Chapter 17: Chateau Renault

Ten days later, on a rather hot day in early August, David and Melanie were on their way again. The shooting was in the bag as far as they were concerned, and they were heading for the small town of Saint Nazaire in the Department Roussillon. A little to the south of that town was the Chateau Renault. Jeanne Renault claimed that it was just a pretentious title for a 1920s villa set in the middle of a major vineyard, the Clos de Renault en Roussillon. Yet the heavy Roussillon wine produced there was exported all over the world and was a major contributor to Melanie's trust fund.

The hilly terrain made for a relaxed ride on the scooter and the two young people enjoyed the chance to be by themselves. The caretaker of the vineyard, a George Tenet, had been notified in advance that his boss was coming with her boyfriend and other guests, and Melanie had been assured that the villa was ready.

Passing through Saint Nazaire, David had to rely on the navigation app on Melanie's smartphone to find the small road that led to her possessions. The chateau was not quite as small as Jeanne had made them believe and it looked quite impressive and well maintained. David parked the scooter on the gravel in front of the entrance and put it on the kick stand while Melanie hopped off the rear seat. She took off her helmet and stood in the centre of the courtyard taking in the scenery. David too took off his helmet and stepped close to Melanie, holding her from behind.

"Memories?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes. My father loved this place. For me it was boring of course. What can a twelve-year-old do here? Yet I missed coming here after his death."

"It's your first time visiting again?"

She nodded silently. "Lana didn't want to visit. I guess she lived here with father and she hated the memories. I haven't been here in almost nine years."

Just then a man in his late fifties emerged from a smaller building to the left of the villa. He was portly, bald, and sporting full, grey beard.

"Mademoiselle Renault!" he exclaimed excitedly. "Georges Tenet."

"Bonjour, Monsieur Tenet," Melanie answered. "Please meet my fiancé, David Olsen!"

"Enchanté, Monsieur Olsen," Tenet smiled at David who nodded.

"Pleased to meet you, M. Tenet!"

Tenet smiled. "We have readied the bedrooms and my niece has agreed to help out as housekeeper."

David nodded at the man. "Merci beaucoup!"

They took their bags from the panniers and followed the caretaker into the villa. It was obvious that the house had not been subject to renovations for many years. The walls clearly needed a fresh coat of paint, but the furniture was solid mahogany and highly polished. The caretaker obviously had the house cleaned.

Upstairs, they were shown to a master bedroom, but Melanie declined. Jeanne would arrive later in the day and she should have the big bedroom. Melanie picked another room for David and herself that had a balcony overlooking the garden in the back of the villa. The bed was a typical "French bed" of perhaps 4'6" width, but that was okay.

When they returned to the downstairs, a table had been set for them on the veranda and a youngish French woman was bustling around, laying the table for a lunch. A carafe of wine and another carafe with water were the drink options. Melanie looked at the wine dubiously.

"Should I?" she asked David.

He shrugged. "We're done driving for today and we're on your own property. Any cop wanting to test you would need your permission to enter the property first."

"No! David, the last time I had wine coolers I nearly killed you."

"Not much chance of that." He grinned. "Even if we have sex, you would notice pretty quickly if you're riding in the wrong lane."

Melanie blushed deeply. "Asen! So you're okay with it?"

"It's your name on the damn bottle. Mel, I'm on my feet again. I can even play ball. I may even find my name in the IMDB soon. What I want to say, I'm over the resentment. Let's just limit the drinking to when we're by ourselves, enjoying a 2004 Chateau Renault Grand Reserve."

"My father let me have a glass or two back then," she recalled. "He said it was part of the heritage. Our family grew wine before some of them started as actors."

"Another thing that's in your genes, huh?"

"In a way, yes. Okay then. Pour me two fingers high."

David complied and helped himself too. Melanie then raised the glass to her nose and inhaled while swirling the contents. Then she sipped elaborately. Checking herself, she giggled.

"I'm such a show off! I couldn't tell the difference between this and a Wal-Mart special."

"Yeah, me neither, but I can tell that this is really good stuff."

"How, Mr Gourmet?"

"I saw a price list on the office door, and this is marked at € 42, over $ 50. This has to be good."

"Asen!" Melanie giggled throwing a napkin at him.

A plate of cheese and another of smoked ham shavings complemented the wine perfectly and they ate with enjoyment.

"God, I could get used to living here," David sighed.

Melanie shrugged. "We could do that, at least during the summer breaks. It's my house after all. I think I'll have it renovated though. Some internet access would be fine too, and maybe a pool in the garden. We could have Uncle Josh, Judy and Dani join us, even let our friends use it in the off-season. I'll talk to the patron about this."

"That's not a bad idea. I guess that most of the year there is little activity around here?"

"Are you kidding? The wine stocks require constant care. There are five people working here year-round, with another twenty during the vintage and the pressing."

"Oops, I had no idea. I thought you pretty much let the grapes grow and then you have machines for the harvest."

Melanie shook her head. "Maybe for the industrial rotgut produced at some places, but not here. I mean, we're not stomping the grapes with our feet..."

"That would be funny. They really did that in the old days?"

"I guess. How about a stroll to settle the wine and food?"

"I'm game. Let's," David answered.

For an hour, they explored the vicinity of the villa, watching some of the vintners work between the long rows of wine stocks. From a point higher up, they had a nice view of the Mediterranean Sea and they decided to head for the beach on the next morning.

When they returned to the villa, Jeanne's car, a vintage Citroen DS21, was parked in front. David was seriously in lust with that car, but Jeanne let nobody else drive it. She emerged from the villa with a smile on her face.

"Hello, my dears. Did you have a nice trip?"

Melanie nodded. "Yes, we arrived early and had a lunch already. Are you hungry?"

"I made a stop in the village. They have a great burger place," she grinned at David.

"Nah, I'm good here," David answered with a smile. "We just decided to come here more often. Mel even wants to put paint on the walls."

The old woman beamed. "Your father would be very happy hearing this. He loved the place."

Melanie grinned. "That's because he could have all those women visit without anybody knowing. I came down to breakfast, and there was a new one sitting on his lap. It sure helped me to develop my memory, having to learn all their names."

"Yes, he was that way," Jeanne said a touch sadly. "But he loved you deeply."

"I know that," Melanie answered with a nod. "I often wonder..."

"We both know that this would have been impossible. No judge in the world would have awarded Marc custody over a girl," Jeanne said with a wry smile.

Melanie wagged her head. "There is that." Her face cleared and she grabbed David's hand. "Something good came out of it too."

Jeanne smiled at them. "You are so cute together; it is bad for my diabetes. Enough of that! We'll probably wrap up the shooting in a week. The distributor wants a release in early December, meaning we must rush through post-production. Having you on the cast is quite an advantage by the way. We already have an American distributor, and they press for December as well."

Melanie nodded. "This year they can still milk my Oscar."

"I wish you were not so cynical, but you are correct of course," Jeanne grinned. "They even want to elevate your billing for the American market."

Melanie snorted. "I bet they want. Well, if this gets more people to see my hot boyfriend in his acting debut, who am I to complain?"

David blushed. "I guess I can count myself lucky that I'll be in Spain and won't have to read the reviews."

"Oh, you'll do fine. At least when we're done with the editing," Jeanne grinned. "Oh, and David, you should read your contract. We can schedule you for PR events such a premieres. You will at least have to be there for the premieres in Paris, New York and Los Angeles."

"LA? No way! Everybody will laugh their heads off watching me pretend that I'm a pro player."

Jeanne smiled sympathetically. "It won't be that bad. A romantic French comedy will not exactly draw much of the sports fan crowd."

Melanie put her hand on David's arm. "I saw some of the footage. You looked great there, and I mean your ball playing. It's as if you've had so much time to think about playing, you've improved in real life. Your timing is picture perfect."