to be a French citizen?”
    “No; anyone with an address in the department will do.”
    Bruno nodded, went back down the stairs to find Pamela and hastily explained why her presence was needed as he tookher by the hand to steer her upstairs. He said it would take only a few minutes, so it wouldn’t interfere with the wedding. His request seemed to fluster her, but she quickly recovered her poise and politely shook hands with everyone in the group. She knew Alphonse and Max from the market, but not Cresseil.
    “François Pontillon Cresseil,” the mayor began once they were all gathered in his office, “do you formally adopt this young man present, Maximilien Alphonse Vannes, as your son and inheritor, taking upon yourself all paternal responsibilities under the
code civil
of the Republic?”
    “I do, freely and willingly, as a citizen of the Republic,” said the old man. Bruno noticed the pride in Cresseil’s eyes as he watched Max make the ritual replies, and pondered again his suspicions about the fire. Max had shown no sign of hatred for the genetic crops at the demonstration; he had simply been there taking care of Jacqueline. Perhaps Bruno’s suspicions were misplaced. But if he was right, this touching scene was just the prelude to Max’s arrest and Cresseil’s heartbreak.
    “Then please come forward and sign in turn,” said the mayor, “and then Bruno and you, madame, in the space below for the witnesses.”
    Alphonse took photos of the signing, and the mayor brought out a bottle of his own
vin de noix
and began filling the small glasses that stood waiting on a tray.
    “We still have a few moments