Date: Sat, 23 Mar 2019 10:03:12 +0100 From: David Roslyn Subject: Fear by David Roslyn (category: Beginnings) - Chapter 9 Disclaimers: This work is a work of fiction and is my property. The story and characters are fictitious and any resemblance to anyone or any actual event is coincidental. There are three distinctly different main characters that will appear as the story progresses. You should be legally allowed to read this type of material before continuing. As it is based on an actual book, I had published a few years ago – free for your enjoyment – the story will not contain explicit material in all the chapters BUT don't fret, as it is more the exception than the rule. Note that there will be a violent scenario. If this will trigger any trauma for you, please be aware of it before you start reading. Please direct any comments or feedback to my email address at davidrolsynauthor2019@gmail.com. Enjoy! And remember to donate to Nifty! CHAPTER NINE James I try my best to stop thinking of Daniel. It's been a few days since we've met and though I've wanted to contact him, I'm fully aware that in just a few weeks I'll be leaving and it could end badly. But the temptation is still there. I know if I pursue this it will develop into something beautiful and more meaningful. But vacation romances always end, where one has to leave and one has to stay behind. We are in any case from two different worlds. Fuck! I need a distraction. Heading down to reception, I find the concierge and ask him for any suggestions of what I can do today. He grans a bunch of brochures and flyers on his desk and hands each one to me as he says, "You could take a helicopter ride over the area, or climb up Table Mountain, or join a wine tour ..." I interrupt him. "Wine tour?" "Yes. We sign you up for a tour that will take you to different wine estates outside Cape Town and you can taste the various wines, while learning more about our local history, etcetera." He hands points at the respective brochure in front of me. I study the different tours on offer and point at one. "Sign me up for this, please." Besides having a love for wine in general, this sounds right up my alley. I'd be out of the city and see a bit of the countryside, as well. "Sure sir. I'll call you when the bus gets here. Make sure you put on some sunscreen and it's best if you wear a cap. It can get hot out there." "Thanks. Will do," and I leave him to return to my room and change my shorts, which has been my choice of clothes ever since I got here, into a pair of jeans. I keep my sneakers and Hawaiian shirt on and put on a Yankees cap. Having rubbed sunscreen on my arms and neck, I'm ready and wait downstairs in the reception area on one of the couches. The bus picks me up around and hour later and I read up on my phone on the history of the wine industry in South Africa, while we make our way out of the city. Soon, the landscape becomes greener and the scenery even more striking. The Cape is seriously a beautiful place. My friends were once again correct, on that front. In the background, I stare in awe at the majestic blue Great Drakenstein and Stellenbosch mountains but then continue reading. The area boasts more than one hundred wineries and farms and these decorate the vine-swept landscape. Many of the estate manors are in the unique Cape-Dutch style, even though most of them were built in the time of the French Huguenots. This is where Franschhoek got its name, meaning `the French corner' in Dutch. At the first estate, with a beautiful façade, made up of ornate rounded gables at the centre of the long building, above a huge front door. It has walls perpendicular to it that have been whitewashed and have black shutters at every dark window frame. The roof is also thatched. Once inside, we meet a pleasant man in his late fifties who I assume is our host for our visit here. He welcomes us and then proceeds to explain to some novices, like me, on how we are to conduct ourselves, while tasting the wines, they have on offer. "You have to study the colour, light visibility and thickness of the wine. Then take a whiff and ask yourself if it is fruity and what kind of fruits does it make you think off. Don't focus on only one scent but try and identify different ones." He shows us how it's done and we follow suit. Some of our group are already way ahead of us. They must be connoisseurs. He continues, "Now you taste the wine. Let it rest on your tongue. Don't swallow too quickly, because then you'll experience the taste differently and you may get drunk from sipping too many different kinds of wines on your tour, which will defeat the reason you came on it, in the first place. Also remember, that wine has a texture and your tongue can perceive it if you concentrate carefully. Once you have spat out the wine into the special spittoons, provided here, you can ask yourself if it was too acidic or too strong. Did you like the wine? Was this wine special or average and were there elements that you liked?" He goes on to demonstrate and we copy him. I do as he says with every wine we taste but must admit I swallow a few of them. Especially when I like it and by the time we reach the third estate, I'm slightly drunk. This estate has large ornate metal gates at its main entrance and a beautiful manor, I can see resting on a small hill, in the distance. It's also in the distinctive Cape-Dutch style but is much larger than the previous two estates we've been to. It looks like something out of a movie. Majestic even. As we disembark from the bus and make our way into the main building, with its simple but well decorated interior, antiques everywhere, I spot Daniel from the foyer, standing at the main table in the big dining hall, towards the back. Oh, crap! Daniel looks as surprised as I am to see him, but he beams from across the room. Forgetting himself, he rushes over to me. "Hi James. Imagine seeing you here. Are you part of the tour? When I didn't hear from you, I thought I'd never see you again." Reminding himself that he's in public, he stops short of hugging me, going for a handshake instead. "Happy to see you Daniel. Yeah, I'm with this group. I was a bit busy. I hadn't realized you worked here, on a wine farm, no less." A little awkward. Admitting that I hadn't sought him out. "I'm studying oenology and have to do my practical in order to qualify." He cant's stop smiling as he answers me. He's really happy to see me. As if he remembers he's supposed to give all the tourists his attention, he grabs me by my forearm. "Chat later. I have to do my thing. You won't disappear on me, will you?" He looks so adorable with a pleading expression on his face. "No problem. We're having lunch in your restaurant next door afterwards, so we can spend some time in there." "Oh yes, I remember. Excellent!" And with that he turns his attention towards the others and begins by welcoming them all. I watch him throughout his entire performance and he seriously has a passion for this wine stuff. I enjoy drinking it myself, but wouldn't be bothered to study or even make it. He on the other hand, is in his element and I realize again that he's extremely good-looking. Charming in fact. He avoids eye contact with me the entire time, probably trying to concentrate. After we're done tasting the wines they have on offer, and listening to him explain each and every one of them with enthusiasm, we as a group start making our way to a much-needed pre-booked lunch. As I amble with the group, on our way out the front door, the restaurant is in a separate building, I feel him grab my elbow and pull at me. "Come with me." He directs me into a little room, that I think acts as an office, though it looks way to stylish to be one. It's probably one of the owners' private offices. "You sure we can come in here?" I look around nervously. He shuts the door. "Don't worry about it. I'm just happy to see you again. My leg is ok now, by the way. Thanks again for your help the other day." While he talks, I can't help but stare at his soft moist lips, that won't stop moving, and instinctively I move closer towards him. Leaning forward, I grab hold of him around his waist with both my arms, and kiss him hard on his mouth. I can taste the wine on his breath, as my tongue caresses what must be the inside of heaven. At this exact moment, the door flies open and a middle-aged, mean-looking, bald man, interrupts us. Still embracing, Daniel and I stare at him in shock. "What the fucking hell is going on in here?!" The guy storms over towards me and grabs me by my shoulder, spinning me around in the process to face him. Daniel tries to come between us but he shoves him to the side. "We don't like your kind around here!" He shoves me and I stagger against the antique bookcase behind me. Seriously, what the fuck's his problem! "No, Oom Johan!" Daniel tries again to interfere and this guy, he calls Johan, back-hands him that he goes flying against the wall. Without as much as a thought, I move in and right-hook him on the chin, causing him to trip backwards over his own feet and fall onto the hard, shiny, floor. He gets up and comes for me but I block him. He may be large but he isn't fit and I've learnt much in the way of defending myself. I get another two punches in and break his nose, before Daniel, beside himself with fear, stops me from teaching this retard a lesson. "Stop James! Please! He's my boss!" So, what! But I bring my hands down and Johan grabs his nose with both his hands to try and stop the bleeding. He turns around and leaves the room. As he exits, he looks at Daniel. "You'll pay for this, you fucking moffie!" This isn't how this was supposed to go. I've made a mess of things and I move towards him. "I'm terribly sorry, Daniel. I couldn't just let him treat you like that." "I can stand up for myself. Just go. Please." He points at the door, visibly angry. Leaving reluctantly, I can't think of what to say to him and make my way to the restaurant to join the group. Food's the last thing on my mind.