‘Excellent,’ I said, ‘because I thought you could head it up, as a Butterworth.’

He opened his mouth as if to argue but his grandmother got in there first.

‘Oh yes, Ted would have loved you to be involved. He always hoped one day you’d take an interest in the wine business and take over from him.’

‘I didn’t know that.’ A shadow passed across Jensen’s face and I guessed he was still feeling guilty about not helping Ted out when he’d asked.

‘He didn’t mind, of course, it was only a dream,’ she reassured him. ‘And he was very proud of your career.’

‘Then of course I’ll be there,’ he said, squeezing Betsy’s hand. ‘Lottie and I can discuss dates and details later. But there’s still something we need to sort out: how are we going to finish off Granddad’s wine without his expertise? According to Matt and Clare, the 2017 needs blending and bottling and the 2016 vintage is ready for its dosage.’

‘I think I might have a solution to that,’ I said cautiously.

Jensen grinned at me. ‘Don’t tell me; you googled it and worked out how to do it yourself.’

‘Sort of,’ I said, pulling the old photograph from my pocket. ‘How about asking for help? From Sidney Buxton?’

‘I remember him.’ Jensen took the picture from my hand to examine. ‘It’s Granddad’s old school friend!’

‘Sidney Buxton,’ Marjorie chuckled. ‘Now there’s a blast from the past. Married a French girl and together they took over her father’s vineyard just outside Reims. Why didn’t we think of him before?’

Betsy frowned. ‘He was a regular visitor at one time, and helped Ted no end when he was setting up the vineyard. I’ve not heard from him for a while, although I think he and Ted kept in touch by email.’

‘We invited him to the funeral but he didn’t come,’ said Jensen. ‘I phoned the number in Granddad’s address book myself and left a message on a French answerphone.’

‘He wrote me a lovely condolence card,’ said Betsy, ‘and sent his apologies for not attending.’

‘If Ted were to trust anyone to blend his wines, it would be Sidney,’ said Marjorie. ‘He makes wonderful champagne.’

‘It’s a fabulous idea, Lottie.’ Betsy clapped her hands together. ‘Let’s see if he can spare us some of his expertise. I knew it was a good idea taking you on. Jensen, aren’t we lucky?’

‘It certainly looks that way.’ He smiled and it lit up his whole face and the warm glow it gave me touched my heart.

My happiness lasted all day and it was Jensen’s face I saw as I drifted off to sleep that night. There were lots of things to be happy about with my new job, and Jensen Butterworth was definitely one of them.

Chapter 15