Missing

Chapter Thirteen

A few minutes before six, Maria drove the lorry into the courtyard and eased it to a stop in the corner. David bounded down the steps and across to greet her as she climbed from the cab. They merged in a long embrace.

"That was so easy," Maria said. "The border guards were most helpful and friendly."

"Probably smitten by your beauty."

"Bosh!"

"Think on it. Your beauty is a powerful tool. It gives you a strong presence, and it causes men to want to assist you. They want you to look favourably upon them."

"David's right, Maria," Rachel said as she walked from the gate to join them. "A woman's beauty and charm are very powerful, but only if not blatantly used; if not flaunted. Just be yourself and allow the power of your presence to command."

"So you had no difficulties crossing in either direction?"

"None. None whatsoever." Maria took David's arm and turned him toward the stone steps. "But let's go join Tante and share our story with her." She reached into the cab and picked up a small basket. "Some of Oma and Opa's wine."

David took the basket from her, and they all headed in. They then sat in the parlour as the women shared their adventures.

"We thought the easiest way would be to tell them what we were doing," Maria said. "So at both posts, we told the guards we wanted to find out what was needed to take the lorry across and drive to visit my grandparents in Unterhallau."

"We asked the Germans about bringing vegetables back into the country to ease the food shortages," Rachel added. "And we asked the Swiss what was required to bring in wine."

"That was so funny — the Customs agent's reaction," Maria sniggered. "The look on his face, when he finally realised we were talking about not a few bottles, but many thousands. It appears, Tante, since you have a vineyard in Trasadingen, we can bring in any wine we have made but not need to pay excise taxes on it until it is sold."

"That's the same I do here," Bethia said. "Submit monthly reports and pay the taxes on the sales."

"And as we did in Gottenheim," Rachel said. "The agent told us he'd check the regulations for us, but he's quite certain that if we report the quantity we import as if it were a harvest declaration, then we can defer paying taxes until the wines are sold."

"He said he'd also check the personal consumption exemption," Maria added, "He thought it was a litre a day per person, and Opa confirmed this."

"So with the four of us, that's nearly fifteen hundred litres per year," David said. "How big are the bottles?"

"We use Burgundy bottles, seventy-three centilitres," Bethia said. "But the girls are using the standard seventy-one-centilitre German bottle."

"That's over two thousand bottles per year," he said after another quick mental calculation. "That's a lot of wine to consume, but I'm willing to work at it — I've come to enjoy wine very much."

"You've been spoiled, David." Maria shook her head and chuckled. "You've had nothing but superb wine. Most wine is of lesser quality, some of it a great deal lesser. There's also a goodly share of swill out there."

"It'll be a while longer before you have a chance to try any of the lesser ones." Rachel pointed to the basket at David's feet. "Oma and Opa shared some of their wine with us and gave us bottles to bring back."

Bethia looked at the clock on the wall. "We should do something about dinner; it's heading toward seven. I could grill a thick slab of ham and boil some potatoes and carrots." She glanced around from eye to eye. "How would that be? We can have some of their wine with it. I'm so delighted you're here."

"Could we have the carrots the way Maria did them for us in the mountains?" He looked at Maria and then at Bethia. "Steamed in a dollop of butter and their own juices. They're so delicious done that way."

"I'll do the potatoes and carrots, Tante." Maria stood and glanced toward the kitchen. "Maybe we can all head over there and carry on with our story while we cook."

David and Rachel sat while Bethia and Maria worked on dinner preparations and Rachel continued retelling the adventure. "Once we were through the border, the road led directly into the middle of Trasadingen. We saw three properties for sale on our drive through, and that's without checking along the side or back streets."

"Then there's a charming schloss a few hundred metres beyond the edge of the village on the road to Unterhallau," Maria added. "What a beautiful setting that is. It appears the vineyards on the slopes around it are part of the estate."

"So there seems no shortage of properties for sale," David said, his smile widening. "That's good. The more there are, the better your purchasing position. Tante, if as you say, people are leaving for the larger towns and the cities, there'll be a shortage of buyers. In large measure, price is determined by supply and demand."

Bethia looked up from slicing a thick steak from a ham and smiled at David. "With your business and negotiating skills, I'm certain we'll do just fine." She turned to Rachel. "So how are Oma and Opa, Sweetheart?"

"They're both spry and healthy. I hadn't seen Jacob and Maddie since they visited us in Gottenheim almost four years ago. They were delighted to see us — they're the same age as you, Tante, sixty-five and sixty-seven, and they're looking forward to meeting you. You'll enjoy them. They share your free spirit, and they also make superb wine."

Maria looked up from setting the potato pot on the stove. "Speaking of wine, Mama, we should open their Weißburgunder to sip as we wait for dinner to cook."

Rachel rose. "I'll get the wine and the glasses."

They sat around the kitchen table nosing, sipping and discussing the wine. "This is leaner than yours, Tante," Maria said. "It has a more minerally flavour, a little less of the ripe peaches and honey, but an excellent wine."

"So this is the same grape variety as your white, Tante." David examined the label. "And the same year, 1911. Delicious, but so different."

"A superb wine, but made in a different style, by a different method." Bethia swirled her glass again. "Most likely fermented in a vat, not in small barrels. It doesn't have the concentration of fruit, nor the added complexity of vanilla and brioche that come with prolonged oak and yeast contact in a small barrel."

"An interesting thing," Rachel said, "is that they're made from the same variety, harvested in the same year and from within a few kilometres of each other, but they're completely different. Much of that is from the difference in winemaking style, but part of it is also the vineyard, particularly the composition of its soil and the angle and orientation of its slope toward the sun. Then there are the different pruning and training styles."

"There's even a new word coming into popular use among winemakers." Bethia looked up from her wine and continued. "Zymurgy, the study of fermentation. Aaron and I went to a zymurgy conference in Wiesbaden two years ago, and we were amazed by the diversity of methodology that was in common use, let alone the uncommon ones."

"I had no idea that wine was such a complex topic." David rolled the wine around in his glass and inhaled its aromas. "Here we have three different winemaking philosophies, each making such different wines from similar ingredients. There seem so many choices." He put his nose to his glass again. So many choices, but I have only two. Leave and rip out my heart or stay and betray my soul.