And then the rain came.
Not the light, summer rain that falls on warm breezes or the gentle precipitation that refreshes on hot, humid days. This rain drove down in torrential sheets that obliterated the horizon.
This was the third day of bad weather. The chateaux stood grim and stark against the grey morning clouds and the fruit orchards that surrounded the once grandiose building had been transformed into muddy quagmires, their produce laying rotting in the rank soil.
Pierre Goulet peered inquisitively out of the stable-style kitchen door. Not a pleasant man to start with, the rain that splashed his ruddy, lined face darkened his mood even further. But as his beady eyes scanned the horizon he could see a break in the dark clouds. He stared up to the heavens and felt the rain splash his face again; if he were not much mistaken the unwelcomed downfall seemed to have eased a little. Maybe there would be some fruit picking today after all!
Goulet's attention turned to the rickety barn to the east of the chateaux, and more importantly to the inhabitant therein. The Australian; a youthful lad in his early twenties with light sun-bleached hair and strong arms, Clive had arrived at the chateaux a week ago looking for casual work. As he always did, Goulet hired the young traveller and put him up in the barn but the weather - that arrived only three days after Clive did - had prohibited and form of fruit picking and the young man had filled his days moping around the grounds of the chateaux. This wouldn't really have bothered Goulet all that much, but the Australians' tours would almost always bring him into contact with Goulets' wife Monika.
As Goulet strode purposefully towards the barn his mind turned to thoughts of his young wife. Monika had been trouble to him since the day he married her. He had no doubt that it had been the money and the chateaux that had attracted a woman nearly half his age but Goulet cared little. He considered the lithe beauty part of his personal property and he had her all to himself!
Goulet entered the barn without knocking and found Clive sitting on the edge of his bed-roll smoking and reading a paperback. The smoke from the pungent cigarette drifted lazily into the still, dark air and half masked the young mans face as he turned.
"Weather's breaking." Said Goulet simply. "Should be some work today."
Goulet watched as the young man turned slowly from his book and smiled warmly. He was far too pleasant and Goulet would have sacked him had it not been so important to get the crop of grapes in as soon as possible. The rain had put him several days behind and he would need all the hands he could get if the entire harvest was not to be lost.
"Be ready by lunchtime!" Goulet finished abruptly and, turning on his heel, walked back out of the barn.
Clive smiled to himself and returned to his book. He really didn't care that much if there was work or not; he had a dry place to stay and was quite content to spend his days reading and exploring the local sights - it had been a bonus that the local sights included the lovely Monika. Not that Clive had yet been indiscreet - not yet, anyway - but that was just for the want of opportunity. The lovely wife of his rather obnoxious boss had made it quite clear that she was not uninterested in his advances but every time the opportunity had arisen, so had Pierre Goulet, and the moment had been lost. But Clive wasn't concerned; he would only be around for another few days and there would be plenty of other beautiful women on his travels!
As instructed, Clive presented himself for work at 1pm. The clouds had been breaking up all morning and now rich, warm rays of sunshine bathed the landscape. There were several other itinerant workers that had reported for duty and Monika was also present showing off her wonderfully sexy body in a halter top and a pair of tight cut-off shorts. Clive could feel a restlessness at his groin and thoughts of picking grapes were pushed firmly to the back of his mind while he planned on how to get closer to the vision of beauty.
The work was back-breakingly exhausting. The rain had turned the rich soil to ankle-deep mud that clung to Clive's boots and slowed his progress to a crawl. The hot sun that now shone without interruption parched his throat. After an hour and a half of feverish toil, Clive stomped his way wearily towards the clearing which had been set up to provide bottles of water. He sighed heavily as he tipped the entire contents of the water bottle down his dry throat.
"You look like you needed that!" Said a voice behind him.
Clive wheeled around to see Monika standing close. The lower parts of her legs were spattered with mud and her long, black hair was matted. Clive handed her another bottle of water and watched as her soft lips parted to tip the contents into her mouth. He felt the stirring in his loins again and wished that, rather than the bottle, those lips were wrapped around a certain hard piece of his anatomy!
"Ah! That's better!" Monika said licking the water from her lips, "Clive, why are you looking at me like that?"
Clive hadn't realised that his stare had been so obvious. He had been lost in a world of his own as he let his eyes feast on the beauty that stood before him.
"Why do you think, Monika?" he replied with a grin, "you're a very beautiful woman!"
Pierre Goulet had been watching his young worker for the last half hour. He had toiled well, picking more grapes than any of the other farm hands and Goulet had not been surprised when the young man had returned to the clearing for some liquid refreshment. But Pierre had been suspicious. He had been suspicious every time that Clive had been in the vicinity of his wife over the last three days and this time had decided to follow him.
Goulet had managed to secrete himself behind a plantation of trees just outside the clearing and had watched the young foreigner as he quenched his thirst. But as Monika joined him at the water table, it wasn't the young man's thirst for water that now concerned Pierre.
The two were chatting amiably enough. Goulet was close enough to be able to hear what was being said but well hidden enough not to be discovered. There was a closeness between the man and woman that couldn't be denied - almost like an electrical charge. They stood near enough to touch and the air seemed full of sexual tension.
"I mean it," Clive continued, the charm oozing from him like vital fluid. "You are an extremely beautiful woman; incredibly sexy!"
