‘Of course, shall we?’ Lily gestured for the small group to head back up towards the estate, and Henry reluctantly followed. He’d forgotten how … alive it felt out amongst the vines. Vines that, even if not his, not really, filled him with a sense of industry that could be touched, grown, harvested. It occurred to him then that there might be similarities with developing a final product from the seeds of an idea, nurturing it to its full potential, weeding out the kinks in the codes, supplying a demand that either was present or could be created within a customer … but there was no comparison. It was sterile. Cold. Ones and zeros on a coding screen, in development or in the bank. But being out here, smelling the salt on the air, the heat of the sun on his skin, it felt like …

He shut down his thought process before he could say the word. The one that taunted him late at night. The one that had, until now, really only been significant in its absence. In his exile from it. The sooner he was done with this place, the better.

But as he followed Lily, still reeling off information about the estate, he realized that she was in her element. She had the same look of pride and joy about her that his father used to get. It was the way she was in the kitchen. Confident and assured. Her eyes were bright and she glowed in the midday sun. He realized for the first time that the dress she wore – while not showy or revealing – swirled around her long legs, and clung to her frame. And he could no longer deny that he was attracted to her. That she called to him like a siren. And if he wasn’t careful, he’d dash his whole damn life on the rocks for her.

They entered the estate through the door beside the orangery and suddenly Henry knew where they were going. Instead of peeling off towards the barn where the distillery was, Lily led them to the wine cellar.

Dark shadowy stone stairs were illuminated by dim ochre-coloured lighting. The temperature was cool against his heated skin – the sudden drop bringing out goosebumps on his skin.

‘So here we have the true heart of the winery,’ Lily said, bringing the group into the large cavernous space that stretched beneath the entire estate.

Frowning, Henry looked around, orientating himself against the changes since he’d last been down here. He could have sworn that there were more rooms shooting off the central area now. It was clean and dry, no sense of the damp he’d remembered from his childhood.

‘For years, this had been used for the estate’s storage – the machines and other equipment needed when it was a working farm – but the farming petered out some time in the Sixties.’

‘Sixty-eight,’ Henry supplied.