Rose's Vintage (7 page)

‘Ohh, hey boy,' she said, rubbing its soft belly. ‘And what's your name, hmm?'

‘Well, he howled along to Jimmy Barnes all the way home, so I reckon it's Barnsie.' Mark smiled fleetingly and Rose saw the clouds lift from his expression.
Wow
, she thought,
he's completely different when he smiles.
There was something that drew you to him, like the feeling of wanting to warm yourself at a blazing fire. She could see why even someone as glamorous and sophisticated as Isabella was reputed to be would have fallen for him.

Mark whistled to the puppy, but it ignored him, lapping up the attention from Rose instead. ‘Humph. Got my work cut out there, I can see. I thought border collies were supposed to be intelligent.' With that, he marched out of the room, Luisa in his arms, and clomped up the stairs, calling for Leo.

Rose ran her fingers through her hair and grimaced. Not exactly how she had intended to greet her new boss on his return.

As she was going back to the barn for a shower, leaving the kids with Mark, she heard a car heading up the drive. Changing direction and walking around the side of the house, she went to see who it might be. She caught sight of a battered ute with the numberplate, ‘CORK 1', and then a flash of Astrid's blonde hair in the passenger seat.

She tumbled out of the ute, looking quite pale. ‘Oh, Rose, I'm sooo sorry about last night. My phone ran out of charge. I would have called you but it was so late by the time I noticed, and I thought I'd be back early enough anyway. Thommo offered to drive me back first thing this morning, so I stayed over at his place.'

Rose waved at Thommo before replying. ‘Well, I was a bit worried about you,' she said, ‘But I stayed in the main house. The children were fine.'

‘I knew I could count on you. Thanks a lot,' Astrid smiled sweetly at Rose. Rose wasn't fooled.
Girls as pretty and young as Astrid
, Rose thought,
are used to getting away with things.

‘Oh, and by the way, Mark's back.'

‘Oh God,' Astrid wailed, suddenly anxious. ‘Did he ask where I was? Oh bloody hell, I'm in trouble now.'

Rose thought for a second about letting her sweat on it, but instead reassured her. ‘Don't worry, I covered for you. I said it was your night off and that you were in town with friends.' It could only help to get Astrid on her side.

‘Nice one,' said Astrid, looking at Rose with a new respect. ‘Thanks. I'd better get inside right now.' And with that she leaned back through the window, kissed Thommo lightly on the lips and fled into the house.

‘See ya, Rose,' said Thommo, ‘gotta fly.' He whirled the car around and disappeared down the long drive.

Later that morning, Rose and Astrid pried Leo away from Barnsie – the puppy had been a huge hit with both kids – and Luisa away from Mark, who had a backlog of work to catch up on in the winery, and drove into Eumeralla for the monthly farmers' market. Astrid had promised it would be fun and she was right. It was completely up Rose's alley. Trestle tables laden with vibrant fresh greens, earth-covered potatoes and khaki-coloured cabbages bigger than her head jostled for space with fresh cheeses, jewel-bright jars of jams and jellies, and handmade soaps. There was a butcher's stand with local meat, and a baker's stall piled high with sourdough loaves, croissants and flaky pastries studded with berries. All around her, people filled capacious baskets with fresh vegetables, meat and cheese, while fortifying themselves at a takeaway coffee stall that was doing a roaring trade.

Astrid pushed Luisa in a stroller, and Leo quickly found a couple of school friends with a football and ran off to the oval for a kick around. Rose stocked up on carrots that Bugs Bunny would have been proud of, their fluffy green tops still attached, a big bunch of spinach tied together with twine and a Halloween-worthy pumpkin. She spotted the Trevelyn sisters from the pub, each with a large basket of greens under their arm, and waved to them.

Her mouth watered at the sight of the shiny fruit- and custard-filled pastries, but Astrid steered her in the direction of a stall selling egg-and-bacon rolls, buying two, smearing them with spicy tomato relish and handing her one. ‘Breakfast of champions,' she chortled, through a mouthful of bacon. ‘Delicious.'

‘Mmmmm,' Rose agreed, tearing off a bit of fried egg and bread and handing it to a hungry Luisa, ‘Or breakfast of dirty stop-outs!'

Astrid looked momentarily confused, then laughed, understanding that Rose was teasing her.

They cruised the rest of the market, adding beans, onions, plump heads of purple garlic and a big bag of apples to the supplies, until Rose could carry no more and even the basket under the stroller was groaning with their purchases.

Leo caught up with them, having finished his football game. ‘Last one to the car's a squashed tomato,' yelled Astrid, careering off towards the carpark, pushing Luisa. Leo scrambled after her, and Rose, weighed down with bags, brought up the rear.

As they all climbed into the car, Rose made a mental note to ask Mark about the groceries budget, and her pay as well. She felt a bit guilty at the prospect of taking money from him, when really she was there for a spot of industrial espionage, but dammit, she'd worked hard all week. Getting to know Leo and Luisa, and seeing Mark again, even though he hadn't exactly welcome her warmly, had made Rose feel even more uneasy about her undertaking. She needed to email her brother, but she'd have to wait until Wednesday, her day off, before being able to get back into Eumeralla and the free wifiat Sacred Grounds.

As Rose fed the children their supper, Mark walked into the kitchen and cut a thick slice from the loaf on the bench, slathering it with butter. Rose hadn't been expecting him and his sudden appearance was unnerving. There was something about him that made her self-conscious, quite apart from the fact that she couldn't forget that she was there to spy on his winery.

‘So, Rose, you're English?' he said before biting into the bread.

‘Um, er, yep, that's me.'
Oh God, that sounded completely inane.
Still, it was a pretty dumb question
.
‘I grew up in a small village in north Oxfordshire, but I've spent the past eight or nine years living in London.'

‘Right. Well, you'll find the Shingle Valley a bit quieter than London I expect.' Mark turned his attention to Luisa, chucking her under the chin while she giggled gleefully and waved her fork in the air. He bent and retrieved a piece of pasta that had fallen under her chair. He dropped it in the bin before exiting the room as suddenly as he'd arrived.

Great conversationalist, then.
She was going to have her work cut out to find out what Henry needed to know – it didn't look like the boss himself was going to give much away.

CHAPTER 5

R
ose didn't see much of Mark the following week either. He bolted down a quick breakfast with the kids each morning and then disappeared to the winery. He came back to the house when Leo got home from school, helped him with his homework and then played with Leo and Barnsie outside in the fading afternoon light, patiently throwing sticks for the puppy. Much to Leo's delight, the dog returned them every time. He sat with the kids while they ate an early dinner and then returned to the winery for a few more hours. Most nights, Rose left food warming for him on the range.

One night Mark came back to the house while she and Astrid were eating.

‘What's this doing open?' he asked, his voice ominously quiet as he held up a wine bottle that was on the sideboard.

‘Oh shit,' Rose muttered under her breath. She'd grabbed the bottle from the back of the pantry. It was so old and dusty she hadn't been able to make out the label. Figuring that it was part of the store of ‘house wine' that Astrid had opened the first night, she'd added a generous slosh to the meal that they were eating. ‘Um, I needed some wine for the beef casserole. I thought it was okay to use. It was right at the back of the pantry. Did I do something wrong?'

Mark glowered at her. ‘It's a twenty-year-old cabernet from my family's original vineyard.'

Rose shrugged, not knowing what to say.

‘How the hell did it get into the pantry?' he said, almost to himself. ‘Was there any more in there?' This question was directed at Rose.

‘Not that I could see. Sorry, Mark, I had no idea …'

‘Well, the casserole had better be bloody good then,' he said, a resigned expression on his face. ‘Pass me a plate.'

Needless to say, after that, conversation at the scrubbed kitchen table was stilted. He was preoccupied, answering Astrid and Rose's polite questions with monosyllabic responses and scoffing down the food at a furious rate.

Astrid interrupted. ‘Mark, the school rang. They want to know if Leo will be playing soccer for the school team. You haven't signed the permission slip. They said they really want him – but they need the slip. It's already late. You should see him play, Mark, he's a very good striker,' she said.

Mark's fork slowed its progress from his plate. ‘Find it for me, Astrid, and I'll sign it. Really, I expect the two of you to keep on top of everything to do with Leo and Luisa. I've got enough to worry about with the winery.'

‘Yes, of course, sorry. I did give it to you last week, but I'll get them to send another one.'

Mark resumed eating, saying nothing in response. Astrid rolled her eyes at Rose, being careful not to let Mark see her, and the two girls lapsed into silence, unnerved by his stony presence. He didn't even make any comment on the meal, which was a pretty decent boeuf bourguignon, if Rose did say so herself.

Honestly
, thought Rose,
Mark Cameron has all the personality and charm of a garden rake.

The only small satisfaction was in watching him thoroughly clean his plate with a hunk of bread. At least he seemed to appreciate her cooking.

When she wasn't feeding everyone or clearing up after them, Rose spent her time setting the house to rights, beating the dust out of ancient rugs, cleaning windows and polishing the house's motley collection of furniture till it shone. She was keen to see what she could discover for Henry, and cleaning the place gave her the perfect excuse to nose around without attracting suspicion.