The Wine Merchant

"Stop!" Jane shouted. "Who are you?"

"I'm Kate, I work here for Tom, the owner. More to the point, who are you, and what are you doing?"

"Tom who?" I asked

"Tom Nolan, he'll be in later. I'm opening the store today."

"Well fuck me," I whispered, and sat down. Beside me, Jane stiffened.

"How long have you worked here?" Jane asked.

"A year, look I'm going to call the police!" She fumbled in her purse pulling out a phone.

I just laughed. "Please do. Christ, the unmitigated gall of the guy. He fucks over my shop and then caps it off by stealing my name."

"Your shop, your name?" Kate looked totally confused.

"Yes, let me introduce myself. I'm Tom, Tom Nolan, this is my shop, and I live upstairs." I got my driver's license from my wallet and showed it to her.

She looked totally confused as she looked at the license to me. "I don't understand, he said he was you." Then she thought about it, "At least when I first met him he introduced himself as Tom, I just assumed he was the Tom Nolan from the shop sign, and he's never corrected me."

When I'd first met Loren, the shop was called Nolan & Son. Loren rebranded the store and our website as 'Tom Nolan, Specialist Wine Merchant ' and that was painted in nine-inch gold letters on the windows on either side of the door.

The shop door opened again, and another woman entered the ship.

"We're not open," I said.

"What's going on Kate?" She asked.

Kate said, "I'm not too sure Ann, this man says he's Tom Nolan, and he's the owner of the shop.

It took some time for Jane and myself to convince the women that I was who I was. And a further thirty minutes for me to understand what had been going on, once I'd got Kate to log me on to the shop's computer.

The fake Tom seemed to have some basic understanding of the wine trade but not the contacts I'd had. The quality of the wine and spirits he'd been offering had been steadily dropping. There was as I'd seen a fair amount of the best wines left but only those that had been in the secure room.

"Oh he never had the key to that room," Kate said when I asked her about that. He tried to get the owner to approve getting a locksmith in to open it, but I know he didn't get it. He was ranting and raving about it for days."

Jane had explained to the two women what had happened to me, and the three of them were steadily restocking the shelves with what was left of the good wine in stock.

I'd phoned around to a few of my old contacts and pulled in a few favours. Now I had the promise of new stock. The first would be delivered that afternoon.

I'd left the closed sign on the door and kept it locked while we all worked on trying to restore the shop to something like its former glory. While we did so Jane and I discussed the issue of where my wife could be. Jane had hoped that there might be a history of her web searches on Loren's laptop as she'd left it behind, but it was it was password protected. I decided to try and see if I could work it out this evening.

By noon we were all hungry, so I ordered pizza, and we all went up to the flat to eat. Neither Kate or Ann had ever been upstairs before. I call it a flat, but in reality, the living accommodation was spread over three floors including an attic we had been converting into a guest apartment. The first floor was one big open plan room with a kitchen and dining area that opened out into an expansive lounge. One corner was my office. After my parents had died, I'd thought about moving, but in the end, I'd decided to remodel and had completely gutted the first floor and had made significant changes to the bedrooms on the second floor. Converting the four old bedrooms into a master and guest with on suite bathrooms. After our marriage, Loren had stamped her unique taste on the flat. She'd thrown out most of my masculine furniture and replaced it with much more comfortable options.

Kate and Ann wandered around and commented on the photos of Loren and me that dotted the walls. I told them the story of how we had met and how great a marriage we'd had.

"Have," insisted Jane. But I noticed a quick flash of apprehension cross her face as she said that. This is the second time this had happened, I was about to question her when there was a loud shout from downstairs.

"Shit, that's Tom ... " Kate exclaimed, her voice faltered as she looked at me.

I led the three women down the stairs and out into the shop. A tall, fair-haired man in his mid-thirties was standing in the middle of the shop floor with his hand on his hips.

His face tightened as he saw me. "Who the fuck are you and what have you done to the shop?"

"If you are who I think you are then you know exactly who I am. You will have seen my photo when you visited my wife at her flat. And as it's my business I can do anything I want to the shop."

His face fell, and now he looked worried, "But ... but you're in the hospital ... in a coma."

I shook my head, "Nope, like Lazarus I have risen from the dead mate. I guess you are the other Tom if that your name, and what I want to know is what the fuck you've been doing to my shop?"

He glanced at Kate and then Ann and finally back at me.

He shrugged his shoulders, "Yah I'm Tom, it's Tom Masters and Loren employed me to manage her business, she told me to do what was needed to keep it going until you got better. I didn't have your contacts so I did the best I could." He looked around the cabinets and display shelves. "Where did you get this stock from?"

"From the stock room. So your name is Masters, not Nolan as the girls thought?"

He shrugged, "I just introduced myself to them as Tom, they assumed I was the same Tom as the name on the shop. I never bothered to correct them as it seemed to give me more authority."

I grunted in response. I thought about the situation, what was I going to do with him? I was sure I was going to keep Kate and Ann on, but I didn't need a manager.

I pulled Jane into the back room. "Do you know what Loren told him when she hired him?"

"She said she needed a manager until you got better, she was always sure you were going to!"

"That's fine, I know what I'm going to do then."

"Don't just fire him, he's not really done anything wrong, and you need to rest."

"I'm not, I'm going to give him two months notice. He can help to restore the businesses reputation, and I'll ask around and see if I can find him a job somewhere else."

She smiled at me, and that's what I told him. He took it better than I expected. He indicated that he'd always been aware that it was a temporary job. Either I was going to get better or if not he'd guessed that Loren would have sold the business. He was pleased with my offer to try and find him a job.

Jane and I left them to carry on returning the shop to its former glory and to deal with the deliveries I was anticipating, and we returned to the flat upstairs. Jane bustled about unpacking the suitcases of Loren's clothes she bought over from her flat.

On the table was a box and when I peered inside, I found her favourite photographs of us. The box also held a few of her favourite ornaments, mostly those that I had bought for her. At the bottom, in a soft cloth bag, I found the little stylised wooden cat, the size of my fist. It had always sat on the table beside her side of the bed ever since I'd given it to her on our honeymoon.

Jane spotted it sitting in my hand. "It was the last thing she would see before she fell asleep, and the first as she woke up. She says it's her most precious memory of you."

I nodded in understanding, I'd seen a couple of pieces by the same artist in a gallery in Brighton, and they pointed me in the direction of his studio in a small village half an hour away. He'd turned out to be a furniture maker who shared his studio space with his artist wife. He showed me several pieces and the cat seemed to leap off the shelf at me. He grinned when he saw my face and gave it to me. He wouldn't take any money for it saying that when a piece found its home he always gave it away. When I'd given it to Loren, she'd glowed the same way I had, and since that day it had lived beside our bed.

The thoughts I'd been having crystallised, "Jane, there's something about this holiday of Loren's that you aren't telling me isn't there." I asked.

She nodded, "She's been so sad this past two years, you know she blames herself for the accident, don't you? She's convinced if she hadn't called out to you, you would never have stepped out in front of that bloody car."

"Why would she think that it was my fault, I never looked."

"I know, we've all tried to tell her that, but she's sure it's her fault. So when the 'switch you off' business all blew up and Rachael told her to go away to think, she was so worried that she wouldn't know what to do that I told her that she needed to put you and your relationship into perspective. To think about how she would cope with you finally gone. Maybe try a holiday romance. She needed to understand that there was a possibility of a life after you ..." She realised just what she'd just said and put her hand over her mouth.

She hurriedly said, "I'm sorry that sounded so callous but she hasn't been out with anyone but me, and if a man approached her, she'd completely ignore them." I could see the truth in her eyes.

I told her not to worry then asked, "So you've no idea where she could be?"

She shook her head, "The only thing I remember was that she mentioned a place of her dreams, I remembered her talking about seeing Antarctica, so I guessed a cruise. I've checked with every company, but she's not on any manifest."

"Fuck," I said. I was desperately trying to recall any particular place, but over the years we'd talked about visiting so many places that none stood out. She'd been gone nearly two weeks, and she wasn't expected back for at least another two. Had she already found a lover, was she in bed with him as we spoke?

My head was pounding, and I was exhausted, and I must have staggered because Jane was suddenly by my side holding me up.

"You need to sleep, you're still weak, and you have been overdoing it today."

She led me to the bedroom and pointed at the bed. "Lie down and rest. I'll deal with the shop and see if I can crack the password on her laptop."

I was grateful to lie down, and I was soon asleep. I woke briefly at some point in the middle of the night and felt a warm presence lying on top of the covers beside me. I drew a cover over Jane and fell back to sleep.

Jane had no luck in breaking Loren's password and offered to take it to her office IT guru and see what he could do.

~~~~~<>~~~~

It was two days before Jane brought the laptop back and handed it to me with a big smile.

I had spent those days re-contacting all my old suppliers, trying to restock the store. Then based on their promises, I was on the phone to the best of my old customers to let them I was back.

Nearly all the calls went the same way: a sigh of relief that I was back, a brief enquiry about my health, quickly followed by a demand for a specific wine or spirit. I was grateful that I could fill almost all their requests and promised to ship out their orders by a courier the next day.

I got Kate and Ann to pack up those items we had ready for the courier to pick up. The stock room shelves were looking rather sad and bare. I'd be glad when the stock I'd been promised arrived. A quick glance at the website had shown that it was no longer being maintained and the only screen the customers could see just gave a site under maintenance message. I spent a long few hours recovering the data and refreshing the site.

"You'll never guess what the damn password was," she joked as I switched the laptop on.

"Go on then, I'll bite."

"INEEDANEWDAMNPASSWORD."

"I know I'll need to set a new one," I said exasperatedly.

"No, that's what she used. INEEDANEWDAMNPASSWORD, all caps." She said with a broad grin.

"Oh for fuck's sake. Why would she use that?"

"Because I was going on at her to change her 'damn password'. I kept on at her to change all her passwords after someone tried to hack her bank account. I guess it was her idea of a joke at herself. Mike has changed it to 'loren101', he said there's a note with the rest of her passwords in her documents file."

"Have you looked to see if there's any clue as to where she's gone?"

She shook her head, "He only gave it back to me just before I left."

Our heads almost collided as we both peered at the screen as the laptop booted up. We checked Loren's email, and I sat up. There were several emails to and from an online travel agency which raised our hopes. Only to be quickly dashed when they turned out to be enquiries from several months ago. It looked like she been researching a trip as a thirty-fifth wedding present for her parents. We couldn't see any new questions or any confirmations.

It took us a while, but finally, Jane found a web search for a travel agency that specialised in last minute bookings. It looked like she'd saved the address. I looked it up, and it was only a street away from the auction house.

Jane called them first thing in the morning, but they wouldn't give us any information other than to confirm they'd had an enquiry from a Mrs Nolan a couple of weeks ago.

It took us most of the morning to convict the manager to give us any information. I had to get him to call Rachael at the hospital to confirm that I was who I was and my situation. Finally, he agreed that if I took my passport to their office, as well as both of our birth, and our wedding certificates, he'd let us see Loren's booking.

"She wanted to leave that day if possible," the manager told us when we sat down in his office. I'd offered him the documents to check, and he'd given them a cursory look.

"I checked with the local police, they confirmed your story," he said. "Your wife came in looking very upset ..."

"Yah," interrupted Jane, "They wanted to switch off his life support. The doctor you spoke to, insisted she go away to think about it."

"Ahh, that explains it," he mused. "Well, we were able to create something close to what she wanted. Twelve days in a resort in the Maldives and followed by a further two weeks at an all-inclusive resort in Mauritius. She flew out the following evening."

"Damn, that's right. We talked about a second honeymoon either there or Mauritius." I said.

He checked the schedule. "So long as she didn't change anything, your wife should have arrived in Mauritius three, no four days ago. Why don't we call her, I have the phone number of the resort."

I tried and got through to the reception quite quickly. But that was as far as I got. Loren had left strict instructions that she was not to be disturbed, especially if the call was from the UK and mentioned my name or the hospitals. It seemed that she'd taken Rachael's advice to be non-contactable to heart. Jane tried, but it seemed my call had alerted them and she got no further than I had.

There really wasn't another option left to me. "I need the next flight to Mauritius," I told him.

Jane put her hand on my arm. "We know where she is and that's she's safe," she said. "Don't you think it's wiser to wait for her to come home than go chasing after her. We can get a message to her via the embassy or something."

"And how long will that take? I could be there tomorrow morning. I'm going to take the flight."

"You have to have a room as well," he pointed out.

"So book me in at the same place as my wife."

He found a British Airways flight leaving from Gatwick in six hours, but I had to buy a business class seat. You'd have thought I was buying the bloody plane the cost of the ticket.

"The return flights the same one we booked for your wife. There are no vacant rooms in the main part of the resort, but they do have a beachside villa that's free."

"I'll take it," I told him.

I was forced to use the business credit card as my own were out of date, and I hadn't yet received their replacements. And I almost maxed it out with the bill. Fortunately, I could pick up a pre-loaded credit card and some cash at the bank after I managed to prove who I was to the manager and he gave me access to our joint accounts.

While I was dealing with the bank, Jane had driven back to the flat and packed me a small bag. I would only need the bare necessities. Anything missing I should be able to buy at the resort. She was going to meet me at the airport to hand it over.

I made a taxi-drivers day as I gave him £200 to get me to the airport. The drive took the best part of an hour, and Jane was waiting for me at the British Airways check-in desk.

I gave her a quick kiss as she handed me my bag. She also put a new smartphone in my hand. Mine had been damaged beyond repair in the accident, and I'd forgotten to get a replacement.

"I knew that you hadn't got a new one, call me when you get there," she told me. "I've programmed all the numbers I think that you are going to need." I thanked her and slipped it into my pocket.

She waved goodbye as I joined the queue to pass through security. But I was disturbed that when I glanced back, she was looking far more anxious than I was expecting.

This should be easy; Loren was hiding from the world because she needed to make what I guessed was the darkest decision of her life. My task was simple in comparison; find her and watch the look of happiness grow as she realised I was awake and kicking and she didn't need to make that decision.

If Jane was looking worried, then maybe so should I. It had been well over two weeks since Loren had left. Did Jane think that I wouldn't find Loren on her own? Was that why she had suggested I wait for Loren to come home?"

I sat down on the seat full of anxiety. The flight was over twelve hours. Was Loren lying in another man's arms while I was going to be stuck in this long tube of humanity? The trouble was how could I blame her if she was. As far as she was convinced, I was as near as damn it dead without being actually dead.

My body still needed to recover, and I was exhausted. I'd been pushing it hard over the past few days. Not surprisingly I fell asleep soon after the flight took off and was only woken by the flight attendant when we were a less than an hour from our destination.

A driver was holding a sign with my name on it to greet me as I exited the arrivals hall into the morning sunlight. It was nine o'clock and yet the air was already hot and moist. I was almost immediately dripping in sweat and feeling quite uncomfortable. The drive to the resort took an hour, and I was grateful that the car was air-conditioned.

We drove across the island towards the west coast on winding roads. Past fields of green sugarcane, that were bordered with piles of rust coloured volcanic rocks. If I hadn't been so anxious at what I might find when we arrived, I probably would have enjoyed the beautiful scenery far more than I did. As it was, I stared out of the window as it passed by without actually registering it.

"Are you looking forward to your holiday sir," the driver broke into my contemplation.

"It's not really a vacation," I replied. "I'm trying to find someone. It was a very last minute booking, I don't even know what type of place it is!"

I think he misunderstood me. "Oh, you will enjoy yourself, sir. Coral Cove is the best couples resort on the island, and there are usually a few single women staying who are looking for some company."

Fuck, that's not what I wanted to hear.

We pulled into the resort along a driveway that bisected a golf course. It wasn't a huge place, I gathered from the driver that there were just over one hundred rooms in four, two-story buildings that spread out in across from the main building that housed the reception, restaurants, bars and nightclub. A further twenty villas similar to the one I'd booked, were scattered about the grounds.