Page 59 of One Last Thing
‘Yes,’ he says, ‘but not this time.’
We smile at each other, his gaze so intense, I suddenly can’t remember what we’re doing or why we’re here or what I’msupposed to be saying, so I’m relieved when he looks away to study his glass, swirling the wine again and breaking the spell.
Wine tasting. That’s what we’re doing. Right.
‘So, you say this one is sweet and fruity,’ I recall, nodding.
He grins before correcting me. ‘Light and refreshing.’
‘Exactly. That’s what I . . . that’s what I mean. Light and refreshing.’ I lift the glass to my lips and take a sip before holding it up triumphantly. ‘Oh yeah, that’s a winner.’
I can tell from his expression he finds my description amusing. ‘Yeah?’
‘It’s my favourite,’ I confirm. ‘It reminds me of here, actually.’
‘The chateau?’ he checks.
‘Yeah. The feeling of being here.’ I grimace. ‘Sorry, I’m shit at this.’
‘No, you’re not,’ he insists. ‘Tasting wine is about perception. Feelings, things it reminds you of –all that comes into it. Explain to me why you think this is, for you, a feeling of being here at the chateau.’
‘I don’t know. It’s the lightness, maybe. How things feel distant here. Reality, I mean. You can let go and . . . everything is okay for a bit.’ I scrunch up my eyes, cringing at myself. ‘God, sorry, I sound like such a wanker.’
He chuckles. ‘No, Megan—’
‘I do. That was terrible. If I heard someone say something like that I would think they were a complete and utter wanker.’ Laughing, I pick up my glass again and finish off the contents. ‘Blame it on the rosé.’
‘I think what you were saying was right. Coming here, for you, is an escape. And that is what you associate with this wine. With the feeling you get when you’re here. The feeling of slowing down and escaping.’
I stare at him, impressed. ‘Wow. Yeah, that was . . . hey, you made me sound poetic.’
He shrugs. ‘You said it.’
‘I said nothing like that. You see? This is why I shouldn’t be a writer. Please don’t ask me to describe how the wine makes me feel again.’
‘If you don’t like it, then I won’t. But thanks to you, we have our chosen wine for the ball. What better bottle to offer than one that provides an escape to our guests? As you say, this is a winner.’
‘I’m glad I helped. Any future wine problems, I’m your girl.’
‘Looks like it. Speaking of wine, shall I top you up?’ Nico offers, reaching for the bottle.
‘Yeah, if we’re done tasting. I’m ready for a proper glass. If you have time to join me? You probably have things you need to be getting on with. Please don’t feel like you have to stay—’
‘I want to,’ he says simply, pouring the wine out for both of us. ‘I can have a break.’
‘Do you get many of those? I know running this place is a full-time job.’
He nods, putting the bottle away. ‘But I’ve told you, I love it.’
‘Did you work here for a long time before taking it over?’ I ask, reaching forwards for my glass and doing that sophisticated swirling thing again.
‘Yes, they weren’t going to let me run it until I’d proven I was capable,’ he says, raising his eyebrows. ‘When they invited me to come work here, I didn’t realise they were hoping to let me run the place myself eventually. I hoped it was so, but I didn’t know.’
‘But you gave up your publishing job and came anyway,’ I say, taking a sip.
‘Yes. I started with a reception job. My girlfriend thought I was stupid.’
The rosé goes down the wrong way and I splutter and cough, putting the glass down and reaching for my glass of chilled water.
