Bordeaux

ROMY

LEO’S POV

The gate of Gleyzes vineyard stood open, its hinges were so rusty because it hadn’t been oiled in a while, I guess. I parked beside an old tractor with a flat tyre and stepped into the heat. Rows of Merlot ran down the slope, the grapes were dark and heavy, It was beautiful, even with weeds growing wild between the vines. My phone buzzed. I retrieved it from my pocket to check who it was, and it was Delphine. I didn’t want to pick, but on second thoughts I did.

Delphine: Sunday dinner at my parents’ house. Don’t be late, then she hung up.

My jaw tightened in anger, because tell me why a sane person will be reminding me on a Monday of a dinner happening on Sunday. I let out a hiss and slid my phone back into my pocket.

“So. You are the buyer.” An elderly man stood at the end of the nearest row, arms folded, cap pulled low. His hands had a resemblance to the roots of the vines beside him.

“Leo Vignes.” I held out my hand.

He looked at it for a long moment. He didn’t shake it.

“Étienne,” he said. “For forty years I have been foreman here, I have never seen a Vignes walk these rows unless he wanted something.”

I let my hand fall. “I only came to take a look at the property before my father acquires it, Étienne.”

“Looking is how it starts.”

“Étienne, be nice!” Cautioned someone. Three girls were crouched further down the row, pulling leaves off the grapes. They stood up together, wiping purple-stained fingers on their jeans. The most aged marched toward me, chin high alongside the rest.

“Bonjour Madame“ I greeted.

“Bonjour Monsieur” She replied “I’m Alice. That’s Ambre, and that’s Anna. We’re pleased to meet you.”

“Thank you. You do the leaf work yourselves?” I asked.

“Yes, we are doing it ourselves this year.”

“Every year now,” Ambre said. She was staring at my polished shoes. “You’ll ruin those if you step in the farm.”

“They’ve survived worse.” I smirked, while jotting down what Madame Alice said.

The youngest girl stepped closer, a single grape squeezed in her fist. “Are you really going to buy our house?” Anna asked. Nobody spoke, so I decided to.

I crouched so I could see her face. “I’m only here to look at the land, Anna. Nothing is decided yet.”

“That’s what Papa said before the bank letters came.”

“Has Mademoiselle Agathe arrived?” Étienne asked abruptly.

“No, I believe she’s still on her way” Alice added, in attempt of changing the topic.

“We can’t continue waiting for her while doing nothing. Why don’t we count what you came to count Monsieur Leo?” Étienne asked.

”Of course, after you” I said as I stood straight.

We walked the vines for almost an hour. Étienne moved fast, hoping I’d give up. Every third row, I pushed my fingers into the soil and rubbed a handful between my palms, heavy yet cool clay, even in this heat, this meant the soil here is good. “How old are these vines?”

“Thirty years.” He rested his hand on a twisted trunk like it was a friend’s shoulder. “Monsieur Gleyzes planted them with his own hands. So you tell me, Monsieur Leo. How does a man sell his own hands?”

“I’m not asking you to sell anything.”

“Your money is asking.”

I decided to ignore that. I studied the bunches and noticed that they were more than healthy. “Your yield is lower than it should be.”

“We are short of workers.” His eyes flashed.

“This is the best soil I’ve touched in a long time,” I said.

Étienne grunted. It could have been an approval or a cough. He took me to the cellar next. The air in there was cool and smelled of oak and old wine. A bucket stood under a leak in the roof, half full. When my eyes landed on it, Étienne stepped in front of it like a man hiding a wound.

“Are you also writing this down in your little book?”

“I write everything down. It’s the only way I’d be able to give account of my visit.”

“Agathe will fix the roof,” Alice said from the doorway.

“With what?” Ambre said quietly.

Technically, no one answered her question. We stepped back into the sunlight, and that was when I heard quick footsteps on the gravel.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry!” a woman called, out of breath. “Étienne, I should have been out here when Monsieur Vignes arrived. Maman needed me to get the lemons but they took forever, and.....”

She came around the corner of the cellar carrying a wooden tray. A jug of lemon water. Glasses clinking. A plate of little cakes. Her hair was tied up in a hurry, a few strands stuck to her neck. There was flour on her wrist. She was technically talking to the tray, not to us.

“I hope Étienne hasn’t scared you away...” She added.

When she looked up, everything in me went still. She looked exactly like Romy, those eyes and lips that had said “I’m fine” five times in a row while her whole body shook. No smudged make-up, or music to dance to. Just sunlight, the smell of flour and a face I hadn’t been able to forget. The tray tipped. One glass slid off and burst on the stones. She stumbled back, her heel catching the step, and I moved before my brain gave the order. One hand under the tray. The other at her elbow. Cold lemon water splashed over my wrist.

“Careful,” I said. My voice came out rough. Her skin was ice cold in that heat. She wasn’t breathing. Her lips parted, but nothing came out.

“Aggie!” Alice said behind us. “I hope you’re ok, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Agathe’s eyes jumped from my face to her mother’s, then back to me. Fear first. Then something that looked like begging. Then she lifted her chin, slowly, like she was picking up a heavy load.

“I’m fine, I just slipped.” She snapped.

“I’ve never seen you slip,” Ambre said.

“Today I did.” She pulled her elbow out of my hand. “Thank you, monsieur.”

“Leo Vignes,” I said. “You must be Mademoiselle Gleyzes.”

“Agathe.” She set the tray on the low stone wall and gave me her hand. Her voice was steady, her hand was not.

She poured the water after that. Her hands kept missing the glasses. “Sorry,” she whispered, and nobody uttered a word, instead they were watching us. We finished the inspection almost in silence. I wrote numbers in my notebook without seeing them. Every time I turned my back, I felt her eyes on me. Every time I looked, she looked away.

When I finally closed the notebook, I made my voice sound business like.

“Mademoiselle Gleyzes, I have a few questions about the estate records. The debts. The boundary lines. Could we speak in private?”

Étienne took a step forward. “Whatever you need to ask her, you can ask in front of us.”

“It’s fine, Étienne,” Agathe said. “Please take maman and the girls inside.”

“Agathe....”

“Not now Étienne.”

He gave me a long hard look then walked away, muttering something under his breadth. The girls followed behind him, so did Alice. Anna looked back twice.

We walked down the row, away from the house. Neither of us spoke until their voices faded and there was only the soft rustle of leaves. At the end of the row, under an old oak, she stopped and faced me.

“What are your questions?”

I took a breath. “You told me you’re name is Romy.”

Her whole body froze, like a deer hearing a twig snap. “I’m sorry?”

“The other night, at the club we got intimate and all... I managed to catch your name but I did forget to get your contact.”

“I don’t know anyone called Romy.” Her voice was thin. “You must be mistaken, Monsieur Vignes.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.” Her fingers twisted the hem of her blouse. Her eyes went left, then right. “I have been in this house throughout the weekend. Ask anyone.”

“Agathe..”

“It’s Mademoiselle Gleyzes.” She quickly added.

I could sense that she was lying, it was basically written all over her face. Under it, she was terrified. I stepped closer, she stepped back, and her shoulders hit the trunk of the oak. I stopped at once. My hands had curled into fists at my sides. I opened them, one finger at a time. I partly wanted to push the matter until she told the truth, but she looked so terrified of me that I just had to back down.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” I said quietly.

“Then ask about the vineyard.” Her voice cracked in the middle. “Or leave.”

A bird called somewhere in the vines. I could hear her breathing, quick and shallow.

“I know what I saw,” I said.

“And I know who I am.” She wiped under her eye with the back of her wrist, fast and angry. “If you don’t have anything else to say regarding the vineyard, then I guess that will be all for now”

“I just.....” I was cut short before I could complete what I had to say.

“Thank you for your visit, Monsieur Vignes. Étienne will escort you back to your car.”

And with that she walked away. She didn’t run, though I could see how much she wanted to. Her back stayed straight, as if standing tall was everything to her. She never looked back. I stood there until my hands curled up again. Then I hit the oak with the side of my fist. The pain was sharp and clean. It didn’t help at all, I had come to buy her family’s home. And in one afternoon, I had made her afraid of me.

The sun was low when I drove through the gates of Domines Vignes. On reaching home, the house smelled of roast chicken and thyme. My mother was setting the table in the dining room, folding each napkin neatly.

“You’re late,” she said, without looking up. “Go and wash up. You smell like earth.”

“Maman, is papa home?”

“ Yes, he went to bed early, said he needs rest, like I don’t deserve one too!”

“Maman, you deserve rest and many more.” I added, trying to cheer her up. “Maman”

“Mm?”

“Will you be free after dinner?”

Her hand paused over a fork. She looked at me properly then: my face, my sore hand, my face again.

“For you,” she straightened the fork. “always.”

After dinner, we sat on the balcony with two cups of verbena tea. The vines below turned gold, then grey. Maman talked about her roses and the black spot ruining the white ones. She talked about our neighbour’s new tractor. I nodded where I was supposed to. Once, I laughed at the wrong moment. She noticed and kept talking anyway, giving me room.

My phone lit up on the arm of my chair. Delphine again. I turned it face down.

“Maman.”

“Yes dear.”

“If I don’t marry Delphine...” The words felt like stones in my mouth. “Will you hate me?”

Her cup stopped halfway to her lips. For a moment, there was only the sound of crickets.

Then she set it down and took my hand, the sore one, in both of hers.

“Hate you? Leo, look at me.” I did. “I could never hate you. Whatever you decide, I will stand beside you. Always.”

My shoulders dropped in relief. But her grip tightened.

“You must understand what you are choosing, though,” she said softly. “This marriage is not only about you and Delphine. The Renaud land touches ours on three sides. Your father gave his word to Monsieur Renaud with a handshake, before you could even walk. Two families, one name. That heritage is all we have.”

Her eyes were gentle, but they didn’t let go of mine.

“I know, maman” I said.

She kissed my forehead and went inside to blow out the candles. The wind brought the smell of earth and ripe grapes. I was thinking about a girl under an old oak tree, who looked me straight in the eye and told me I was wrong, I had never been more sure of anything in my life.