Some of the older bottles are from 1943, made from grapes that were harvested at the beginning of World War Two. It is being kept for its historical value.”
“Why are all the bottles so dusty and moldy?” a young woman asked, looking horrified. “Can’t you get someone down here to clean them?”
“We don’t clean them,” Lillian replied, “because we want to keep them still so that the sediment doesn’t move around inside the bottle. That would affect the flavor. But when it’s time to open a bottle, we clean it up and put a clean label on it so it’s just like new.”
She finished the tour and led the group up another circular stone staircase to a medieval-style tasting room. Lillian presented three bottles of different red wines from the collections, described each one, poured a glass for each member of the group, and taught them how to swirl the wine, look at it and identify the “legs,” then stick their noses into the glass and attempt to describe the aromas and flavors. She did not sample the wines herself. She had done that during her training, but Mr. Clark sipped the wines while he listened to everyone’s comments and reactions.
After the final bottle was emptied and the guests began to socialize, Mr. Clark discreetly left the room through the side door. Lillian exhaled heavily, thankful to have made it through his impromptu performance review.
Later, after she sold a few cases of wine in the gift shop and said good-bye to each member of the group, she balanced the cash register, tidied up, and prepared to close the shop for the day. She was just about to leave when Mr. Clark entered through a door at the back.
“Well done today,” he said, causing her to jump. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“You didn’t. I mean . . . yes, you did, but it’s fine.”
He approached the counter, and Lillian slung her purse over her shoulder.
“I appreciate you coming,” she said, “although I will be the first to admit that you made me a little nervous.”
“It didn’t show. You did well. Have you been all right since the accident?”
“Yes,” she replied. “And Freddie’s fine too. We were just a bit stiff and achy for a few days.”
He watched her move out from behind the counter. “And is the guest suite working out for you?” he asked. “Do you have everything you need?”
“Yes. It’s more than we could ever ask for. Thank you so much for letting us stay there and for what you did for us that day.”
“I was happy to help. And the car’s working out fine?”
“Good golly, yes. Freddie’s absolutely thrilled and driving all over Tuscany, writing up a storm.”
“Writing?”
She wished suddenly that she hadn’t said that. She didn’t want to bore Mr. Clark with details about her personal life. “Yes, it’s why we’re here,” she explained. “So that he can finish a novel he’s been working on. It’s set in Tuscany.”
“A novel. Interesting,” Mr. Clark said. “I had no idea he was a writer. Does he have a publisher?”
“Not yet,” she replied, “but he’s working on that, waiting to hear back from a couple of agents who requested the full manuscript. He just needs to finish it so that he can send it to them.”
“Good luck to him.”
“Thank you.”
They stood on the carpet in the middle of the gift shop for a few seconds.
“Do you have to go back now?” Mr. Clark asked. “Is he waiting for you?”
Slightly unnerved by the question, Lillian inclined her head. “Um . . . no. Freddie went to Siena for the day. He probably won’t be home until after dark. Why?”
Mr. Clark studied her face. “Because I’d like to show you a few things that we could add to the tour narrative. Maybe tailor it to the Americans. You’re from Florida, correct?”
“Yes,” she replied, “but from Chicago originally.”
“Even better. Do you have some time right now to learn a bit more about wine?”
She pursed her lips. “Will this involve drinking it? Because I’m still on the clock.” She tapped a finger on her watch. “I’m not sure if the boss would approve.”
A slow grin played at the corners of his mouth. “I can have a word with him if he complains. Maybe pull a few strings.”
Lillian laughed. “In that case, I’m always eager to learn.”
“Right then,” he replied with enthusiasm and a strong clap of his hands. “Let’s start in the vineyard.”