Page 83 of Somewhere Only We Know

‘Does that mean rain, do you think?’ I pointed my beer towards the clouds.

Jono studied the sky and wrinkled his nose. ‘Maybe. Won’t bother us. The grapes are in safe and sound, rain can only be a good thing from now on, for us at least.’

I nodded, selfishly hoping that the wet weather stayed away for another day until I was safely back in Sydney.

‘Last year was a different story,’ Jono said, grimly. ‘Pierre and I had had a disagreement about harvesting. He wanted to pick, I wanted to leave it another couple of days. And because I was the boss, I got my way. The weather forecast had failed to pick up an electric storm which came in overnight and destroyed a good proportion of our Semillon. Those we did salvage were wet and we had to work fast before rot set in. Pierre didn’t let me forget it. That was probably where the rot set in between him and me too.’

Jono hadn’t told me much about his relationship with Pierre before now and I was curious to know more. ‘Is that when their affair started?’

He shrugged. ‘I don’t know, and I have no intention of finding out. She disliked him at the beginning, complaining that I shouldn’t have employed him, that he was a know-all and was rude to everyone. We even argued about it, can you believe. Somewhere along the line that changed without me noticing. I remember hearing her laughter coming from the winery and, when I went inside, he had his arms around her, supposedly helping her pull a cork from a bottle. When I challenged them, she admitted it straight away and said she couldn’t help herself. I sacked him on the spot and told him to get off my property. Twenty-four hours later she’d gone too. Without a word, no explanation, or apology, nothing. I stumbled through those first few weeks not knowing which way was up. I was so shocked that I didn’t know how to feel, then came the feelings of hurt and anger about what she’d done to me. But above all else I was furious about the way she’d disappeared into the sunset without a backward glance at Daisy.’

‘I’m sorry you had to go through that,’ I said, taking a step closer so that my arm touched his.

‘It makes you think, you never know what’s around the corner, do you? Your life can change in a fraction of a second. One minute you think you have it all figured out. The next you’re right back at the bottom of the ladder.’

I’d said more or less the same thing to Daisy this morning and I felt a twinge of guilt for keeping a secret from him.

‘You don’t have to tell me that,’ I replied. ‘Mine changed when a police officer rang my doorbell and informed me my beautiful girl had gone forever.’

He put his arm around my shoulders and gave my arm a rub. ‘Of course, sorry.’

I allowed myself to relax against him. I could get used to this, I thought, having another adult to lean on, particularly one as kind and attractive as Jono.

‘I blame myself,’ he said, clearly still thinking about Andrea. ‘Looking back, I could have paid her more attention. I was always so busy with the business that I neglected us. I talked about “when” a lot, promising that things would be different “when”, like when Daisy was older, or when bottling was finished, or when we’d got more staff to help. Eventually she got tired of waiting.’

It was hard to listen to him beating himself up without leaping to his defence. I wanted to point out that it takes two to make a marriage work, and that if Andrea hadn’t wanted to put in any effort to keep their love alive, then she deserved as much blame as him.

‘Do you still love her?’ I asked.

He pondered the question for a few seconds and shook his head. ‘I’ll never take her back.’

Which didn’t answer the question. I suspected that he was still conflicted in his feelings towards her. Which meant that he wasn’t ready to start a new relationship. Not that he’d ever suggested he was, I mused, hoping that my thoughts weren’t written on my face.

He looked at his watch. ‘I’m surprised Daisy hasn’t been in touch yet.’

‘You haven’t heard from her today?’

‘Nope.’ He took out his phone and double-checked. ‘Nothing.’

Oh Daisy, I thought, groaning inwardly. Why had she not texted him as she’d promised?

‘I’m sure she’s fine,’ I said. ‘She’s a sensible girl.’

‘I guess,’ he muttered. ‘But do parents ever stop worrying about their kids?’

‘Of course not.’ Even now, I’d probably never stop worrying about Brontë. I could conjure up an event from long ago and worry about that, even though there was nothing I could do to change it. ‘Shall I text her and see where she is?’

I was beginning to get worried about Daisy, and annoyed with myself for agreeing to her plan. What if something had happened to her? What if Andrea hadn’t been able to meet her after all, or she’d had trouble with the trains? The thought of her being out of her depth in Sydney and too worried to let her dad know where she was made me feel sick.

‘You have her number?’

I nodded and his face softened.

‘It’s okay, Maggie. I’ll ring her. But thanks. It’s been good for her having you here. She’s missed a woman around the place. I do my best to be both parents, and I’ll try to discuss any topic with her, but there are some things – periods, for example – that she point-blank won’t talk about. And I know my eyes glaze over when she talks about clothes. I’m a jeans and T-shirt man; I can’t get into fashion.’

He didn’t need to get into fashion when he looked so hot in jeans, I mused. I gave myself a shake, recalling how he wouldn’t be drawn on whether he still loved Andrea or not.

‘I know it’s a touchy subject,’ I said, ‘but maybe the best person for Daisy to speak to about that sort of stuff might be her mum. Is there a way the two of them can rekindle their relationship? Even regular phone calls might help.’