Blackpeak Vines Page 20

  ‘Thank you. That was perfect.’

  Back down on the river flats, they stopped for lunch.

  ‘It’s not your sort of food,’ Carr apologised, pulling provisions out of his saddlebags, ‘but it’s the best I could do on short notice.’

  ‘It’s lovely,’ said Lizzie, truthfully, watching him cut up cheese and charcuterie. She broke open what looked like a freshly baked sourdough loaf. ‘This is excellent bread.’

  ‘Thanks. I defrosted it myself.’

  Accepting a slice of salsichon from the tip of his large and wickedly curved knife, Lizzie leaned back on her elbows in the grass and watched the valley shimmer in the sun. She could get used to this. Very used to it indeed.

  She rode back to the homestead in a haze of contentment, feeling more relaxed than she’d been in — well, ever, quite possibly. Slithering down at last in front of the stables, Lizzie reluctantly checked her watch. Dammit.

  ‘Somewhere you have to be?’

  Lizzie realised it was the first time either of them had spoken for hours. She followed Carr inside.

  ‘I’d better be getting back,’ she said, watching Carr take Sarge’s bridle off and hitch the horse’s halter to the rail. ‘I told Ella I’d be home by five.’

  He looked at her for a second before unbuckling the saddle and slinging it over his shoulder. ‘Ella,’ he said, softly. ‘Right.’

  ‘I know she’s old enough to look after herself,’ Lizzie defended herself. ‘But she’s going through … a lot, right at the moment.’

  ‘You want to tell me about it?’

  She shook her head quickly.

  ‘It’s none of my business.’ Carr wiped Sarge down with the saddle blanket. ‘I just …’ He eyed the overnight bag into which Lizzie had shoved her extra wet-weather gear. ‘I thought you might be staying tonight, that’s all.’

  Lizzie hesitated. ‘You know, Ella’s going to Auckland on Thursday. For a couple of days. She’s showing her work to an agency up there.’

  ‘Is she?’ Carr said, evenly.

  ‘If you’re not too busy,’ Lizzie said, ‘you could come over, maybe.’

  ‘Come here.’

  ‘If you come to the vineyard,’ she negotiated, ‘I could make you dinner.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Smiling, he pulled her into his arms. ‘But I meant now.’

  ‘You’re back late,’ Ella smiled, as Lizzie walked through the door. ‘I was beginning to think we’d lost you again.’ She put her book down. ‘Did you get what you wanted?’

  Turning her back on her daughter, Lizzie poured herself a glass of wine. ‘Yes,’ she said, carefully. ‘We had a very good day.’

  ‘I told you so. I knew you’d like Carr if you gave him half a chance.’

  ‘You like him,’ Lizzie observed nonchalantly.

  ‘Yeah, I like him a lot. I mean’ — Ella laughed — ‘he doesn’t say much, does he? But then again, he doesn’t need to.’

  Lizzie blushed into her wineglass.

  It was only three days away, but Thursday seemed to take forever to arrive. Having dropped Ella off at the airport with almost indecent haste, Lizzie raced home to finish her preparations. Ten minutes before Carr was due to arrive, she started to panic. Was this going to be awkward? Was she going to too much trouble? Praying that he wasn’t the sort of guest who turned up early, she hurried into the bedroom and out of her little black dress, pulling on jeans and a jumper instead. Too casual? Not if she kept the heels …

  Carr walked up to the door a considerate ten minutes late. He was wearing the same blue shirt he’d worn that night at Blackpeak, she noticed. Resisting the urge to check it for barbecue stains, Lizzie, falling into old habits, reached up to kiss his cheek. Catching her between the shoulder blades with one hand, he kissed her slowly and thoroughly on the mouth.

  ‘What are we having for dinner?’ he smiled.

  What were they having for what? Arms around his neck, Lizzie, half laughing, looked up into his deep brown eyes. ‘Venison,’ she told him.

  ‘This should be all right, then,’ he said, handing over a bottle of pinot noir.

  Lizzie’s eyes widened as she caught sight of the label. Well, that would need decanting. As she nursed it into her best carafe, Carr pulled up a bar stool. ‘Ella get away okay?’

  By the time they were doing the dishes together, it felt like he’d been there forever — in a good way. A very good way, Lizzie thought, taking off her makeup and slipping under the duvet into his waiting arms. She could get used to this, too.

  Waking sometime in the night, she curled a little closer into his chest and looked out at the magical silver light spreading over the vineyard.

  ‘Are you awake?’ Carr asked softly.

  ‘Mmm-huh.’

  ‘Look,’ he said, ‘at the moon.’

  Chapter SIXTEEN

  On the night of Glencairn’s woolshed party, Ella went through her wardrobe again. Jeans, obviously. Was it late enough in the year to wear boots? Surely it was; it would be a cold night. Especially in the woolshed. She was looking forward to her first high country party — she deserved some fun after being patronised to within an inch of her life on that godawful trip to Auckland. Ella pulled a face in the mirror. Apparently her portfolio was ‘interesting’ in a ‘very northern hemisphere’ way, and if the ten to twenty photographers the agency already had on its books with more experience and talent than her should happen to die in a fiery crash, she could maybe expect a call.

  You’re going to have to go back to London, she told her reflection. You know that. And soon. Yesterday, she’d got an email from her flatmate Jane asking if she still wanted her room. Ella shook off the thought of her grungy old flat. What would go perfectly with her jeans and boots, she decided, was her mother’s mulberry Ralph Lauren cardigan. She wandered out to find Lizzie already in it.

  ‘You look very nice,’ Ella smiled. ‘Is that belt new?’

  ‘It’s not too much, is it?’ Lizzie adjusted the chestnut leather over her hips. ‘I don’t look like a draught horse?’

  Ella rolled her eyes. ‘You look beautiful.’ Watching her mother knot a luscious teal-blue velvet scarf round her neck, she made a mental note to pinch the entire outfit.

  ‘Are you nearly ready?’ Lizzie asked.

  With a sigh, Ella headed back to her room. Time for Plan B — they couldn’t both go wearing tight little cardigans. What about her cable sweater?

  ‘Darling,’ Lizzie called, ten minutes later, ‘we’re going to be late.’

  ‘Just packing my bag,’ she called back. Late? For a party? Who cared? Finding some clean pyjamas, Ella stuffed them into an overnight bag. It was nice of Carr to offer them a bed for the night so they didn’t have to drive back. And if Lizzie’s later revelation that Rob and Charlotte would also be staying the night at Glencairn didn’t exactly have her leaping for joy — Ella sighed again — she had only herself to blame. She chucked a toothbrush and some cleanser into her bag. Was it even worth taking a change of clothes? Knowing Lizzie, they’d be out of there at the crack of dawn. Still, makeup and clean underwear wouldn’t hurt.

  Ella emerged to an empty house. She stuck her head out of the door.

  ‘Lock up, will you, darling?’ her mother called from the Land Rover.

  She threw her bag in next to Lizzie’s. Crikey, how much stuff did her mother need for one night? Ella clambered into the passenger seat and buckled in as Lizzie hit the accelerator.

  ‘What’s the homestead like?’ she asked, as they turned into Glencairn.

  Keeping her eyes on the road ahead, Lizzie smiled. ‘Beautiful,’ she said, simply.

  As they pulled up the drive, Ella felt her jaw drop.

  ‘Just wait,’ said her mother, looking over at her, ‘until you see the inside.’

  Walking up to the back door, Lizzie pushed it open. ‘Hello?’

  The house returned a deep and resounding silence. Muffled music drifted up on the breeze.

  ‘Carr must be down at the w
oolshed already,’ Lizzie said, wandering in unfazed. ‘Let’s just drop our bags.’

  Her mother certainly seemed to know her way around, Ella thought, following her out of the kitchen and into the hall. Then again, she had been over here working on Jules’s shoot nearly every day for the past fortnight.

  ‘Wow.’ Ella got her first look at the staircase.

  ‘I know,’ Lizzie grinned. ‘Come on, our rooms are up here.’

  Were they? She looked at her mother in surprise. But of course, she was forgetting that Lizzie had stayed here before.

  ‘Was this where you slept last time?’ she asked, as Lizzie showed her into a grand but rather dark and dusty room at the top of the stairs.

  ‘What?’ Her mother looked confused.

  ‘Can’t you remember?’ Ella teased.

  ‘That night is a bit of blur,’ Lizzie admitted, turning away to examine the wardrobe.

  Ella put her bag down on the bed.

  ‘There’s a bathroom next door,’ her mother said, ‘and another one downstairs.’ Lizzie moved to the doorway. ‘Charlie and Rob are across the landing, and my room’s down at the other end of the hall.’

  Ella raised her eyebrows. ‘We have a bedroom each?’

  ‘I don’t think there’s any shortage.’

  ‘He’s given you the best one,’ Ella observed, without surprise, having followed her mother down the hall. ‘You’ve got a verandah.’

  ‘Yes.’ Lizzie put her bag down.

  ‘Where’s Carr’s room?’

  ‘That’s his there.’ Her mother indicated the door across the hallway.

  Ella peered out through the French doors. ‘It looks like it might open onto the verandah, too.’

  ‘Does it?’ Lizzie checked her makeup. ‘Anyway, come on — we’re being rude. We’d better get down to the woolshed.’

  As they walked into the party, every head turned. The general dress code in the woolshed seemed to be fisherman’s rib or fleece, but Ella didn’t feel too concerned: her mother always had this effect on a room, no matter what she was wearing. Behind the cover of Lizzie’s shoulders, she scanned the crowd for a friendly face. She could see Carr in the corner by the keg, watching them over the head of an elderly man in a blue jersey. She was just about to point him out when she realised that Lizzie was already heading over.

  ‘Lizzie, Ella,’ Carr nodded to them. ‘This is Rex Macdonald. He used to be over at Blackpeak.’

  ‘Pleasure to meet you, love.’ Rex seized Lizzie’s hand. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’

  ‘Let me get you a drink,’ Carr said, his hand at Lizzie’s elbow.

  Ella smiled to herself. Her mother was causing havoc again. She really should come with a warning.

  ‘Ella?’ Carr asked. ‘What will you have?’

  She eyed the collection of bottles on the table.

  ‘If you’d like a red, the good stuff’s back here,’ he said, leaning over the keg to produce a bottle of Bannockburn pinot.

  Drink in hand, Ella made her excuses and wandered off to say hello to Hannah and Owen, Carr’s senior shepherd, across the shed.

  ‘I know, it’s totally mad,’ Hannah was telling Owen, as she walked up, ‘but Charlie’s dead set on the first weekend in May. I told her everyone will be too busy raking snow to come, but you know what she’s like — I think she’d quite like it if there’s nobody there.’

  ‘Planning another party?’

  ‘Hi,’ Hannah grinned. ‘We’re just talking about the wedding.’

  ‘The wedding?’

  ‘Charlie and Rob — haven’t you heard? They’re finally getting married.’

  Oh … Ella strove to keep a smile on her face. ‘Gosh,’ she managed. ‘How exciting.’

  ‘I’m glad somebody thinks so.’ Hannah shook her head. ‘You know it’s only a month away?’

  ‘In a hurry, are they?’ Owen leered.

  ‘Yes, Owen, after they’ve lived together for three years, they’re having a shotgun wedding.’

  ‘Just checking.’

  Hannah rolled her eyes. ‘I don’t know how we’re supposed to get everything done by then,’ she continued, turning to Ella. ‘On the subject of which’ — she pulled an envelope from her bag — ‘this is for you and Lizzie.’

  ‘A month isn’t a lot of time,’ Ella agreed, wishing she could sit down.

  ‘Just between you and me,’ Hannah said, ignoring Owen completely, ‘I think that’s the point. Charlie hates a fuss, and she’s totally rubbish at parties.’ She frowned at the corner where Charlotte and Jen were leaning in silence against the wall. ‘This way it can’t turn into too big a deal.’

  ‘They should just elope,’ Owen put in.

  Hannah laughed. ‘That’s what Rob said. Charlie was really keen before she realised she’d have to leave the station.’

  Ella looked at Charlotte. She was wearing old jeans and jodhpur boots, and she and Jen appeared to be in matching fisherman’s jumpers, but somehow she still managed to look like she’d just stepped out of the pages of some ranch-chic magazine. Ella sighed. Oh, to be that cool. If she were marrying Rob — a man like Rob, she corrected herself — she’d want the whole damn world to see.

  Turning her head, Charlotte caught Ella’s gaze. She leaned over to Jen. Slowly, they levered themselves off the wall and, to Ella’s great dismay, walked over to join them.

  ‘Hi.’

  ‘Hi.’ Ella took a deep breath. ‘Congratulations,’ she said to Charlotte. ‘I just heard.’

  ‘Yeah, thanks.’ Casting a sideways glance at Hannah, Charlotte gave Ella a quick little smile. Suddenly she looked less icy than shy — and a little awkward.

  ‘Is that the ring?’ Ella took in the glowing square-cut aquamarine on Charlotte’s finger.

  ‘It’s amazing, isn’t it?’ Charlotte said, offering Ella her hand. ‘Rob chose it all by himself.’

  Ella sighed again. It was, in fact, the exact same shade of blue as Charlotte’s eyes.

  ‘Don’t you pay him enough to buy you a diamond?’ Owen grinned. ‘You’d better give him a raise.’

  ‘Charlie doesn’t like diamonds.’ Arriving beside her, Rob slipped his arm around Charlotte’s waist, looking utterly unoffended.

  ‘I don’t,’ Charlotte confided to Ella. ‘Any idiot can buy a diamond.’ She smiled up at Rob. ‘This is special.’

  Any idiot? Ella wondered if she might be able to take a guess at one particular idiot’s name … Poor Luke. She wondered if he knew.

  ‘I’m so pleased for you,’ she told Rob, as the others went off to get drinks.

  ‘Thank you.’ Searching her face, he smiled his beautiful smile.

  ‘Really,’ she told him. ‘I am.’ She smiled back. ‘I had a feeling Charlotte might change her mind about wanting to get married.’

  ‘Yeah, well.’ Rob looked a bit shamefaced. ‘Apparently I’d never actually asked.’

  Ella didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. ‘Seriously?’

  He shrugged. ‘I could have sworn we’d talked about it often enough.’

  ‘What, theoretically?’

  ‘That doesn’t cut it?’

  ‘Here we go.’ Jen pressed a fresh cup of red into Ella’s hand.

  ‘Thanks.’

  Taking a mouthful of his fresh beer, Owen nodded at Ella’s wine. ‘I don’t suppose you see a lot of that back home.’

  She frowned. ‘At the vineyard?’

  ‘No, your real home — England, I mean.’

  ‘Oh, right.’

  ‘Probably don’t see a lot of grass, either.’

  Escaping Owen an hour later, Ella slipped out into the cool night air. The first sliver of the new moon was coming up. She settled down on the woolshed steps to watch it rise.

  ‘You okay?’ Carr rolled a fresh keg up to the bottom of the steps.

  ‘Fine. Just needed a bit of fresh air.’

  ‘Yeah.’ He nodded. ‘I know what you mean.’

  ‘How’s the location work going?’ Ella
asked.

  Carr manoeuvred the keg onto the first step. ‘Okay.’

  ‘You’ve made quite an impression on Mum.’

  He straightened.

  ‘Apparently,’ she smiled, ‘Richard’s doing the doco on horseback now.’

  There was a pause. ‘They’re close, your mum and Richard,’ Carr said.

  ‘More than close.’ Ella sighed. She’d been giving the subject a lot of thought. ‘They were meant for each other, those two. I think everyone else in their lives just keeps getting in the way.’

  ‘Including your father?’

  Including herself. Ella hesitated. Carr meant Tom, of course, but, well, maybe it would help to say it out loud. She had to do it some time. ‘Richard is my father,’ she said.

  She waited for Carr to speak.

  Owen lurched out behind her. ‘Here,’ he said, reaching down to grab the other side of the keg. ‘I’ll give you a hand. That’s a lot more beer than a bloke like you can handle.’

  In the hours that followed, she may — Ella had to admit the next morning — have overdone it slightly. Waking up in the strange bed she had only the vaguest memory of having crawled into, she realised that Lizzie was already tapping on her door.

  ‘Ella, come on.’ Her mother stuck her head into the room. ‘We need to get home.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘I’ve got work to do.’

  ‘It’s six o’clock,’ she protested. ‘On Sunday.’

  Looking rather tired herself, Lizzie delivered her habitual reply. ‘Half the world works on Sunday.’

  ‘Be the other half.’

  ‘Darling, get up. I have to get back. I need to make some calls.’

  ‘Shouldn’t we at least say goodbye?’ Ella asked, as her mother bundled her into the car.

  ‘I’m sure no one will mind.’ Lizzie started the engine and put her foot down. ‘I said we’d be leaving early.’

  Back at the vineyard, Ella got out of the shower to find her mother already hard at work in the office. Still in her dressing gown, she wandered outside. There wasn’t a cloud in the wide blue sky — it felt like summer again. It was hard to believe she’d needed a woolly jumper last night. With a yawn and a stretch, she went to dig out her sundress.