The Quilt (25 page)

Mari
winked and rolled her eyes at her husband.

“Let me finish
will you, woman?  Or I will forget to explain exactly why we eventually arrived in this particular place.” 

Sid shook his head
and finished his explanation.

“The i
sland is surrounded by sea breezes.  It is protected from the prevailing cold, wet winds.  So it is drier and warmer than, say, Auckland city.  The ocean is like a fan, it keeps the temperature perfect for the vines.”

 
Sid checked again that Paul remained attentive.

“
The small land mass and long coastline help stop the extremes in temperature.  The mild growing season means that we can ripen a variety of grapes for a long season.”

“Let me kn
ow if you have any questions.  Mari is right, we had better head over to the vineyard or the day will be gone.”

They travelled up a narrow road with wide, manicured verges on either side.  Sid stopped the car just before a sweeping gravel drive that appeared to be formed out of a fine, off-white stone.    Rows of vines fell away on either side of the driveway creating an elegant and inviting entrance.

“You know you
won’t get rich if you only concentrate on the wine, don’t you? It is labour intensive, actually, damned hard work; even the fruit is harvested by hand.”

Without waiting for Paul to respond
, he continued.

“By the looks you are not shy of hard w
ork.  But this venture not only needs physical input but also imagination and development to realize its potential.”

The impressive drive ended in a large circular parking area directly in front of the restaurant.  Its huge wooden doors were hinged with what looked to be cast iron and were flanked by barrels overflowing with red geranium.  To the right was a huge concrete structure surrounded by an expanse of soft lawn that appeared to have been formed into an amphitheatre. 

“That is a
n outdoor pizza oven.  We had it specially imported along with various pieces of furniture for the house.  The area in front of it is man-made.  It was formed for the acoustic quality.  We had intended to host concerts and create an area of informal outdoor dining. It has never been utilized, but that is another option for the new owner to explore.”

A heavy
, wooden framed pergola covered in purple bougainvillea formed a walkway between the exterior of the restaurant and another long rectangular building.  The floor of the walkway was made of cobbles and several wooden doors were visible on either side. 

To the left
, there was a separate entrance screened by a long stone wall.  Very little of the main house was visible and thoughtful planning had clearly defined the area for privacy. 

Sid cleared his throat before speaking
.

“The boundaries are quite clear.  The road and cliff edge obviously form
the front and back.  There is a track down to the beach but it is overgrown so you might struggle.  The side boundaries are also easy to follow.  Marinella is a large rectangle.  The neighbours both farm deer so the fencing is obvious.”

“I’ll unlock all of the doors and then if you don’t mind we will get on with some work.  Take your time and if you
have any questions we will either be in the house or the barrel room.”

Paul wandered around the perimeter of the amphitheatre.  The outer bank rose in the shape of a horse shoe
, forming a hollow in the centre.  The pizza oven was situated close to the restaurant.  The structure was solid with a huge cavernous mouth constructed in fire bricks. 

Paul could see Mari was in the restaurant so he made his way across
the car park and through the stone wall that formed the entrance to the house.   The impressive double entrance doors were the same for all of the buildings on the vineyard.  The hinges and handles appeared to be forged out of iron and probably individually made by a blacksmith.  The doors themselves were constructed in heavy, thick planks of hardwood. A pergola reached over the exterior entranceway, dripping with purple bougainvillea and flanked by barrels spewing blood-red geranium.  The effect was even more dramatic than the photographs had indicated.

The
doors swung open revealing high ceilings, pale terracotta walls and clay-coloured tile floors.  The entrance flowed directly into a spacious lounge area with huge glass windows opening on to a large, rectangular inground pool.  A flat expanse of lawn ran from pool to the cliff edge that gave way to the harbour below.

A
stone fireplace dominated one side of the room.  In front, sat a large overstuffed red leather suite and above the massive hearth was a wooden framed picture showing a typical Italian street scene with garden boxes and flowers picking up the reds and terracottas of the room.

The kitchen was separated by a marble breakfast bar that continued around the work area bench.  Pau
l walked through the other areas of the house admiring the large bedrooms, Italian-inspired bathrooms and views over the gulf.

Whoever had designed this house had taken a small piece
of Tuscany and placed it on Waiheke Island.  Strategic plantings surrounded the house and ran down to the edge of the cliff.  This provided privacy from the lawn in front of the restaurant.  He walked around the vineyard, citrus orchard and olive grove.  It had obviously been well maintained despite Sid and Mari absence from the property.

The café and
alfresco dining area were cavernous and felt unfinished.   There was no furniture, tables or seating.   Noise echoed and the bare walls gave an impression of abandonment.  He walked through the swing doors into the commercial kitchen.  The entire area appeared unused with spotless shining stainless steel benches, huge double sinks; another brick based pizza oven and appliances that looked more suited to a showroom than a functional restaurant.

He
walked out of a side door and under the pergola that ran between the restaurant and the barrel room.  The barrel room was larger than Paul had expected and had a cool, sterile stillness.  Barrels lined the walls and each had a plaque inscribed with numbers and references. Several monitors indicating temperature and moisture were positioned around the room. The flooring was brick and continued on to the tasting room that could be accessed by a large interior door.

This room
was long, stark and rectangular.  Its heavy double front doors opened on to the car park area and the pergola above gave a similar visual entry as the main house. A series of uniform, built in glass cabinet’s contained several bottles of red wine along with some wine making books, brochures and literature from Italy.  These were obviously only for display purposes.  The remainder of the walls were lined with racks containing bottles ready for purchase.  A cash register sat unused on a long rustic wooden bench near the exit door.

Paul glanced through the doors of the utility buildings that were situated furthest
away from the public parking.  They contained large stainless steel vats and, what appeared to be, mechanical presses.  There was an area containing bottles and several notices outlining hygiene and safety procedures.  The exterior of this building was fashioned in the same style as the restaurant, barrel room and tasting room.  However, the interior was clinical, with polished white and stainless surfaces and low maintenance, glossy floors.

Paul walked to the edge of the cliff and pushed through the low shrubs that formed a soft barrier. 
The track was hard to locate, overgrown and obviously unused for several years. It was slippery and steep but with careful negotiation he found it led down to a tiny stretch of coarse white sand. 

At each end of the little beach were steep rocky outcrops
jutting into the harbour.  At one end sat a small crumbling boatshed with tracks running from its lopsided door to the water, pointing like fingers towards the bay.

No
doubt it was leftover from a time when families spent holidays fishing and swimming close by.  He walked around the rocks that had been exposed by an outgoing tide and found another longer shelly beach with a similar boatshed covered in newly applied white and blue paint.

It was tempting to continue exploring the foreshore but a quick glance at his watch told Paul he was alre
ady too late to catch the ferry back to the mainland.

He found Sid holding a crescent in his hand and staring dismally at the pool pump.

“Why we put in a pool I have no idea. 
We don’t have children to enjoy it and the pump is constantly in need of repairs.  Do you have children Paul?”

Paul shook his head and stepped forward
to take the crescent from Sid.  He knelt down and began working on the offending pump.

“Don’t leave it too late.  I mean
to have children.  Not the pump.”

The last ferry had already sailed by the time Paul had repaired the pump.  They closed and locked the buildings and made their way back to the beach house.

Sid had pointed out the boundaries of each of the two titles
before they left.  The vineyard, all of the buildings, orchards and home were on one title. 

The second
block was of little commercial use.  Access from the road could be put in but most of it was steep and covered in ti tree.  The views were magnificent, despite the land being difficult in contour.  With imagination and a good architect a secluded upmarket home could make it a viable sale option at a later date.

Mari overheard Paul telephoning his father to make sure the
dogs had been fed and exercised.  She caught Sid’s eye.

“Someone has brought that young man up well
.”   Sid nodded.  

Paul contacted the rental car company to extend his contract for another day and tentatively arranged a motel at Palm Beach on the opposite side the island. 

“No
, that is a waste of money! Ring the motel back and cancel.  Regardless of whether or not you are serious about the vineyard there is much more we need to go through before you can say you have really explored the option.  We have plenty of room here or if you would like to stay back up at Marinella it would do the house good to be aired.”

Paul started to protest but Mari interrupted
.

“We have already booked in
to eat at a café-style restaurant.  It isn’t exactly what we had planned for Marinella but it might give you some inspiration.”

The café was filled with character.  It was rustic and had a similar feeling to Marinella.  Soft music played in the background and vines twisted overhead on exposed beams.  Paul glanced around at the tables which were filled with diners.  Most were occupied by middle-aged couples or groups of four.

“Look at the menu.   All t
he food is matched with a wine that is produced here.  Most dinners take their recommendation which is easy marketing and sales for the vineyard.  They offer by the glass which more often than not leads to the customer buying a bottle either for the table or to take home.”

“The
y serve good food.  Of course, ours would have been Italian and would have been better.”

He chuckled and pointed to a tall door leading off from the courtyard.

“That is the tasting room.”

“There are organised bus tours through many of the vineyards including this one.  In the summer there is casual walk in traffic and wine trails.”

“It’s a good idea to not only allow tastings which often sell more than a bottle or two, but also to give information if ther
e are several people or a tour.”

“Make it simple.  Th
e history only needs to be basic and it should be followed by or accompanied by wine.  Educates people and again leads to sales.”

“We had wanted to push the virgin olive o
ils at the same time.  One of the reasons for the organic lime orchard was to introduce an infused oil line.  Garlic and chilli, lime and lemon.” 

“Good marketers make the label
s attractive and all it costs is a little oil and some fresh crusty bread for tastings.”

Sid had become quite animated. 

“It’s a shame when you run out of the time and energy to complete a vision!”

He laughed and leant over to talk to Paul
.

“That pretty young waitress is giving you
a look.”

Paul automatically glanced over and was embarrassed to meet her eyes.
He changed the subject and looked away.

“Why are there roses planted at each end of the vines?”

“It depends on what theory you want to believe.  Legend has it the roses will succumb to disease before the vines.  This gives an advance warning of trouble.  With today’s rootstock it now seems unnecessary.  I personally believe it looks attractive, and is traditional whatever the reason.”

Sid turned the bottle they were drinking away.