“What’s wrong?” Vincent asked looking over his brother’s shoulder to where Father stared agitatedly at his brother’s retreating back, “I mean what’s wrong, now!”

“Ask him!” Two pairs of voices of equal tempo replied, “He started it as usual.” Devin added, turning to glare at his parent. “You know him Vin. He doesn’t change, he’ll never accept me and that’s final.”

“That’s not true.” Father hobbled across to where his two sons were propping up the entranceway, “I do accept you, I just cannot accept some things that you do.”

“Well, I’ve news for you Pop, this is my life, and I’ll darn well live it as I see fit.” Devin glared at his father his chest heaving, and Vincent knew it was time for him to mediate.

“Look, sit down the both of you, I’m sure we can iron this out. Tell me what its about.”

“Its Devin, he swans in here expecting we should throw a party or something for his generosity and expects that we ought to be grateful.” Father snapped.

“What generosity?” Vincent asked perplexed.

“I’ve brought some liquor with me…some wine. I thought you could all do with a little tipple now and again. Its good for the blood you know.” He aimed the latter at his father.

“But why would you think such a thing, why would you bring it here to us?” Vincent felt he was missing something.

“That’s what I want to know!” Father retorted angrily.

“If you’d have let me explain you would know!”

Vincent could see they were getting nowhere fast, and he greatly feared for his father’s heart. Stress at his age could be detrimental to his health.

“So explain…not that it will make any difference…you know I forbid alcohol in the tunnels…and you want to give it to the children!”

“You’re giving it to the children?” Vincent was stunned.

“Not the alcoholic stuff! Do you think I’m that stupid?”

Father said nothing.

In desperation, Devin drew in and exhaled a deep sigh, before turning to Vincent to explain, hoping here he would get a receptive audience. “Where I live, elder grows in dense profusion. I know dad likes elderflower wine, so I made him some.” At that Devin noted with glee that his father’s mouth dropped wide open and stayed so.

“I also collected up and brought with me a sack of elderflowers for William to make elderflower lemonade for the kids down here. Its great stuff, well you know Vincent, you’ve had some.”

Vincent remembered, “Yes and it was delicious. You are forgetting though that we all enjoyed it so much that we fought over the last bottle.”

“I’m not forgetting. And I had planned for that. If Catherine could get everyone’s names printed up I thought I would attach one name to each bottle, so that no one had anymore than the next person and I’d do the same with the wine.”

“Well that sounds reasonable. So what was the problem?” Vincent looked to his father trying to understand, but it was Devin that replied, “He as usual, jumped right on in, feet first and asked questions later. Actually that’s not strictly true, he asked no reasonable questions at all.”

“You didn’t explain yourself…” Father began and was cut short by his son’s retort, “You, as usual never gave me a chance!”

“Enough!” Vincent half cried half growled, as he took his brother’s elbow and led him from the chamber, “We’ll go see William and then Catherine. I’m sure she will be only too delighted to help. How many bottles have you actually brought with you?” Vincent chuckled.

Watching them go, Father sat down in his best chair. Why oh why were he and Devin always at loggerheads? Maybe the answer lay in the both of them being too much alike. Each was just as plain stubborn as the other. Well Father hoped to change that, first chance he got he would apologise. Elderflower wine…mmm…now that was worth eating humble pie for.

“Mary…here’s your bottle, I understand you preferred the lemonade, and Catherine here’s yours, the wine if I am right? And Vincent too, wine I believe? Pascal...lemonade…Cullen…wine, Jamie…wine…now be careful of that, its pretty potent.” Devin winked at her and Jamie laughed.

“So that’s about it then, one more bottle to go, and its for…” Devin squinted at the label and pretended he couldn’t see what it said. “I don’t know, I can’t read this one. Who hasn’t had any?” A dozen hands shot up making everyone laugh. However, Father’s hand was not among them. He felt very much as if Devin was playing a cat and mouse game with him and he would not give him the satisfaction.

“Let me see.” Vincent took the bottle from Devin, “It hasn’t even got a name on it.”

“It has.” Devin pointed to the lettering, and after a moment’s puzzlement Vincent began to chuckle, “Oh yes very apt Devin… he’s gonna kill you!” He whispered for only Devin to hear.

“I believe this one is for you, Father.” Vincent handed his parent the bottle of wine.

At last! Happily, Father took the bottle from his son, eyeing Devin sceptically. Something was amusing him and Father felt like he was the object of that amusement.

He turned the bottle over and over, while trying to decide how Vincent knew that it was for him. There was no fancy label on it with his name on. “How do you know this one is mine?” Father directed at Vincent.

Vincent chuckled, and looking in Devin’s direction asked, “Shall you tell him or shall I?”

“You tell him.” Devin replied, “I’m outta here.” And he was gone.

“Coward.” Vincent laughed, then pointing to the words on the bottle made quick his own exit before following his brother out of the chamber at a steady trot.

Father read and re-read the label, as the others in the room waited with sheepish expectation. Any minute now, any minute now…

“DEVIN!”

Devin and Vincent clutched at their sides laughing just beyond the chamber, “He’s realised then?” Devin asked.

“Seems so.” Vincent replied. “You do realise this has done little to repair the damage done between the two of you?”

“So what, the silly old git, he deserves it. Whine, whine, whine, that’s all he ever does. I thought it was rather apt in the circumstances.” Devin laughed heartily. If he wasn’t such a coward at that moment he would have loved risking a peep at his father’s face right now. Still he could imagine, he’d witnessed it more than enough already.

Back inside the chamber, Father was beginning to see the funny side of it. It still peeved him, but after a glass or two of his most delicious, favourite wine, he was feeling more amicable and ready to accept the practical joke. He was not however, prepared to share it with the rest of the community, as wanting to know what had happened each came and turned the bottle to see for themselves what the label actually said. Picking up the bottle she read the words aloud and with lips twitching told the patriarch of the tunnels, “Oh Father, I’m sure Devin didn’t mean it.” Knowing full well he did.” Well that is I’m sure he didn’t mean it the way that it sounds. Perhaps he is just honouring your status down here, after all to be Vintage is to be valuable.”

“You say the nicest things my dear, but I’m sure that son of mine meant it exactly as it sounds, after all if not why did he put an ‘H’ in it?”

Catherine looked closer, she’d missed that, but he was right. Proving he was sharper than her in eyesight at least and she too began to laugh and laugh, and laugh like she might never stop, and happy to see that Father, despite himself was finding it extremely funny himself now, after another glass of the delectable liquid.

And all too soon it was empty and Father feeling decidedly merry tried to think more optimistically about the name written upon the label. Perhaps his son did have a point, perhaps he did find fault too often, perhaps he did judge all too soon…but even so, surely, surely he was not that… no he was never that…Father was sure of it.

For a certainty he was never a Vintage Whine!

(Footnote from Devin:)
‘I beg to differ Pops.’