The Royal Dream

Chapter 2

Joseph was reading 'An Unlikely Vineyard: The Education of a Farmer and Her Quest for Terroir' by Deirdre Heekin while onboard his father's private jet. He has always been a quick learner. After reading through half of it, he yawned and rang the bell for the attendant.

The attendant came in as soon as she heard the bell, a smile on her pretty face.

"How may I help you sir?" She asked politely. Her blue eyes were almost flirting with her boss' son.

"Can you get me a glass of water please?"

"Certainly, sir" She eyed him coquettishly before taking her leave.

Joseph smiled to himself. He knew he had a charming face and personality. Girls had often checked him out and passed smiles wherever he went. He had hazel-blue eyes and red hair which were neatly combed. He always was dressed impeccably. On this particular day he was wearing a black v-neck t-shirt and blue jeans.

The stewardess came back with a tray carrying the glass and a bottle of water in her hand. She put down the tray before him and opened the bottle. She poured the water and handed the glass to him, her fingers brushing his.

"Thank you." Joseph smiled and revealed deep dimples on both his cheeks.

"Anything else, sir?" She asked.

"No. Just wake me up when we reach Paris." He said.

"Sure, sir."

After she left, Joseph closed the book and put it aside. He then put on his headphone and closed his eyes. The stewardess was still checking him out from her seat in the corner of the aircraft. She couldn't tell if he was asleep or just listening to the music.

Soon they landed and she noticed that he was already up, gathering his belongings. She wondered why this was a one way flight. Did he plan a vacation here? Rich people and their fancy holiday destinations, she mused.

"Have a nice day, sir." She said at the door of the aircraft.

"You too, Margaret." He said while reading her name tag.

Outside the arrival hall, he searched for his name amidst the numerous placards that were held. He saw a tall, burly looking man holding a placard reading his name. He approached him and said, "Hello, it's Joseph."

"Bonjour Monsieur! I am Mark, it's nice to meet you. Let me take you luggage, the car is this way monsieur." He led the way through the crowd to a black sedan parked in the corner of the parking. After they were settled in, he started to pull out of the airport.

"How long will it take to reach Saint Émilion?" Joseph asked.

"Around 5-6 hours, monsieur."

"Oh okay, merci" He replied. It was enough time for him to complete the book and he got right back to it. They had stopped in the mid-way for a break. The place wasn't that bad as per Joseph's standards. Not that he made a fuss about everything being high-end, branded, expensive and classy. He was very down to earth for a prince from a royal family. However, he was worried about working at a vineyard. He had read the book and was thorough with everything theoretically but field work was a different matter altogether.

He still wondered why his dad had put him up for such an absurd and different job. Mostly he wondered why was it so important for him and grand dad. There was something that he didn't know about his family history but he had to do this anyway so there was no point in pondering.

He looked out of the window when they had hit the road again. The countryside was picturesque. He had been to France before once, on a trip with some friends. However, they mostly spent their limited days in Paris. This was entirely different.

Soon enough the car began to roll into the medieval streets of the small town of Saint Émilion. The sun had almost set and the streets were bustling with people. The town was simple and sweet, surrounded mostly by vineyards in all directions. However, towards the south, the ocean was visible. There was a huge bell tower in the heart of the town and Joseph guessed that it was church.

Mark pulled the car into a quite street almost at the extreme end of the town. At the end of the street was a two storey house. The house was rustic like all the other houses in town but it was well maintained and had a certain charm to it. Joseph paid Mark and carried his luggage to the doorstep. He usually didn't feel nervous in such situations but today he couldn't help but feel a little jittery. After taking a deep breath he rang the bell.

"Oui?" A middle-aged, pleasant looking woman answered the door.

"Hello. I am Joseph Martin. I talked to Mr. Boyce on call about the job?" Joseph said. He wondered how his dad made him through with all the background checks and everything within a day.

"Bonjour monsieur! Please come in." Mr. Boyce said as he appeared from inside the house.

Joseph grabbed his duffel bag and came in. He didn't bring much clothes because his wardrobe was full of expensive clothes which, obviously, a vineyard worker wouldn't wear. Mr. Boyce offered him a seat on the couch. After they were seated Joseph said,

"Thank you Mr. Boyce for having me here and giving me the job."

"Oh please, call me Gabriel. And this is my wife Antoinette. We are pleased to have you.In fact, we had posted the advertisement yesterday and I am surprised that someone turned in so quickly. After our son Thomas went to college in Paris, we needed a hand at our farm. You should know that we can't pay much but we can arrange for your accommodation at our house if you want."

"That's okay Gabriel, since I am inexperienced and I am here to learn and help, the pay doesn't matter. I would be really grateful for the accommodation though since I am new in this country."

"Oh your accent gives you in. If I am not wrong you're Scottish?"

"Um, I am from London actually. But close enough." Joseph smiled while hoping that he was lying smoothly.

"Oh too bad. My old man had a Scottish accent, but he sounded just like you. He passed away last year."

"Oh, I am so sorry for your loss."

"Thanks. Let me show you your room. You must be really tired from all the travelling. You can freshen up until the dinner gets ready."

Gabriel led the way up the stairs towards a small but orderly room with fresh sheets. He noticed that there were two other rooms down the hall and another one downstairs. Soon he was left alone in the room. He slumped on the bed and stared outside the window, watching the last of the sun rays fading into the darkness.

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Here's the next chapter. I have always loved the idea of visiting such a picturesque countryside. Tell me in the comments, what do you all prefer better, a big city or a small countryside town?