‘Just trying to keep morale up,’ he laughed.
‘And doing a great job of it, sir,’ I retorted, water dripping off my nose.
Mosquitos and their tiny bug friends ran at the four of us the whole time and I was glad I’d covered myself in rainforest-proof jungle spray. The grapes were small and grubby and hard to spot, camouflaged in among the leaves. As the self-titledVine Invader, it was satisfying to hunt each bunch down and clip them out, saving them from a raisin-like death. My skin was sticky with juice and my feet felt tight and sweaty in my trainers as the hours went on, but I pushed through the discomfort.
‘You all OK?’ Tony called.
Viola looked like she was about to keel over and Mia was pale as a sheet. We’d done about six buckets of grapes each and had covered nearly half the vineyard between us. The sun was slipping over the horizon, taking the light with it, so we’d have to call it a day soon.
‘I think we’ve done pretty well! We make a good team,’ I said, desperate for a drink.
‘We can do the rest in the morning,’ Mia said. ‘We’ve done enough for today.’ We finished off the row we were clipping, then bundled our baskets onto the trolley, and made our way back to the farmhouse where Paolo had somehow laid out a table with water and glasses. He hopped up to greet us with tears in his eyes.
‘Grazie, tutti, and thank you especially, Abi,’ he said, gesturing at the table. ‘Please. Sit. Let me get you all a drink.’
‘I’ll get them, hop-along; sit down and rest your leg,’ Tony said, helping Paolo back to his chair. I could see Tony’s body through his T-shirt, like a marble sculpture, with muscles on top of muscles. He wiped his brow and went into the house. The heat and endeavour had sent us all a bit delirious, and we each sat and stared into space in a silent daze. I looked out at the vineyard, half-stripped of its wares, the haze of another hot summer’s day hanging low in the air. It felt as close now as it had when we were stringing fans together at lunchtime. The whole day had been relentless.
‘How long until the heatwave hits?’ I asked.
Paolo fidgeted next to me, poking a biro inside his plaster cast to scratch his leg. ‘The wildfires are already in central Greece, so it could be any day now.’
‘The fires could just as easily pass us by,’ Viola said, holding up her hands to the sky in prayer.
‘I hope so,’ Mia said, crossing her fingers.
Paolo winced in satisfaction, as he vigorously scribbled up and down on his leg. He tried to go a little lower and lost his grip. ‘Pffft.’
‘Here we go, workers!’ Tony had a bottle of prosecco and a bottle of Vernaccia, both so cold they were smoking. He offered them up to the table.
‘Novino. I needacqua,’ Viola said, pouring out more water.
Mia shook her head. ‘And I need a bath,’ she said, standing up.
Tony turned to me. ‘Just us then,’ he said, with a smile.
‘And Paolo,’ I said.
‘Niente alcol,’ he said, pointing at his leg. ‘The painkillers are very strong.’
‘Prosecco for me then, please,’ I said, taking a water as well.
‘Excellent choice, ma’am.’ Tony popped the cork and generously filled two glasses.
‘I’ll put that wine back in the fridge,’ Viola said, taking the wine and returning seconds later with an ice bucket for the bubbles.
‘Paolo?’ Mia called from inside. ‘Can you help me with something please?’
‘Lean on me, old man,’ Viola said, helping him hobble up the steps and into the house. Leaving me and Tony and a bottle of prosecco, looking out at the vineyard as the sky turned pink. The sun had completely disappeared, but the skies were flooded with colour.
‘You did pretty good today, Mason.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
‘I was very impressed with your work ethic and attention to detail.’
‘My snipping was to your satisfaction?’
‘The snippiest snipping I ever did see.’ Tony raised his glass and clinked mine, and we both took a long drink. The prosecco was cold, and sweet and delicious.
