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a definite asset to the front office.
On the afternoon of Luis's second day in the white coat, the owner received a semi-important local politician and his wife. For half an hour they tasted samples which Luis poured, holding each bottle in a white napkin and demonstrating a small flourish of pride, while the owner released his limited wine-vocabulary a word at a time, like toy balloons: mature . . . discreet , . . robust . . . challenging . . . brave. . .
He opened a fresh bottle and handed it to Luis.
'Now this is something different,' he said. 'Those others are good wines, excellent wines some of them. But this I have kept apart for several years, awaiting . . .' He leaned forward and watched closely as Luis poured. '. . , awaiting a palate which can appreciate the gift of time.'
Luis stiffened. The politician's wife noticed this, and glanced at him. Luis finished pouring, but omitted the usual small flourish.
They raised their glasses and examined the wine. 'Once in a lifetime,' the owner said. 'Perhaps, if God wills it, twice. Ten years ago, when I was privileged to make this discovery, it was so small and so rare that I made the decision that I must bottle it all myself, with these very hands.'
'No you didn't,' Luis said.
Three heads turned and stared. The owner's eyes were sick with rage. Luis tightened his grip on the bottle and breathed deeply.
'Explain yourself,' invited the politician's wife.
'He didn't bottle this stuff ten years ago,' Luis declared. 'I bottled it last week. There's enough of it downstairs to drown an elephant.'
'Get out,' the owner ordered. 'The boy is feeble-minded," he told them, smiling savagely.
'Two elephants,' Luis said. His heart was galloping, squeezing all the air from his lungs.
'Ignore him, the child is drunk,' the owner said. He wanted to grab Luis but Luis had moved behind a table and the owner was afraid of a humiliating chase. 'He is a halfwit, you see. I took him on as a favour, a halfwit, he says these things, stupid meaningless things.' The owner was sweating like old cheese. 'And when I am not looking he drinks. A drunken halfwit.'
'I am not a child,' Luis said evenly. 'I am fifteen years old.' He pressed his thighs against the edge of the table to stop them trembling.
The politician and his wife looked at each other. 'Well, my dear,' he said. 'Shall we taste the wine?' They tasted the wine and gazed past each other, lips pursed. The owner stood with his fingers curled and straining at his cuffs. His jaw muscles flickered with tension, and Luis could hear his teeth make a faint squeak. Luis began to be afraid.
At last the politician swallowed, and looked into his glass. His wife swallowed, and he glanced sideways at her.
'The boy is wrong,' she said quietly. 'This is not fit even for elephants.'
They put their glasses on the table in front of Luis, and she gave him just the beginnings of a smile. They went out, escorted by the owner, who was thunderous with silence. As he closed the door behind them he turned and snatched up a walking-cane. 'You stinking little bastard streak of whore's-piss," he whispered in case the politician and his wife heard. 'I'm going to cut your ass into strips for that!'
Luis showed him four bottles of the firm's irreplaceable five-star brandy, each bottle individually numbered, dated and signed by a monk who was long since dead. He held two bottles in each hand, like Indian clubs. 'You come near me and I'll smash them all,' he said.
'I'll kill you!' the owner hissed. He realised that the politician and wife were out of earshot. 'I'll kick your filthy guts out!' he roared.
'You were going to do that anyway,' Luis said. His arms were starting to ache. The owner took a sudden step forward and Luis twitched, so that the bottles clinked. The owner froze.
I want a taxi,' Luis said. 'Get it outside the front door with the engine running. When I'm inside it, you can have these back.'
The owner cursed and stamped about the room, while
On the afternoon of Luis's second day in the white coat, the owner received a semi-important local politician and his wife. For half an hour they tasted samples which Luis poured, holding each bottle in a white napkin and demonstrating a small flourish of pride, while the owner released his limited wine-vocabulary a word at a time, like toy balloons: mature . . . discreet , . . robust . . . challenging . . . brave. . .
He opened a fresh bottle and handed it to Luis.
'Now this is something different,' he said. 'Those others are good wines, excellent wines some of them. But this I have kept apart for several years, awaiting . . .' He leaned forward and watched closely as Luis poured. '. . , awaiting a palate which can appreciate the gift of time.'
Luis stiffened. The politician's wife noticed this, and glanced at him. Luis finished pouring, but omitted the usual small flourish.
They raised their glasses and examined the wine. 'Once in a lifetime,' the owner said. 'Perhaps, if God wills it, twice. Ten years ago, when I was privileged to make this discovery, it was so small and so rare that I made the decision that I must bottle it all myself, with these very hands.'
'No you didn't,' Luis said.
Three heads turned and stared. The owner's eyes were sick with rage. Luis tightened his grip on the bottle and breathed deeply.
'Explain yourself,' invited the politician's wife.
'He didn't bottle this stuff ten years ago,' Luis declared. 'I bottled it last week. There's enough of it downstairs to drown an elephant.'
'Get out,' the owner ordered. 'The boy is feeble-minded," he told them, smiling savagely.
'Two elephants,' Luis said. His heart was galloping, squeezing all the air from his lungs.
'Ignore him, the child is drunk,' the owner said. He wanted to grab Luis but Luis had moved behind a table and the owner was afraid of a humiliating chase. 'He is a halfwit, you see. I took him on as a favour, a halfwit, he says these things, stupid meaningless things.' The owner was sweating like old cheese. 'And when I am not looking he drinks. A drunken halfwit.'
'I am not a child,' Luis said evenly. 'I am fifteen years old.' He pressed his thighs against the edge of the table to stop them trembling.
The politician and his wife looked at each other. 'Well, my dear,' he said. 'Shall we taste the wine?' They tasted the wine and gazed past each other, lips pursed. The owner stood with his fingers curled and straining at his cuffs. His jaw muscles flickered with tension, and Luis could hear his teeth make a faint squeak. Luis began to be afraid.
At last the politician swallowed, and looked into his glass. His wife swallowed, and he glanced sideways at her.
'The boy is wrong,' she said quietly. 'This is not fit even for elephants.'
They put their glasses on the table in front of Luis, and she gave him just the beginnings of a smile. They went out, escorted by the owner, who was thunderous with silence. As he closed the door behind them he turned and snatched up a walking-cane. 'You stinking little bastard streak of whore's-piss," he whispered in case the politician and his wife heard. 'I'm going to cut your ass into strips for that!'
Luis showed him four bottles of the firm's irreplaceable five-star brandy, each bottle individually numbered, dated and signed by a monk who was long since dead. He held two bottles in each hand, like Indian clubs. 'You come near me and I'll smash them all,' he said.
'I'll kill you!' the owner hissed. He realised that the politician and wife were out of earshot. 'I'll kick your filthy guts out!' he roared.
'You were going to do that anyway,' Luis said. His arms were starting to ache. The owner took a sudden step forward and Luis twitched, so that the bottles clinked. The owner froze.
I want a taxi,' Luis said. 'Get it outside the front door with the engine running. When I'm inside it, you can have these back.'
The owner cursed and stamped about the room, while
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