A Gown of Thorns by Natalie Meg Evans

Author:Natalie Meg Evans
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Mystery, Historical, 20th Century, French, Thriller & Suspense, Romance, British, Historical Fiction, Military, Genre Fiction, Literature & Fiction
ISBN: 9781786810113
Publisher: Bookouture
Published: 2016-03-30T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Laurent had described grape picking as ‘the hardest physical work of your life’ and he hadn’t been joking. He’d given Shauna scissors and a bucket and, along with the other vendangeurs who were new to the work, a swift lesson in technique. He spoke clearly and slowly.

‘Only pick the healthy grapes. Rotten ones can change the character of a whole vat of wine. You work in pairs, one each side of the vine. Don’t swap rows and don’t leave the vine until it is picked clean. On no account do you ever put your scissors in a bucket. If they fall in among the grapes, they can wreck the press. Cut the grapes so that they fall into your bucket, not to the ground. If you need water, shout for these two’ He indicated Olive and Nico. ‘Any questions? No? On y va! We stop for a break in two hours.’ He touched Shauna’s arm, his good humour mended. ‘I’ll be your tutor. Come on.’

Workers fanned out among the rows. Some bent to their toil, others kneeled to work. The hutte carriers walked up and down, calling ‘Panier, panier!’ meaning, ‘baskets to fill!’ Nico and Olive ran about tirelessly, emptying for the pickers, replacing their buckets and offering water like stewards at a road marathon. They appeared unaffected by the shimmering heat. Shauna took a moment to wipe her scissors, already sticky from grape sugar, and watched one of the hutte men emptying his load into the trailer. He was shirtless, his mahogany torso testimony to a season of vineyard labour.

‘That was my job from age thirteen to twenty-one,’ Laurent told her.

Why he too had such broad, well-developed shoulders, she supposed. She and Laurent worked side by side until the first water break, by which time she’d got the hang of shearing clusters in one decisive clip, shifting her bucket along as she reached for the next bunch.

Watching her for a minute or two, Laurent nodded approval. ‘You seem competent already, so this is au revoir.’ He patted Shauna’s cheek, leaving it sticky. Which, he told her when she complained, augured well for the quality of the wine. ‘I have to go and feed the press now, check that everything is going right in the chai. Feeling OK?’

‘Fine,’ she muttered, though actually her knees and calves ached savagely. The vineyard was on quite a steep slope and the slow crab-walk she’d adopted was working muscles she’d never been aware of having. She’d been bitten too, by midges and heaven knew what else. She’d chosen a long cotton dress and leggings today, thinking the outfit would keep off the sun and the biters. But though she’d doused herself in repellent, something had found its way in. As for her dress, it was too long and she kept stepping on it. Twice she’d sprawled on top of her grape bucket. A blister was forming on the inside of her finger where her scissors chafed. Two more two-hour stints to go, she reminded herself.

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