‘Mia, Mia!’ Paolo shouted from upstairs.
‘Tutto bene?’ she called, with a frown.
‘Vieni presto,’ he replied, his plaster cast clunking down the stairs. The pool would have to wait as I followed Mia towards him. I could tell by his tone there was a serious problem.
‘What’s wrong?’ I asked.
‘The heatwave is on its way and it’s worse than we thought,’ Paolo said, panicked. ‘The Vendemmia can’t wait till next week; we have to start today, to save the grapes.’
‘Oh no!’ I said, looking at the vast field full of vines in alarm, as the sun burned down. There were a lot of grapes to get in.
‘How much time do we have?’ Mia shouted, frantic.
‘Not much. Twenty-four hours if we’re lucky. Tony and Viola have already started. The extra staff aren’t booked until Monday, and I’m no use to anyone. Mia,amore mio, can you help them?’
‘Of course I can,’ she said.
Paolo looked at her, worried. ‘I don’t really want you out in the heat, but I don’t know what else to do.’
‘I’ll be fine, don’t fuss,’ Mia said, kissing him on the cheek.
‘I can help too,’ I said, guzzling down half a litre of water. ‘Just point me at whatever needs doing and I’ll do my best.’
Paolo exhaled, looking visibly relieved. I wasn’t entirely sure what I’d signed up for, but I wanted to help. Hopefully they wouldn’t put me in a barrel to squelch the grapes with my bare feet. I’d only just had a pedicure.
‘Tony is over there,’ Paolo said, pointing to the back of the field. ‘Take a basket and some grape scissors and he’ll show you what to do.’
‘Can I have a quick shower first?’ I asked. Paolo looked like he might cry. ‘OK, no time for that – I’ll have one later. Let me change into something more work-friendly and grab my hat. Don’t worry, Paolo, we’ll get it done!’ I was covered in sweat and my floppy hat would not work for hardcore manual labour. I ran upstairs, threw on a maxi dress and trainers and plaited my hair under a baseball cap. The air con brought me back to human temperature and I felt like myself again. I could easily do a few hours in the fields, no problem.
I could see Tony and Viola from my window, beavering away. Farmer Tony in control of the situation. He’d changed out of his jeans and was now in a vest and shorts combo, like a man of the soil. I left the cool of my bedroom into one level of heat in the farmhouse, and then outside to next-level stifling. My calm self, a hot mess once more. It was like climbing into an oven. I needed to stay hydrated and in the shadows.
‘Grazie mille, Abi,’ Paolo said, from his chair, as I walked down the steps. He handed me a wicker basket and four bottles of water.
‘No problem, Paolo, I’ll do my best!’ I said, taking the basket, which weighed a tonne, and walking through the field to Tony. Viola and Mia were already on it, snipping away in a frenzy.
‘Mason, reporting for duty, sir,’ I said, with a salute.
Tony took the water from me and handed it out. ‘OK, well it’s pretty simple. We need to get all the grapes off the vines asap,’ he said. ‘There’s no science to it, just snip them at the stem and toss them in your basket.’ He grabbed a nearby bunch of grapes and cut them down. ‘Like this.’
‘Snip and toss.’ I nodded and did an air snip with my scissors. ‘Fully understood, sir.’
‘Snip and toss,’ he repeated, a twinkle in his eye.
Viola already had half a bucketful and the four of us worked like a swarm of locusts, snipping at speed as the sun went down, to get as many grapes in our baskets as possible. Once the baskets were full, we’d switch them with Tony and keep going. He piled the full baskets onto a gurney and ran them inside, emptying them into what I can only assume was the grape-squishing barrel for my pedicure to deal with later.
‘Here you go, basket number four,’ I said, a couple of hours later.
‘Excellent work, Mason. You keep going like this and there could be a promotion on the cards,’ Tony said, taking it from me.
‘Wow, really?’ I replied. ‘I could be chief-snipper one day.’
‘You sure could. Also, I’ve got a little refresher somewhere for you. Now where is it…’ Tony disappeared behind one of the bushes, rummaging around on the floor. I really hoped it was a Diet Coke. ‘Found it!’ he shouted, popping up with a hosepipe and squirting me with ice-cold water.
‘Whatttt???’ I shrieked and ran down the field. It was absolutely freezing.
‘Paolo said you wanted a shower,’ he hollered after me, spraying as he ran. ‘This will freshen you up.’
‘Stop!!! Turn it OFF… arghhhh!!’ I held up my hands, completely drenched and he turned the hose on himself.
