What a strange pair Euan and Flynn were. She had envied them their shared love of Levallier Dell and the wine business and yet now she could see it also drove them apart.

Today, she hoped they would put their differences behind them. The weekend held such promise. Keely glanced down at her long-sleeved shirt, striped with pink, brown and taupe, which she’d put on with the jeans, held up by a wide leather belt. Maggie had suggested she tuck the shirt in to the front of her jeans. It was a style Keely had avoided but when she’d looked in the mirror earlier she’d tried the French tuck and liked it. The soft green jumper she’d brought from home was draped around her shoulders but, with the bright promise of the morning, she knew she wouldn’t need it for long.

She bounced with every step. It was hard to remember the last time she’d felt so happy. At the gate, she paused as a little group of guinea fowl scurried into the garden ahead of her. They were strange birds. Their bodies looked way too big for their tiny heads.

Then she faltered as the reminder that she would return to teaching the next week flicked at the edge of her mind. She took a deep breath and strode through the gate, burying the disturbing thought deep, where it wouldn’t trouble her. If this was to be her last weekend at Levallier Dell, she was determined to enjoy it.

Instead of going to the back door, she walked through the carport so she could have another look at the cellar-door area. Euan’s old Volvo was missing from its spot beside the gleaming new car with the Levallier Dell sign painted on the side. Flynn wouldn’t be happy if his father had disappeared already. It was a pity Euan’s friend Dianna couldn’t have stayed for the weekend. Perhaps that’s why he was so edgy. Maybe he was missing her.

Keely looked at the cartons of wine stacked along the wall between the carport and the cellar door, ready for the sales they hoped to make over the weekend. At one end, the cartons contained bottles of Levallier Dell Sauvignon Blanc. Euan hadn’t been happy about that either. He’d grumbled he barely had enough for his distributors. Flynn assured him it wasn’t for tasting and only available for sale by the bottle. The other wines from the Levallier Dell range sat along the wall and finished with cartons of the Scarecrow Dry White from the Haystack Block.

When she stepped through the door it was like entering another world. Flynn had transformed the cellar door to accommodate the tables and chairs they would need to serve lunch to their customers. He had left the old makeshift bar joined to the main bar, as it had been for his birthday party.