In Vino Veritas Read Free Page A

forward and the face of one of the swarthy Welsh miners who had dominated the valleys fifty miles to the south of here in the not-so-distant past. Gerry Davies was the shop manager. He oversaw the sales of wines and the multiple associated products which had been the heartbeat of the enterprise since the earliest days of Abbey Vineyards. ‘And I’d say there are direct results. We sell considerable quantities of wine to the people who have been on the guided tours. More now than when we started. In my opinion they’re well worth while.’
    The chairman nodded thoughtfully. ‘You think these sales result directly from the tours?’
    â€˜Almost invariably. I’d say most people who go on one of Sarah’s walks buy at least one bottle of wine. Quite often someone will buy a case. I can say that with conviction, because I’ve seen the improvement since we’ve had a regular programme of tours.’
    â€˜And why would that be?’
    â€˜I’ve no idea.’ He shrugged his big shoulders and looked interrogatively at Sarah Vaughan.
    â€˜I think I know why,’ said Sarah Vaughan slowly, ‘but I’m glad to hear that you think things have improved.’ She looked round the table, as if checking that she had a receptive audience. ‘You get better at anything by doing it. I noticed that I was getting more relaxed and confident myself, and I could sense that my talk was going better, that I had a better rapport with my audience as we went round the different areas. They began asking me more questions, for one thing, which I took as a sign of interest. So I didn’t just work on my own little talks, I watched to see who else went down well. When we began the tours we used anyone who was free at the time. Now I assign them as far as possible to three people: Gerry, myself and Joe Logan, who works three days a week in the shop but seems to have a gift for communication with the public. I feel the tours are more interesting as a result. I’m glad it’s paying concrete dividends in the shape of sales.’
    There was a little murmur of approval from her fellow workers. Martin Beaumont said rather stiffly, ‘It’s good to hear that people like you are thinking about the job and how it might best be done, Sarah. This is the sort of initiative we’ll all need to show in the testing two or three years ahead. How is the “Adopt a Vine” scheme going?’
    â€˜It’s really too early to say. This is probably the time of year when we should sell most memberships. We’ve only sold seven so far this year but we’ve had quite a lot of interest expressed. The scheme has the disadvantage that you lay out £25 and wait for quite some time before you get anything back for your money, so take-up is probably going to be confined to real wine enthusiasts.’
    The ‘Adopt a Vine’ scheme was one of Martin’s own, which he had brought back from a vineyards convention. He would have preferred to hear that there was a more enthusiastic take-up, but he had no idea how that might be achieved. He was more concerned to get his own ideas across than to listen to those of other people, more conscious of his own reactions to items than of those of the other five people in the room. He said abruptly, ‘Item Four. Shop Sales’.
    There was a moment of tension. Everyone knew that it was the sales in the shop, and above all else the sales of wines, which drove the whole enterprise. It was a long process planting the long rows of vines, then tending them for years until they reached commercial production levels. Those years had been endured some time ago and Abbey Vineyards was now a prosperous business. But it needed perpetual vigilance, awareness and industry to keep it so. There was still much scepticism among the public about English wines; there were still yearly battles, first to bring in a worthwhile grape harvest and then to sell the