Some of the hired hands, men and women who temporarily worked at many farms, offering manual labour, were grateful just to have food in their bellies. The Lambrianus were good employers who paid good wages. They were a reputable family, and had worked hard all their lives. They knew the meaning of giving their workers a good meal in their bellies, and money to pay the rent. Some of the workers were regulars who came back year after year.
Annette had watched Carlos in the hot midday Italian sun, strutting around and flirting with the young women who were working there. He also laughed and joked with the older women. He was a charmer and everyone liked him. Annette certainly liked what she saw. Tanned from the sun, and wearing only shorts and a white vest, stained from all the red grapes he had picked, he would flex his strong, muscled arms, knowing that the women at the vineyard were watching him. He was vain and proud, but as poor as a church mouse.
Carlos had noticed Annette hanging around, her long blonde hair swinging around her shoulders making her stand out from the rest. He had watched her serving the wine and glancing in his direction.
‘You English, sì?’ he had asked her one day, daring to speak to the boss’s wife and at the same time breaking the ice with an innocent question.
‘Yes, I’m from London,’ she had said, and blushed.
He had laughed with her and the others at the tables, calling her the ‘queen’, because only the queen lived in London, and here she was serving the wine.
Carlos had flirted with her, and she with him, whenever possible, although she always ignored him when her husband or the foreman were around, and especially when Miriam’s eyes followed her like a hawk.
Annette hated her mother-in-law and resented the way she monopolised Antonias. She had to admit that, in some respects, Miriam was a good woman who wanted the best for her family, but Annette wanted more than just to be a wife and mother, buried in the back of beyond.
She wanted to go to Naples and Rome and enjoy the clubs and the nightlife Italy had to offer. Annette had expected married life to be so different.
She had met Marias on holiday, and it had been such a whirlwind romance she had decided to stay longer. Seeing the vineyard in all its glory, and realising the wealth it carried with it, had made it seem too good an opportunity to miss.
Marias worked the vines all day, and when they were able to go out, they did, but then Antonias came along and everything changed.
Annette had been expected to drop into a family routine of looking after little Antonias, and having more children to follow him. But she had soon grown bored with it all.
It didn’t matter that Marias told her that one day Antonias would be a rich man and inherit everything; Annette wanted her share now.
It was actually Miriam’s vineyard, and it hadn’t always been a vineyard. It had once been a farm, but during Miriam and Fredo’s married life, the farm had started doing badly. They had one bad crop after another, yet the bills still had to be paid. There was a living in it, but not much of one.
Fredo made wine for a hobby, using the grapes on their land. And so, to pass the time, he made a small number of bottles for himself, plus some he shared with friends.
His friends had enjoyed the wine and praised it; it had a taste all of its own. When word spread about this local winemaker, the owner of a small nearby restaurant had come to taste ‘Fredo’s wine’, and liked it.
He had taken half a dozen bottles on sale or return. It had surprised them both that the bottles had sold and the wine was popular.
More orders were put in, and soon Fredo was taking on extra help to pick his grapes. Eventually, they decided to give up on the farm and to grow more grapes, instead.
Fredo had found his niche and he was starting to make more money out of the wine than he ever had, living hand to mouth from the farm.
The hot Italian sun made the grapes grow full and large, and Fredo knew just when to pick them, when they were at their best.
Fredo and his best friend, Alfonso, whom he had known since childhood, picked the grapes together, after Alfonso’s farm fell on hard times and drained all of his funds. Fredo moved Alfonso and his family in with them, and gave him money to help pay off some of the debts he owed.
Alfonso had spoken many times of a cousin who lived on the other side of Italy. He was starting an import and export business and wanted Alfonso and his family to join him, but they couldn’t afford to go.
Alfonso was a good and trusted friend and after Fredo and Miriam had talked things through together, they felt they should help him.
Fredo had given Alfonso the equivalent of 500 pounds, a lot of money at that time, but the wine sales were taking off.
He had been sad to see his childhood friend leave, but had wished him well in his new venture.
‘I will pay you back, Fredo, every penny of this, I promise, someday I will pay you back for your kindness.’
‘We are friends, Alfonso, I do not want your money, only your friendship. There is no debt,’ said Fredo.
They had hugged each other, Fredo knowing that he would probably never see Alfonso again.
Shortly after Alfonso had left, the owner of a large restaurant in the city had come to taste Fredo’s wine and had liked it very much. They offered Fredo a regular contract but had written on the contract that they wished to purchase ‘Lambrianu Vineyard wine’, rather than ‘Fredo’s wine’.
Fredo and Miriam had both agreed that, while it would always be known as ‘Fredo’s wine’ to them, their surname did give the wine more class, and would be easier to sell, and so ‘Lambrianu Vineyard wine’ was born.
Their own son, Marias, had started working with his father as a young boy, and had learnt how and when to pick the grapes. He had seen the operation grow into a sizeable business. Fredo had taken a huge loan out, using the farmland and the house as collateral, and had used the money to pay for sterilising equipment, bottles and labelling.
But it had all been worth it. The vineyard had more orders than it could cope with and Fredo bought up nearby farmland, to plant more grapevines. It was all a great success.
Marias didn’t need to work the vines with his father, but they both still enjoyed it. Life was good for the Lambrianu family.
Then Marias had met Annette when she was visiting Italy, and had instantly fallen in love with her. Her pale skin and long blonde hair had bewitched him. He had taken her home to meet his parents and visit the vineyard, and when he had asked her to stay in Italy and marry him, she had agreed.
Annette had seemed to enjoy playing the lady of the manor and receiving beautiful jewellery from her husband, but then she’d had Antonias and things had started to go wrong.
Miriam was obsessed with her blond-haired, blue-eyed grandson. And Annette began to resent the way Miriam lavished money on him, when he didn’t need it.
Marias was always busy with business meetings with some client. And Annette simply wasn’t interested in the vineyard. She was young; she wanted to go out dancing the night away. Annette didn’t like the responsibility of a child and his needs, and felt she was far too young to become burdened with motherhood.
And then she had seen Carlos, who eased the boredom. He made her smile again.
Annette had told him tales of life back in London and Big Ben, and elaborated on the truth when she boasted about how many famous people she knew. He seemed impressed, and listened intently.
After several days of talking and mild flirtation, Carlos had taken a napkin full of bread and cheese, walked away from the lunch gathering and gone into one of the nearby fields, to eat his lunch.
