Blue Moon #3 (Story of Us Series - Into the Blue) - Sydney Jamesson Page 0,124

the photos over to me, he asks, “What was the award for, Henry?”

Henry tucks it away out of sight. “Viticulture has been my calling. It was acknowledgement of my services to the profession.”

“Really? How wonderful for you,” I declare, filled with curiosity. “Ayden’s quite the wine connoisseur...”

Ayden takes my hand. “Well, I know a good wine when I taste it. And that’s about it.”

“Then what more do you need to know?” Henry says with a typically French outlook. “Good wine relies as much on human intervention as it does on terroir. Finding a wine you like and enjoying it is what matters. You can use fancy labels, claim to be the best, but it’s all a matter of good taste.”

Ayden clears a space on the table, enabling the waiter to place down the most expensive bottle of chilled champagne on the wine list. “I’ll drink to that,” he says almost gleefully, his smile wide, his eyes bright and sparkling with a combination and love and respect.

My heart is so full of joy I can barely speak.

We snack on the cheese and ham platter, toast to the future, the coming together of families and our good fortune. I take a single sip and pour my champagne into Ayden’s glass, rest my chin on my upturned palm and relish the sight of these two grown men chatting and laughing together as if they had known each other forever.

What a special day this has turned out to be; one that we will look back on with fondness—a day that Ayden and I will tell our children about.

WE’RE ON OUR WAY back to Charles de Gaulle airport after spending just over an hour with my father. The time passed so quickly, but we have made arrangements to meet up again. I’m looking forward to meeting his family—I consider them my family now.

In some ways I feel as if I’ve won the jackpot in some crazy game of chance; I have the woman I love sitting next to me, our children due to enter this world in three months and, to top it all, I have finally met my father—the real deal. Not some overbearing charlatan who has passed himself off as the head of a once highly respected family. His backroom trading and illegal activities have brought the Pierre family name into disrepute—but that’s about to change.

It’s time to restore what it took centuries to establish; not only the family name, but its reputation as the birthplace of the finest collection of precious gems in Eastern Europe, going as far back as The Renaissance and Louis XIV.

The pilot already has instructions. I give him the nod and we ascend smoothly in a southerly direction. Beth assumes we are on our way back to Heathrow. We’re not.

The French landscape is a patchwork quilt of emerald and citrine. The occasional farmhouse catches our eye, resembling an island of bricks and mortar in a sea of green. It’s a beautiful spring day with clear skies stretching out as far as the horizon. It’s a good omen, considering what I’m about to do.

Realising we should be over the Chanel by now Beth takes a closer look at the terrain. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” I take her hand in mine and give her a playful wink, even though I know it won’t be enough to satisfy her curiosity.

“Are we paying your mother a visit?” She scans my face for clues.

“No,” I answer cheerfully.

Her face becomes a picture of expectation. “Have you got something to show me?”

“I have.”

“Okay.” She sighs and takes in the view. “What a glorious day. I like your dad. He seems really down to earth.”

I nod in agreement. “Yes. I like him too.”

She wraps her arm around mine. “I could tell. You just hit it off straight away.” Her head rests on my shoulder. “You knew it was him the minute he walked in, and he saw your mother in you. It was beautiful to watch, Ayden.”

I turn and kiss her hair, filling my nostrils with the scent of wild flowers and berries. “I wanted you to be there, for us to share the moment. His family are a part of our family now.”

“Yes. Isn’t that great?”

“I think so…” I spot a familiar landmark. “Look at me, Beth. Don’t look down.” Our eyes meet. With her laidback style and unassuming beauty, she personifies Mother Nature—she’s exquisite.

The chopper lands on a small plot of grass next to a patch of trees, behind which is a river.