A Princess for a day

Chapter 2

The day of her departure arrived. Louella had many misgivings and wondered if she had indeed done the right thing in agreeing to her friend’s crazy plans. What if her parents called her to ask where Priscilla was and what if her mother wanted to speak to her? Louella thought it might be a good idea to turn off her mobile phone while she was on holiday, but then she knew her father might visit the farm and would want to let her know when he would be arriving. Oh! Dear! It was a predicament but she had given her friend her word and she would have to see it through.

“Louella, your lift is here dear sister,” Kay came rushing into her room, grabbed her bag and swung it around, with a hint of playful teasing. Was she aware of the deception, or was she just being coy, knowing that Louella would be holidaying at a wine farm where she would be introduced to a number of young people and amongst them would be young men vying for her lovely sister’s attentions. “I am going to miss you Sis. Wish I was accompanying you. Will you be okay?”

“I will miss you too Kay, it’s going to be awkward ...” Then she realized her mistake.

“Why, little sister? What’s going to be awkward? You are never lost for words among strangers. Anyway Priscilla is such a chatterbox, that she will make up for any loss of conversation you may have.”

‘Thank goodness,’ thought Louella, ‘her sister did not realize the meaning of what she meant. Kay then walked out the front door and Louella followed her.

On the way to the airport the three friends chatted freely; no mention was made of Priscilla’s deception. It all appeared to be so natural. Louella kept her thoughts to herself and bid them a happy holiday when they dropped her at the airport.  There was nothing she could do but look forward to a new adventure, with new people and where better than on a wine estate.

The flight was smooth as was the landing at the small airport just outside Stellenbosch.  She collected her baggage and walked through the sliding doors to the arrivals lounge.  There stood a driver in a uniform and cap holding up a board with her name on it. Immediately she felt a little thrill run through her body; a driver in livery fetching her at the airport, he was indeed a chauffeur.  Was she that important?  He greeted her and took her luggage.  

“My name is Henry,” he said with a smile.

“Nice to meet you Henry, and please call me Louella,” she said.

Henry closed the door after she settled herself on the back seat of the limousine. She ran her hands over the leather seats, and smiled. What luxury, she thought. Louella could smell the richness of the interior; the leather upholstery, which she assumed had been recovered lately. On a panel in front of her was a button, and being inquisitive, she pressed it. A flap slowly descended, becoming a small table in front of her. In the cavity were small bottles of liquor, glasses, ice and small cans of mixers. She helped herself to a can of ginger ale, and giggled. This was luxury and it was fun already.

The long drive to the wine farm was absolutely breathtaking.  There were a number of farms that had horses grazing on the grass between fruit trees. She wondered what fruits they were. Then came the vineyards which carried on endlessly; one no sooner ended by high fencing when another began. Louella could see the full trusses of grapes on rows upon rows of vines. Rivulets gurgled as they ran through the valleys. Louella could not resist opening the windows to let the breeze take her hair and to smell the richness of the fields. The drive took all of forty minutes before Henry eventually turned into a driveway which was flanked on each side by huge white pillars. The elegant steel gates slowly opened and Louella noticed a large bronze emblem centred between the two gates. This farm must have belonged to an old family going back a hundred years or more judging by the ornate ironwork on the gates. Already she could feel the excitement welling up inside her.

Old oak trees lined each side of the driveway. These trees must have been planted by the original owners over a hundred years ago and they were certainly not indigenous to the country.

“Henry, are the grapes ready for picking now, at this time of year?” Louella inquired.

“Not yet, Miss Louella. They still have to mature, which will be during February and March.”

“And do they still press the grapes by foot in a large round barrel, sort of thing?”

“Heavens no!  We have proper mechanized wine presses.  However, on some of the estates they still have those round barrels as you call then and once a year they keep aside enough grapes for this purpose. You see we have a wine making festival, which includes members of the public who climb into these large vats, without shoes of course, and some in their bathing suits, and they trample the grapes.  Fun is had by all. Then later in the day we have a feast and the public have the chance to sample the estate wines.”

 “What a pity, I will be back at University, but this is something I have to do after I have graduated.”

“We will be delighted to have you as a special guest Miss Louella.”

“Miss Louella, I will drop you at the front of the house where Thandi, our house-helper, will meet you and show you to your room. Your luggage will be brought up to you by Herbert, our butler. Should you need me to drive you anywhere, please inform Thandi and she will alert me.”

Louella’s thoughts ran to the movies she had seen of regal homes in England and could not believe that she was actually experiencing the same service in an equally elegant Cape Dutch home in South Africa.

“Thank you Henry, I might take you up on your offer once I have settled in here after a day or two.”  Henry nodded and with that, he left her with Thandi.

“This way Miss Louella,” Thandi said in a shy voice and she preceded Louella towards a flight of carpeted wooden stairs with highly polished banisters. Louella followed her at a slow pace, looking from side to side and up the staircase. She stopped to take in some of the paintings on either side of the wall, while Thandi stood waiting at the top of the stairs smiling shyly.

Eventually they stopped at a tall carved wooden door and as Louella walked through the doorway she ran her hands across the carving.  This was a magnificent house and very well preserved. She loved the warmth it exuded, the plush carpets, heavy embossed curtains with draw cords on the side of the window, and the lush flounces above the windows, although a little ornate for her taste, it was exquisitely fashioned nevertheless. Then to top it all there was a four poster bed. The handmade quilt reached to the floor, could it have been made by a previous owner; a deft needlewoman no doubt. Thandi saw Louella admiring the quilt, touching it and feeling the soft fabric while running her fingers lightly over the candlewick embroidery

“Does Ma’am like the quilt,” she asked softly.

“Oh! It is absolutely beautiful. Do you know who made it perhaps?”

               t’s my mother,” Thandi replied in her best English, sing song voice, which was typical of the Cape Malay people in the Cape Province. The Cape Malay people mostly spoke Afrikaans and of course tenses were usually mixed up when speaking English. Louella enjoyed their way of speaking and besides that she wanted to know more.

“Your mother?  She is certainly an excellent needlewoman. Does she also live here on the premises? Does she work here too?”

“Well, no Ma’am. She did used to work here until she had the accident. It damage her back you see, and now she can’t do hard work anymore. She mus lay down sometimes when the pain is bad. So she like to embroider and sew and Mr Bridges pay her for her hand work.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” said Louella with heart felt feeling. “I would like to meet her sometime, while I am here.”

“She live not far from here Miss. It is a small house down by the stream and it’s not too far to walk. I will take you there.”

“Thank you Thandi. When I have settled in and met the other people, we will make time to visit your mother.” Thandi made a slight curtsey and left the room.

Soon there was a knock on the door. Louella opened the door and the butler stood there with her suitcases.  

“You must be Herbert?”

“At your service Miss.” He said.  Louella immediately put out her hand to shake his. He appeared somewhat surprised but took her hand anyway and shook it.  Herbert was a man in his late fifties, she thought. He was not very tall and had a bit of a paunch. Louella recollected that he actually bore a striking resemblance to the butler ‘Jeeves’ as her grandfather had often described in one of his favourite books. “Is there anything else I can do for you Miss?”

“Yes, you can call me Louella.”                                                             “Oh! Miss, it is not my place to call you by your name, but thank you I shall call you Miss Louella.”  She smiled and nodded as he left her room.

Louella was not at all tired, but needed to feel the soft mattress the bed afforded and so she kicked off her shoes and lay back on the luxurious continental pillows. Her smile grew and she closed her eyes.  Soon she was fast asleep.  A little after four o’clock she heard a knock on her door.

“Come in,” she called and a rather stern looking matronly woman appeared in the doorway.

“Miss Louella, you will be required downstairs in half an hour to have drinks and light snacks on the back terrace. I will come and fetch you in twenty five minutes.”

A little taken aback, Louella sat up on the bed. She quickly read the name tag on the woman’s uniform.

“Thank you, Ms Fletcher. I will be ready for you.”

Without another word the woman left the room. Louella thought it a little strange as everyone else had been so friendly towards her except this woman. She wondered what part she played in the household. Without another thought, she washed, with the idea of showering later and washing her long hair, then changed into a cool casual and gently flowing dress, perfect for any casual evening occasion, she reckoned.

The twenty five minutes raced by and the knock came at exactly the time stated by the strange woman.

“Ma’am, I am afraid you will have to change for supper at 7.30pm. It is formal wear for evening dining at the Mansion.”

“Oh! Dear! I was not aware that we had to have formal wear on the Estate. I hope what I have will be suitable, perhaps you could advise me?” Louella said knowing she had very little if any formal wear.

“Do your best and wear heels, nothing too flippant, perhaps a darker colour would suffice.”

Louella did not want to badger this old dragon any further so she politely thanked her and said no more. She followed her down the stairs through the hall, followed by the library, housing an extensive collection of books with a bar counter at one end, and behind it was a huge glass fronted cabinet with about eight doors. It was laden with every kind of brandy, whisky and many other alcoholic beverages, but no wine.  Where was the Estate wine then?  She did not dare ask the dragon preceding her.  She quickly caught up with Ms Fletcher as she went through a lobby and out onto the Terrace. The Terrace had a lapa, which was a thatch covered open fronted gazebo, sporting another small bar counter, fully stocked with every kind of alcoholic drink and of course now there were rows and rows of bottles of wine, from various Estates and a special counter wine-rack with their own brand of house wines.  Easy chairs were scattered around with the occasional low table. There were at least eight young people either seated or standing at the bar. She was a little embarrassed as she was not nearly as elegantly dressed as the other young women, but nevertheless she walked up to a group and introduced herself. A couple of the men standing at the bar counter came over and introduced themselves to her, but the young women turned their backs on Louella and continued with their conversations. George, a tall young man with a mop of curly strawberry blonde hair asked what she would like to drink and she chose a house-brand rosé.

“She knows her wine!” George exclaimed. “Now that is a good year, too.” Louella smiled and followed George, who was carrying two glasses of wine, to the group of young women and their accompanying boyfriends. She sat in a comfortable chair and George pulled up a little table.

“I have often wondered why there are different wine glasses for white wine and red wine,” said Louella as she sat down.

“I will try to answer that for you. It is believed that the red wines have a heavier and more pronounced aroma than the whites. Therefore one would want to ‘nose’ the bouquet before drinking the red wine, or in your case, the  rosé.  So what you should do is to dip your nose into the larger bowl and sniff the aroma before drinking it.”

Louella giggled and did just that. George smiled. “Where are you from Louella?”

To which she replied “Bedfordview”.  Suddenly the young women’s chatter subsided and they turned to look at Louella.

 “Been there long?” enquired George, being friendly more than inquisitive.

 “All my life,” replied Louella. My father has a six bedroom house, two of which have their own lounges and full bathrooms. Of course we have three maids and two gardeners.  Then the questions began flowing and Louella thought that these young women were not the type of people with whom she wished to associate. When they thought that she might be wealthy, they pricked up their ears and wanted to know more and Louella thought it would not be long before they would be fishing for her father’s salary. Before the words left Angela’s mouth, Louella said casually, “My father is a businessman, with his own companies. He employs in the region of forty people including his accountants, who each have their own secretaries, of course,” and to this there was a chorus.

“Of course!”

“I completed my schooling at the convent, with straight ‘A’s and am now second year medicine; at Stellenbosch University.”  All the women drew nearer, and Louella’s reaction was one of great amusement. She followed in her father’s footsteps and no one could pull the wool over her eyes; these ‘ladies’ were hungry for not only money,  but knowing people in the right places, meaning ‘high’ society. She smiled in thought. What would their reaction have been had she said she had come from some backwater ‘dorpie’ or little town far, far away from Johannesburg.  These were not the people she wanted to mix with nor would she enjoy her holiday with them.  After a few more questions which Louella batted with a deft hand, she was interrupted by Ms Fletcher.

“Miss Louella, may I have a word please?”  She stood up, excused herself and followed Ms Fletcher to the far side of the terrace.  “Miss Louella, we are having trouble with the donkey, and if you don’t do your ablutions now, there will be no hot water left.”

Louella squinted at Ms Fletcher. What had a donkey to do with hot water? Did the donkey walk around in circles to generate electricity to run the hot water tank?  Ms Fletcher could see her consternation and for the first time a thin smile appeared on her lips.  Then she whispered, “The donkey is the hot water cistern, which is fired up with charcoal or wood or both and we have run out of charcoal at present and it is too late to buy it from the Co-Op at this time of the afternoon.”

All this was new to Louella, the town girl, but then somewhere stored in her vast memory, she remembered her Dad telling her about some of his travels and of course the hot water donkey.  

Louella burst out laughing, “Oh! I am sorry. I did not mean to be rude it just sounded so funny for a moment.”

The slight smile returned and Ms Fletcher said, “I thought you might like to take an early break,” and she looked over Louella’s shoulder at the group of young women with their heads together.

Louella replied, “You are very perceptive Ms Fletcher, and thank you for saving me.”

Ms Fletcher nodded and was gone.  Louella walked over to George and said, “I am afraid I have to leave the party, no doubt I will see you all at the dinner table.”  She excused herself and left the women to carry on with their gossip.

Opening her suitcase, she looked through her clothing and shoes, and among all the summer wear she remembered she had packed a navy skirt with a lacy top. “This should do the trick!” she murmured. She finished the ensemble, by pinning up her hair with a diamante clip.

Soon Louella was summoned to supper by a dinner gong; something she had never encountered before, but indeed something her grandmother knew only too well.  Everyone was already seated and there was an empty seat next to George. His eyes brightened when she joined the young people at the table.  The ladies turned their heads affording appreciative glances. The four course meal was served, and the food was really good.  George invited her to a glass of port in the library and they were joined by all the other young people.  Soon after the port was served, Louella heard one of the girls say to Luke, a tall handsome young man with an air of self-worth;

“Aw! C,mon Lukie, let’s hit the town pubs and have some fun.”

“Yeah! Let’s get out of this stuffy old shack!” retorted a few of the others.

Luke glanced over at Louella and said “You coming? Want to join us for some pub crawling?”

“Mmmm! No thanks, it’s been a hectic day for me and I need some rest before another big day tomorrow.”

“Aah! C’mon, don’t be a wet blanket, you’ll enjoy yourself.”

 “I have a very full business day tomorrow and I must have my wits about me, sorry everyone, I will catch up with you in the morning.” Louella was adamant that she was going to tour the vineyards and conduct her own business perhaps with Thandi’s mother as well.  What her business was exactly had nothing to do with them and they could think what they liked.

  “I will stay behind with Louella,” offered George, glancing at Louella. She in return nodded at him to his delight. Luke lifted his eyebrows at George, shrugged his shoulders and left the library with the rest of the crowd.

“Thank you George, I couldn’t face the bunch tonight again. I really feel that I don’t fit in with them. I am used to different, free and easy going friends who accept me for what I am and not what I have, and to tell the truth I don’t have much anyway except the house of course. However I consider myself a plain ordinary girl. I know my answers to the girls were a little misleading, but I wanted them to think what they liked and I appealed to their naivety. I would much rather sip cocktails and watch the stars.”

“I couldn’t think of anything I’d rather do and with a beautiful girl like you!”

Louella winked at him and they sauntered out onto the upstairs balcony to take in the clear starry sky.