Lola's Lurching Life Ch. 02

"Oh."

"Omigod Lola, this is the first time that I've heard you virtually speechless."

"Are you home?"

"No, just clearing up before I leave his site. I'm buggered."

"Should you use that phrase to a lady?"

"What if I said I was fucked?"

"Her ladyship says that is acceptable phrasing, because it doesn't possess the instant foul connections that being buggered does."

"Christ."

"Have I caught you virtually wordless, Nick?"

"Please, Lola, I'm too tired to waddle in twaddle that is near incomprehensible to me."

Lola smiled, thinking she had Nick strategically well-placed.

"I've just received Dougal and Helena's combined authority to engage you to commence fracturing the scoria bed beneath each of their vines or whatever you believe is necessary. I accept that you will have other work in progress before you can book us in to really attack our field in earnest. All I ask is that you spend the full day tomorrow drilling different sections of the Wallace's vineyard so that you, Dougal, Helena and I have fairly rough scope of the task facing us and you will have sufficient info on which to quote reliably for your work ahead."

Nick sighed and that that was a mix of professional and layperson's terms.

Lola said slyly, "For a guy who clearly knows that that sexual relations, a hot conquest, a great lay, and a fuck, all virtually mean the same thing, my quasi-technical comments to you ought to equally be well understandable."

He sighed heavily and said, "Lola, you have awesome ability with your tongue."

"So be it. I'm sorry to hear you feel close to exhaustion. Just have your rig on the way here by 8:00 in the morning."

She cut the call.

Her phone immediately rang again and she switched it off.

Lola came in off the long front porch and said sweetly to Dougal and Helena, "In all probability, Nick will be here early in the morning to do a day's test drilling."

"We know," Lola said. "I turned off the TV sound to ensure we heard you. At times you were disgusting and unnecessary harsh to poor Nick. You sounded as if you were bawling out a dog."

Lola giggled and said, "Funny you should mention the word dog. I've figured it is the best way to communicate with him as no other female apart from his mother would attempt to deal him like that. So far it seems to work. Now he cannot but come here to drill in the morning, and I'm willing to bet on that."

The Wallace's gaped at Lola. She just smiled and went off to get pre-dinner wine and glasses.

Next day Lola received a call from a guy who identified himself as Peter Stone, chairman of the Waiheke section of the Wine Institute.

"Lola, half the island appears to be talking about you as being a guru of some sort, and they include my wife. She convinced me that you should be appointed to our team of five voluntary Wine Ambassadors that we have on call to lead bus tour groups around some of the island's wineries. None of our ambassadors take more than one bus group a week. Are your interested?"

"Yes, but I don't know if my knowledge and experience is sufficient..."

"I have consulted five prominent producers including your friend and my immediate predecessor in this role for ten years, Paulo Orsini. He assured me as the other four who also have knowledge of you, said you would be a perfect choice. In fact, Paulo said, within three months of your settling into the role of an ambassador, you'd automatically become first choice to lead bus tours of wine industry VIPs."

"What?"

"That's the truth, Miss..."

"I invited you to call me Lola."

"Well, Lola. Can you come in to our office in the morning to sign up as an ambassador?"

"Of course. If Paulo can express that level of confidence in me, how could I refuse this honour?"

"Gawd Lola, you already sound like a perfect Wine Ambassador for this island."

She signed up next morning and three days later a front page article and large photograph of Lola at the signing under the heading, 'Ambassador Lola' in the Gulf News newspaper was being distributed around the island.

Helena and Dougal were having breakfast when Callum, grinning hugely, placed two fresh bottles of milk on the table and held up the newspaper.

"What the fuck," said his parents in surprise, not knowing anything about the appointment.

"Lola!" screamed Helena.

"Coming in with the milk and paper, I saw her over at the vineyard," Callum said. "She'll be waiting for Nick to arrive to perform the drilling assessment."

"Right, I'm off to give her a piece of my mind for not telling me about this."

But Dougal stood, blocking his wife's exit.

"Finish your breakfast with a nice cup of tea, love. By then you will have cooled down and able to congratulate Lola on her appointment in your usually lovely manner."

"Out of my way or I'll thump you."

"And you'll have to contend with me," Callum said, standing beside his dad.

"Omigod, this is Lola's influence turning you guys into real men," Helena said, and returned to her chair, hiding a wee grin.

Three weeks later, all scoria penetration work finished.

Test drilling had indicated the average time for drilling under each vine would be four minutes or less, and that including moving the rig to begin drilling under the next vine. After the first day of drilling, Nick hired an unemployed youth who'd grown up on a farm to do the drilling to save on labour costs involving 450 hours of work.

Nick had also arrived towing a digger on that first day which was used to dig down alongside three vines at three different intervals to expose the extent of scoria fracturing around each drilling hole that were left unfilled. The digger also removed 36 vines growing over a large slab of thick buried rock, with the vines replanted at the far end vineyard to replace the occasional vine that perished for whatever reason including being struck by a tractor wheel during vineyard maintenance.

Dougal brought over a large water tank he had in storage and placed it over the site of the rock for an additional water supply for gravity drip-feeding of part of the vineyard below it. The digger was used to for shallow v-shaped drainage to collect rainwater from the upper slopes on the highest side of the caldera to be fed into two larger tanks to be installed higher up the slope to supply gravity fed water to the lower supplementary tank and to connect to the main piping to water vines as required above the supplementary tank.

Dougal was well-pleased with this low-cost water supply, suggested by Lola and Nick while eating lunch and discussing what should be done with the bared ground above the rock.

Nick stayed for dinner the evening the work finished, and after paying off his hired help who biked home. While drilling continued, Helena and Lola had worked at applying abandoned old silage delivered in five loads in a 2-ton dump truck by a neighbouring farmer in return for 85 bottles of the Wallace's wine. The two women barrowed compost from the dumped off point to rake it around the vines, mixing in an appropriate mix of nutrients indicated by the soil testing results.

Nick returned from showering, wearing one of Dougal casual shirts and a pair of old jeans that were now too small from Dougal.

Lola, also changed, stopped Nick in his tracks and hugged and kissed him deeply in front of everyone, including his parents who'd also been invited to dinner.

"What was that for?"

"For doing such a fine job for us," Lola cooed.

"I did it for the money."

"And to indicate your respect for the Wallace's, I hope."

"Ah, yes of course."

"And to show a bit of respect for me?"

"Hell yes," cried Nick, and launched himself at her, bending her backwards almost in two.

"That's enough Nick," said his mother Maria, much in a tone of a handler calling a mustering dog to heel.

Dougal and Helena glanced at one another smiling at hearing the tone of that command.

Nick obeyed almost instantly and Lola straightened and cooed, "That was lovely, thank you Nick. It's lovely feeling appreciated."

Everyone in the room looked on in silence.

Iona jumped to her feet, grabbing an open bottle of wine, an announcing. "Who is ready for a top up."

Normal conversation resumed.

Later Helena said, "Grab a seat at the table everyone; dinner if ready for serving.

Maria pushed aside Nick to sot between him and Lola. She whispered to Lola, "Careful dear, give him an inch and he'll attempt to go for gold."

"He may be successful, but only when I permit that," Lola whispered. "I'm aware that it's much like training an uncastrated young dog.

Maria sputtered out the wine she had just taken into her mouth and everyone was left wondering what Lola had said to her.

When the guests were leaving, Maria said after kissing Lola goodnight, "What's on for you now your work here has ended, darling?"

"Tomorrow I intend to begin looking around from employment on the island or perhaps buy into a vineyard."

"Come and visit us mid-morning for coffee and I'll show you something that may interest you," Maria said.

Next morning after coffee, Lola became a passenger in an electric golf buggy fitted with all terrain wheels and Maria drove her around sections of the huge vineyard with autumn pruning under way with one section left bearing late-harvest grapes for production of a big batch of sweet wine. At the far end of the property slopping down to the sea, Maria said, "This is the planting of 4000 vines that I thought could interest you."

"Because of the on-shore windy weather at times, occasionally stormy weather, these vines taking something of a beating, compared with vines our inland and on the flatter land. I talked this over with Paulo and he approves of what I wish to suggest to you."

"Would you like to inspect this block of vines at your leisure, bringing in consultants if you wish, with a view of leasing the block for a minimum of five seasons. We can make production figures from this block from 11 seasons available to you."

"Leasing? Is there a possibility of me purchasing the block? I have money."

"Unfortunately, no. The traditional and ingrained belief of the Orsini family stretching back many generations, is the Orsini's are open to the possibility of buying more land, but never to sell their productive land."

"Oh."

"Never mind dear, if you and Nick marry, you would in effect be an Orsini."

"The idea of that has some merit, but who knows what will eventuate between Nick and me. I admit there only casual interest between us, but that's all at the moment. My current desire is to buy a vineyard and several are available for sale, I guess with owners of expensive developments over the years feeling the actual squeeze or the prospect of that coming on massive loans, and they face uncertain times in respect of market demands in current economic uncertainties in the wake of the massive impact of the world-wide Covid-19 pandemic."

"Also, when I begin talking to selling agents today, I will mention my alternative interest in buying a slice of a productive vineyard as a working partner."

"Come back to the café now for another coffee and I'm calling Paulo to join us there. We can suggest owners who might be interested in a working partnership deal, especially those wishing to ease back on their existing workload. Paulo can give you tips on negotiating a partnership deal with knowledge of some of the expected snags and even pitfalls involved and of course, snags and even pitfalls could be involved in the purchase of a smaller vineyard outright. We really like you and would like to see you stay on the island as part of the new generation of vineyard owners"

"Paulo and a couple of his cronies could look through any offer you negotiate, particularly taking not of the contract details with a wine producing company that could transfer to you in any sale."

"Thanks very much for those suggestions, Maria. I assume that you are already a very busy person and so why be so kind to me?"

"Don't get mad at me saying this, Lola. I'd like to see you and Nick marry in due course. I see signs that his wild ways are slowing and we have never seen him associate with a young woman quite like you. I tend to think he's rather in awe of you."

"Oh Maria, how can you possibly know that."

"Lola, truthfully now. Has he hit on you yet?"

"No."

"There you go. You two have known each other for close on a month now. I'm prepared to swear by crossing my heart that n I know of no other nubile female who's only come within Nick's radar for a matter of days could say he's not attempted to hit on her. Most probably open their legs for him shortly after the first kiss."

Lola looked at Maria wide-eyed and sighing said, "Well I must agree that sounds pretty significant that Nick is waiting for me to give him the come-on."

"Aren't even tough-ass men like kids at times," Maria snorted.

The two women laughed, enjoying the moment, with Lola having a fleeting thought that she might be seated alongside her future mother-in-law.

Later, leaving Maria and Paulo with a list of local salespersons specializing in the trading of vineyards in her handbag, Lola drove off to Oneroa village to see if she could meet with the agent identified as No. 1 on that list.

She felt so happy, thinking that happier state of mind had been occurring quite frequently recently. It would appear that she had completely unravelled back to normal.

Chapter 11

Lola Hunt, intending permanent resident of Waiheke Island, just over a half-hour quick ferry ride from Auckland, New Zealand's largest city, was aware she was heading for the island's busiest commercial area, that was minute. Although the island's permanent population was less than 10,000 people, the so called 'island paradise' received more than a million visitors a year from both mainland New Zealand and from overseas. Many Mainlanders had holiday homes on the island.

She'd already been to Oneroa several times and knew not to expect mega supermarkets and shopping malls and couldn't remember seeing any business housed in premises higher than three levels. Many residents called it a village while the traditional New Zealand term for such a small centre was 'township'.

Nevertheless, shops were stocked with items top catch the discerning eyes of choosy tourists as well as providing for the daily needs of permanent residents that included retirees and a number of residents on the national unemployed benefit (cash grants). It was a bit of a mix, really, summed up in the availability from cheap fast-food outlets to restaurant fare of fine cuisine.

Oh yes, the regularly sun-swept island where trampers (hikers) and people living in mostly hidden shacks existed virtually side-by-side with residents living graciously in palatial homes that often dominated the slopes of exotic little bays. In contrast to the humble residences, well-heeled tourists rode about in style, staying at world-class accommodation at top vineyards with their orderly sweeping rows of grape vines that produce world-class wines and with prime olive groves situated nearby.

The scores of picturesque and unpopulated bays with spacious and (subject to prevailing weather forecasts) sheltered anchorages, gave the island it's well-deserved reputation as being 'a boaties paradise'.

Arriving at Oneroa close to the start of the 3-hour shopping-lunching peak of the day, Lola managed to nose in to a parking spot behind a departing motorist for a short walk beyond the property sales agency she'd passed on her arrival into the commercial hub.

Her preferred agent was out with clients and she left a message for him, inviting him to take her on as a new and determined buyer to lunch to discuss viniculture prospects.

The receptionist had said Matt Holmes might be away for another hour or so.

Lola said never mind, she had all day if required, becoming aware that the term 'mañana' was well-entrenched in social life on Waiheke Island and she had the determination to be flexible to the demands (of lack of them) within her environment where late-lunching even at 4.00 was not uncommon.

After fifty minutes of shop browsing, Lola took a call from Matt Holmes.

"I'm just on my way back to the office with clients, Miss Hunt. I'm pleased to have the opportunity to be of service to you, a newcomer to the island who already is widely known awesome saviour of one of our well-known residents, Helena Wallace, from cruel distress. Our receptionist confessed to me that she almost swept off your feet when you gave her your name and she realised who she was dealing with.

'Saviour', get real will you Matt, if I may call you that.

Matt and the passengers in his vehicle obviously over-hearing the conversation burst into laughter.

"Thank you Miss err Lola. I be the best part of an hour away as I'll have to rush home shower and dress in a fresh shirt."

"Get real Matt, there I've said that again. I'm in wearing just a lace decorated shirt and over-tight jeans. Just come as you are, naming the eatery in Oneroa where we are to meet, without your suit jacket and tie if you are wearing one."

Lola dawdled to the location of the casual BYO (Bring Your Own wine) restaurant that Matt had named.

She sat at a window table, as the initial rush for tables had eased, over-looking the lovely Oneroa Bay where the anchored craft included a brig. Lola sipped chilled sparkling water passing time imagining the bay of long ago peppered with brigs and larger sailing ships at rest.

"Lola?"

"Oh hi," she said, holding out a hand that Matt shook gently. "I had been..."

"Dreaming, looking out into the bay," he smiled, sitting. "I know, it's an infectious past-time on this island, which is the reason it's sometimes referred to as a paradise.

Lola sighed as Matt handed a wrapped bottle of wine to the waitress that he called Toni with familiarity that made Lola think he must be a regular customer. She had half-expected a big shot like Matt to be great looking with a tall, athletic body, but he had the ruddy complexion of an over-worked and an excessive drinker of alcohol, and he might even be not as tall as she was in bare feet at a fraction under 1.82 meters (six feet).

Well, did it matter? He was here as her professional consultant, not to impress her physically, and if he led her into a deal that pleased her, he'd earn a big fee.

The waitress returned with the wine in a chiller tube and two premium glasses.

"Thank love, I'll pour," he said and placing his arm around the early 20-something waitress, he said, "Lola, this is my youngest daughter Toni. Toni this is Miss Lola Hunt."

"Oh, Mrs Wallace's unbelievable good Samaritan. It's so lovely to meet you Miss Hunt. I can now tell my girlfriends that not only you are unbelievable kind but also a truly gorgeous-looking young woman."

"And you are turning into a beauty, Toni. I can guess that my agent here married a beautiful woman."

"Thanks, Miss Hunt. Mum and dad look awesome in their wedding photo."

Toni was called and off she went and with Lola and Matt looking at the retreating figure, he said, "Her mother desperately wanted her to become at model at seventeen but Toni rejected the thought of that possibility. She returned last month after spending eight months in America with two of her ski-mad girlfriends, first training for three months as ski instructors and for ski-field emergencies, and then the rest of their time in America worked as rookies assisting professional skiing instructors."

"In two weeks, the three of them take up jobs now the seasonal snowfalls are arriving at ski fields in the Queenstown region instructing classes of skiing learners under the age of 15 the ropes on a ski-field. She is hoping to find an American skiing instructor employed here for our winter and return to the States with him, meaning they engage in reciprocal visits between the two countries as the two country's ski seasons are roughly twelve months apart. I think such an idea could turn out disastrously for her if she chooses a dodgy guy to hook up with."