I carried on, setting the tray down on the bench in the centre of the vineyard and shouted, ‘Tea time!’

Roger appeared first, wearing a waterproof jacket and walking boots. He strode towards me, tapping his notebook.

‘There’s a big variation within the Pinot Meunier vines,’ he said, pointing out the range of numbers written on the page. ‘The top corner has definitely benefited from being sheltered by the wall; the readings are much higher there than, say, the lower section, over here.’ He wafted an arm towards the middle of the vines.

I studied the readings while he spooned sugar into a mug of tea.

‘This is my favourite time of year at the vineyard,’ said Pippa, arriving next, full of smiles. Her hair was tousled from the wind, her cheeks were rosy and with her thigh-length cable-knit jumper over a long floral skirt and tan ankle boots, she looked like a model for Burberry. ‘Ooh, tea; excellent.’

She helped herself and handed me the readings she’d taken from the Pinot Noir. I scanned the numbers.

‘Not bad, are they?’ she said, dunking a biscuit. ‘I’m sure we harvested at lower sugar levels than those last year?’

I nodded. ‘So that gives us a starting point; we pick the Pinot Noir before the Pinot Meunier.’

Godfrey, who’d been working at the very bottom of the vineyard, came into view, wheezing uphill towards us from the lowest parcel of Chardonnay vines. Wisps of his white hair were escaping from under his hat just above his ears and his face was pink from the wind.

I had his tea ready to hand him by the time he reached us. ‘I’d say the Chardonnay could do with another week,’ he said breathlessly. ‘A bit more sunshine would make all the difference.’

‘If we get any more sun,’ said Roger. He pulled at the zip at the front of his jacket, frowning at the sky, which was looking as grey as my mood this afternoon. ‘This weather is getting a bit too cool for my liking.’

I plucked a red grape off the nearest vine, popped it into my mouth and chewed thoughtfully. The taste was sharp but definitely sweeter than it had been only a week ago. ‘Okay, I’ll go and look at the long-range weather forecast and if it looks dry enough, how about we plan to start picking from next Monday at noon?’

‘The first of October,’ Godfrey nodded. ‘Sounds like the perfect day to me.’