Eva Mazza - Sex, Lies & Stellenbosch

Leonard didn’t seem to notice, and he gestured for her to sit. “Listen, Jen, things seem to have unfolded at a rapid pace. Sharon said you’d like to file for divorce.”

“Yes,” Jen said. “I’d like you to work on an interim settlement.”

“Okay, we can talk about that in detail later.”

Jen nodded, holding her breath. It seemed that Leonard had much more on his mind that he wished to divulge.

“I’m really sorry to hear of the death of Lee Holms. He was a client of ours, so we are distraught, to say the least.”

“A client here?” Jen said confused. John, Lee and all their friends used Grant van Rooyen, an old friend and firmly entrenched Stellenbosch local, as their lawyer.

“Well, we are one of the firms that represent him, and this is where things have really ‘developed’, unbeknown to us. I hope that this isn’t a conflict of interest, but another person we represent is Patty Klein.” Jen looked back at Leonard blankly.

“Patty, your husband’s former employee?”

What? Jen shifted uncomfortably. “I’m not sure how this would be a conflict of interest unless I want to sue her, which I don’t. I want to sue my husband for a divorce. She happens to be one of his many, um, liaisons, and the fact that you represent her is a coincidence to say the least. Why would this be a conflict of interest?”

“Well, we have been instructed by Ms Patty Klein to approach you regarding a matter that involves you. She was instructed to oversee this matter by your late friend, Lee Holms.”

Jen didn’t have the foggiest notion what Leonard was going on about. She wasn’t registering what he was saying, and she wasn’t really interested for that matter. All she wanted was to get on with the discussions around her divorce and be done with Patty. She realised that she felt absolutely nothing for the woman; except perhaps minuscule gratitude. If not for Patty, she would still be the pitiful wife of John Pearce.

“You’re talking in riddles, Leonard. It’s been quite an emotional few days, so I’m not sure if it’s that or if I’m just plain stupid. I’m sorry, but I really don’t understand what you’re trying to say to me.”

“Jen, Patty is the one who delivered the photos of your husband to our offices. We didn’t know this up until this morning. She was instructed to do this by her employer, Lee Holms. Following his death, she now has the awkward task of handling his ‘business’ affairs, which coincidentally involves you.”

At that moment, Angie walked in with Jen’s espresso. Jen gulped it down, scalding her tongue.

Leonard waited until she’d finished before continuing. “I’m really asking your permission to allow Patty to speak with you. If you would prefer another lawyer to handle your divorce, then you are well within your rights. Patty, through Lee, was our client before you, though, so we are legally bound to her. We are able to represent you, but that is only if you do not feel that this will pose a conflict.”

Jen squared her shoulders; she needed to get to the bottom of whatever was going on.

“Leonard, I’m still confused. Patty is Lee’s employee? How can that be when, up until Sunday, she worked for my husband?”

“It is a little complicated, and that is why it’s best if she explains to you directly what has been going on and why she has been instructed to take care of her employer’s business, which, as I have said, involves you. When you asked me to represent you, I had absolutely no idea that Lee Holms was a friend, and even if he were, it would’ve been of no consequence, until his death yesterday.”

“God!” Jen exclaimed. “What ‘business’ could Lee have with me? And why do I have to deal with her? Can I not just deal with her lawyer?”

“I suppose you could. But she has insisted she speak to you directly, with representation of course. That is why I have scheduled our meeting in the boardroom.”

Jen sighed.

“Is that an okay?” Leonard asked gently.

“Do I have a choice? She is, as you pointed out, a client of yours. As a matter of interest, where do I stand? Am I still your client?”

“You most definitely are if you decide after this meeting that you would still like me to represent you.”

“Well, let’s see; if there’s a ‘conflict’, as you put it, then you’ll have to refer me to someone else.”

As she spoke, Jen could see Patty walking towards the boardroom through the glass panelling along one wall. She didn’t look like the Patty Jen knew. She walked with a stoop. Her hair had been pulled back from her unmade face and her eyes were puffy and red, evidence that she had been crying. Jen felt a spurt of sympathy. She knew this was crazy, but Patty looked so alone and sad. So vulnerable. How was this even possible?

Pete hadn’t expected such a big gathering on Frankie’s farm that Thursday; all her book club friends were rallying around her. His mother was conspicuous in her absence. He briefly joined the men, huddled in Lee’s den with Rita, Lee’s faithful bookkeeper, making funeral arrangements and discussing the future of Holms Wine Estate, trading as HWE Wines, and how they could assist Frankie in organising the running of the business until Clive was ready to take over.

Typical of Lee that everything is already in place, Pete thought . Hennie, the farm’s respected and loyal winemaker who had been in Lee’s employ for the last fifteen years, and who was very much in charge of production on the farm, would continue to do what he had won awards doing: produce internationally acclaimed wines. As far as the vineyards were concerned, Lee had promoted Sarel to farm manager five years ago, as he had proved to be another loyal and committed worker. He had since done a sterling job taking care of the labourers and the vineyards, making sure that everything◦– planting, spraying and harvesting the grapes◦– happened right on time, and to Lee’s high standards. As far as the marketing and business side was concerned, Lee had been grooming his son, Clive, for that role, but most of the admin was handled by Rita, a seemingly sweet little old lady, clad in a hand-knitted pastel-coloured jumper, who was not as benign as she seemed. Lee had inherited her with the farm, so she knew how to handle most things independently of her boss. She also saw to the wine reps and the sales and tasting staff, and boy, did they fear her wrath if anything went wrong.

The men agreed that, for the time being, Frankie would be okay. Lee had seen to it that the farm practically ran itself. All Frankie needed was time and a little guidance so that she could steer the boat until Clive had finished his studies.

Pete hadn’t had a chance to sympathise with Clive, who suggested that he give up university to take over the business full-time. He could study through correspondence. Most of the men insisted that he complete his studies, that Lee would have wanted it that way.

The discussion over Clive’s future choices irritated Pete as he was, after all, old enough to make his own decision. He took this opportunity to make his exit.

His friend acknowledged him by a slight nod of his head as he made his way to the door. Clive was a mixture of both his parents: tall like his dad, yet with an athletic build that Frankie always attributed to her good genes. He was lucky enough to have been blessed with his father’s blue eyes and Frankie’s sex appeal, which, although she wasn’t on Pete’s list of favourite people, he had to concede she possessed. The two boys would socialise occasionally, and he had seen first hand how popular he was amongst the girls.

Unlike Pete, Clive had always been very close to both his parents. His father had taught him to show respect to everyone and he had developed a kindness and compassion that was way beyond his years. And, although he was aware of his mother’s egocentric ways, he loved her just the same. He had often said that Frankie wouldn’t be Frankie if she was the kind and nurturing woman people expected a mother to be.