Page 86 of The Missing Sister
‘Ah, one of the many millions of Irish emigrants?’
‘Sadly, yes. We were all looking for a better life elsewhere in those days.’
‘As a matter of fact, I had a couple of chums that went to Trinity College. Were you there, or at University College Dublin?’
‘Trinity. I studied Classics.’
Orlando’s face lit up. ‘Then we may have far more to discuss than wine. Greek philosophy and mythology are great passions of mine, and I sometimes wish I’d pursued them after university.’
‘They were certainly passions of mine too. I lived and breathed Greek myths when I was a child,’ she said.
‘It was my father who fuelled my passion,’ Orlando commented. ‘What about you?’
‘I had a godfather who was a Fellow in Classics at Trinity when I first met him, then went on to become head of the department. Of course, he’s long retired now, and may not even be alive any longer.’
‘You lost contact with him?’ Orlando prompted.
‘Yes, I... well,’ Merry shrugged. ‘You know how it is. Anyway, shall I tell you about how my husband and I started The Vinery?’
‘Please, I’m all ears, dear lady.’
‘Well, Jock and I met when I arrived in New Zealand and we both worked at a hotel called The Hermitage. It’s at the base of Mount Cook on the South Island. I was a waitress there when I met him. He’d started as a waiter, but had already worked his way up to maître d’ and sommelier. Even back then, he had a passion for wine. I’m sorry, I’ve probably gone a bit too far back for your article...’
‘Please, the floor is yours, Merry. Spout forth for as long as you wish, I find it fascinating.’
Star listened intently as the woman talked about how the two of them had married, then how, on a trip out to the Gibbston Valley in Central Otago, they’d come across an old stone ruin of a house, which Merry said had probably been built during the gold rush. They’d fallen in love with it and it had taken years to rebuild.
‘We used to travel down there at weekends and holidays. Jack was only a toddler at the time but we all loved it, and the beauty of our valley, so much that Jock and I eventually decided to put all our savings into establishing a small vineyard there.’
As Merry found her stride, telling Orlando how she and Jock had worked like the devil, bathing in streams until they had been able to build a bathroom, Star let her eyes drop surreptitiously from Merry’s face to her hands, which were small, pale and delicate. One hand came to rest on her lap, and Star saw that the ring was definitely made of emeralds and arranged in a star-shaped design around a diamond. She took a mental photograph of the ring, then stood up.
‘Excuse me, but I must use the bathroom,’ she said as she went out of the sitting room and into the bedroom, closing the door behind her. She ran to her holdall, pulled it onto the bed and ferreted inside the net holder for the envelope containing the drawing of the ring. In the bathroom, with the door firmly locked, Star drew it out and stared at it.
It was identical.
Flushing the toilet, then secreting the envelope in the bedside drawer, she walked back into the sitting room.
‘As for the details on the actual mix of grapes we use now,’ Merry was saying, ‘you need to speak to my son, Jack, who is currently in the Rhône Valley, studying their viticulture and looking for any techniques he can apply to our own vineyard. Otago is famous for its pinot noir, as you know. Let me write down his number.’
As Merry bent to find her mobile in the bag she’d brought with her and Orlando offered her a pen and paper from the hotel pad, Star stared at the ring again, just to make sure.
‘That’s his French mobile. It’s best to call after four p.m. our time.’
‘Thank you very much, Mrs McDougal. I think your story will make the most inspiring article. Just in case I think of any more questions, could you possibly furnish me with your own mobile phone number?’
‘Of course,’ Merry said, adding it to the note.
‘Now, are you sure you won’t have a drink with us?’
‘Ah, go on then, I’ll have a small whiskey,’ Merry agreed.
‘So’ – Star took over as Orlando headed for the mini-bar – ‘how long will you be in London for?’
‘I’m not sure yet, maybe a couple of days, maybe two weeks or two months... Since Jock died and Jack took over The Vinery, I’m as free as a bird. It’s a shame my daughter didn’t join me. She’s never seen Europe before,’ Merry added as she took the whiskey.
‘As they say in Ireland,sláinte!’ toasted Orlando.
‘Sláinte!’ Merry repeated as they clinked glasses.
