She loved the wine. “Delicious.” She smiled at Sylvie. She would really like to serve this at Rendezvous—imagine the stories she could tell, both about classic Médoc and about this particular vineyard! Maybe she could source wines made from grapes grown at Château de Chênes—what a dream that would be! “By the way, is it okay if we film our conversation? Obviously we’d get your permission before showing anything on TV.”
“No problem. How long are you staying in Bordeaux?” Sylvie asked once the camera was switched on.
“Only a few days,” Bente replied, taking another sip of her wine.
“You must try one of the beaches here in Médoc, on the Atlantic coast. The water isn’t warm, but the beaches are so beautiful.”
“We’ll definitely do that. How long have you had the vineyard?”
“Only a few months. I bought it from an elderly man whose children weren’t interested in taking over.”
“I read that on your home page—Jérôme Fossey, wasn’t it? And he acquired the neighboring vineyard, Château de Chênes, in the nineties?”
“That sounds right—I think it was sometime in the nineties. That’s the part of the vineyard you can see from here.” Sylvie pointed to theright. “Over there. Those vines used to belong to Château de Chênes. We can look at an old map if you like?”
Sylvie went inside and came back with a yellowed map, which she unfolded. It clearly showed the boundaries of the property. The main building of Château de Chênes was no more than five hundred yards from the main building of Château du Boda. The two vineyards with their rows upon rows of vines were located right next to each other.
“We found out from the city archive that the owners of Château de Chênes worked for the resistance movement,” Bente said.
“Really? That could well be true. Now that you mention it, I seem to recall Jérôme’s children saying something about that.”
“Do you happen to know if there was a Swedish man living here toward the end of the war?”
Sylvie shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t know much about the vineyard’s history.”
“And you don’t know why Jérôme took over Château de Chênes? The Latorres had a son, Mathieu—was he not interested in running the business?”
Once again Sylvie shook her head. “I’m sorry, I have to admit that I don’t know. I ought to read up on the history of both vineyards.” She laughed. “It’s really Jérôme you should be talking to.”
Bente was thinking exactly the same thing. He might be able to answer all their questions.
“Unfortunately, he’s not entirely ... He suffers from dementia, and it can be tricky to have a conversation with him.”
Bente wasn’t too keen on disturbing an elderly man with dementia with her questions. “Let’s start with what we can find out here,” she said, smiling at Sylvie.
“I can call the care home, see if they think Jérôme might be able up for a visit tomorrow?”
“That’s very kind of you,” Didrik said warmly.
“And there’s lots of old stuff over at Château de Chênes,” Sylvie added. “No one’s taken the time to go through it all. Jérôme’s kidsmade a start, but there are a whole lot of boxes and papers, and they gave up. I know the cellar has more or less been left untouched since the old owners handed the place over—I’m sure there will be things of interest to you. You’re welcome to walk through the passageways down below where we are now—now that would be worth filming! You can get to the main building of Château de Chênes via our wine cellar. The underground passageways were constructed after the First World War—several of the vineyards here in the village are connected.”
“That does sound exciting,” Didrik said. “We’d love to take a look.”
“There’s electricity and lighting for a short distance, but you can easily find your way with flashlights.”
They all exchanged smiles at the prospect of an adventure.
Sylvie led them down into the wine cellar. If they’d had more time, Bente would have happily studied the hundreds of bottles stored beneath the vaulted ceiling. Instead they continued along the damp, winding passage. Sylvie handed them each a flashlight.
“Keep going as far as you can. When you see a small staircase, that means you’re right under Château de Chênes.”
“Thank you so much for your help—we’ll be fine from here,” Didrik said.
“You’re welcome. I’ll leave the door open so you’ll be able to see your way out when you come back.”
They set off along the narrow passage. After a while they saw a plain door, and went through it.
They found themselves in a small, pleasant cellar. There was a desk in the middle of the room, piled high with boxes. A couple of benches and a bookcase lined the walls, and at the far end they saw a staircase leading up to a wooden hatch.
