She gripped her hands together and tried to look as if the sudden lurch of the aircraft was something she took in her stride while inside butterflies flapped frantically. When she glanced at Euan he was leaning back with his eyes closed again. She studied his face surreptitiously for a moment. Scarecrow was a good description for him. All he needed was a straw hat. He must have spent a lot of time outside to get all those freckles and the wrinkles.

She pictured him as a series of pencil strokes, then overlaid them with subtle splashes of oranges and browns, building up an abstract image in her mind; something she loved to do when a subject really interested her. His chest rose and fell gently. Keely dug out her notebook and began to sketch.

* * *

Theo walked between the vines on the new block, inspecting the delicate green shoots. He stopped to retie a string to a wire. After three years of teasing, stretching, encouraging, the plants had grown up and along the wires, big enough now that when the first tiny bunches of grapes appeared, they would hang just under the canopy of green leaves.

This year would be the first pick from these semillon vines and he had high hopes for them; the final addition to his River Dynasty range. He had been trying for years to create a wine that reminded him of the assyrtiko wine he’d first learned to make as a young man in Greece. He hoped the lemon-zest flavours from this semillon would be as close to the real thing as he could get, until he could actually acquire the vines from Greece. That was his long-term plan.

It had been a real coup to be able to buy this parcel of land. Especially from right under the nose of his neighbour. The price had been high but it would pay off in the long term. He scribbled a note in his diary and slipped it back into his shirt pocket.

He had done well from this Margaret River property. The Ocean Dynasty property further south was expanding but this land and these vines were Theo’s stronghold. This was where he produced his best wines and where he wanted to keep expanding to consolidate his family’s future. His son thought they were overcommitted but Tony was a worrier. A good return from the current year’s vintage would improve the cash flow.

Theo’s gaze drifted over the vines and the heads of the workers, to the river and the thick bush that divided his vineyard from Levalliers’ next door. He frowned. Euan Levallier was a crazy fool. His land was some of the best in the area. His vines produced liquid gold but Theo couldn’t understand the man, who treated it all as a bit of a hobby.