Bruno 02 - The Dark Vineyard

yet?”
    “Just briefly this morning when we saddled the horses. Poor girl, she looked very tired. Perhaps I should have offered her some sleeping pills.”
    “Can you tell her about the event at Alphonse’s place this evening?” Bruno said. “I don’t have room for all of you in my van, but I can come by at about seven and then lead the way.You’d never find the place otherwise. Now I’m heading for Fauquet’s for some breakfast. Would you like to join me?”
    “With pleasure,” Pamela responded. “That’s what we were planning to do. Fauquet loves it when I hitch the horse outside the café. He says it brings in customers. Did you know he keeps a small shovel just inside the garden gate for the droppings? He puts them straight onto those roses he’s so proud of.”
    “They win him prizes,” Bruno said. “You’ll see the certificate he got from the fair at Bergerac up on the wall of the café in its own frame, right beside his
maître pâtissier
certificate. But your own roses are just as good, Pamela. Maybe you should exhibit them next year and give Fauquet some competition.”
    “But if I won, he’d never forgive me,” she said, laughing. “And then I’d worry that my coffee would be muddy and my croissants burnt and he’d only give me the baguettes with the misshaped ends. Life wouldn’t be worth living.”
    Fortified by his breakfast, Bruno arrived early at the Domaine and was heartened to see the winery busy and Julien bustling around the vats with his long thermometer, scribbling figures in his notebook as Baptiste stood patiently by. The aged foreman carried a long glass pipette to take his samples, and both men beamed with pleasure at Bruno’s arrival.
    “It’s not time for the meeting yet,” said Julien, glancing at his watch. He was freshly shaved, and his jeans and shirt were clean. He looked like a different man from the unkempt figure who had greeted Bruno on his last visit. “I’ve still got work to do here.”
    “No, I just wanted to say hello to you and Mirabelle first, if she’s here,” said Bruno. “I’m glad to see you busy, but I thought this was the time when nature took its course with the wine.”
    “I’m trying something new that Baptiste suggested,” said Julien. “There’s a technique to get the maximum fruit flavor through maximum contact with the grape skins, leaving the grapes in the vat for six hours before we start the pressing. We did it with the one vat only as an experiment and we’re just seeing how it’s going.”
    “What’s the verdict?”
    “Promising, but too early to be sure. I was worried it might produce some bitterness, too many tannins, but the fermentation temperature is normal and there’s no bitterness in the taste.”
    “You worry too much,” said Baptiste, holding the pipette over a wineglass and lifting his thumb from the end to let the young wine drain in. He handed the glass to Bruno. “Try it.”
    “Tastes like grape juice, but very fruity,” he said. “Not bitter at all.”
    “Mirabelle is at home, and the door’s open. You can let yourself in,” said Julien. “Go and say hello and I’ll join you in the salon at ten.” With Baptiste’s delighted approval, Bruno left Gigi sniffing his curious way around the wine vats and went up the flight of steps into the main reception room of the Domaine.
    Mirabelle was up and dressed in a flowing caftan, with a turban on her head, and her face was made up with rouge and lipstick so that she looked almost healthy until Bruno noted the hollowness around her eyes. She raised her cheek to be kissed, and Bruno recognized the scent of Chanel No. 5.
    “I’m determined to be at this meeting,” she said. “I’ve put too much of my life into the Domaine for Julien to abandon it now.”
    “I’m happy to see you looking so much better.”
    “It’s one of my good days. I was determined it would be,” she said. “Julien has been a lot better since you came, more hisold self. Listen, the important thing to ensure at this meeting is that Julien buys back the option to sell the Domaine. It means raising fifty thousand euros one way or another because if he doesn’t have this place to fill his time when I’m gone, he’ll just fall apart again. I know him.”
    “Is that the only way, Mirabelle? What if he were to run the winery but let somebody else manage the hotel and restaurant like you’ve been doing? That’s not his strong point.”
    “But they need to be under a