Chapter 15 – The Hunt for French Wine
The next morning after croissants and coffee the three were sitting in the vast hotel lobby at 10am, waiting for Monsieur Raconteur. Jacques Raconteur was the father of the young boy whose life Roger saved several years earlier. He was the now retired former CEO of France’s national railroad system, and one of France’s wealthiest citizens. In addition to being a full-time father to a fifteen year old boy (the light of his life), Jacques amused himself and his family and his friends by organizing some of the most glorious aristological events anywhere in the world. An aristological event is very different from an astrological event, aristology being the pursuit of great food and wine and dining, something Roger had learned about when reading the novels of America’s greatest detective writer, Rex Stout. Raconteur owned a great wine cellar and specialized in very old wines. He paired these fine wines with the greatest cooking the chefs of France could produce, and he shared all of this aristological greatness with those he loved and respected. Twice now since the life-saving episode Roger and Gwen had been invited to these events, and they were memorable indeed. One had been in Paris and one in New York City.
Gwen asked Roger about the plan, and Jinny listened. Both had been told to have their bags packed and ready to go. Roger said Jacques was going to drive them to a villa in the Champagne district, which is quite close to Paris. There, Jacques was going to turn them over to one of his assistants and to a special and as yet unidentified friend. The assistant and friend will take Roger and Gwen and Jinny on a tour of the Burgundy and Bordeaux districts, and introduce them to wine producers who, hopefully, will sell them the types of wine Roger is looking for. The great wine search was to last five days or so, which sounded great to Gwen, and better to Little Jinny. Jinny asked if the guy or his assistant would introduce him to some French women. This question, asked out of genuine innocence, and stemming from Jinny’s own brand of straightforwardness, earned him The Stare from Gwen. Jinny asked, “What, what, what’s wrong with that? I am a man in France, for the first time.”
Gwen answered, “You are a man in France on business, and besides, French women, unlike American women, are scared of Russian men.”
“Scared of what, scared of what?” Blistov asked. This got him The Stare again, though a less violent version that the previous one.
Thankfully this exchange was interrupted by the arrival of Jacques, and the introductions. Then they were on their way, and soon were out of the city and into the vineyards of Champagne. In forty-five minutes they ascended a low hill via a cypress tree lined drive and stopped under the portico of a villa. They were whisked inside by assistants, and led back outside to a patio within a courtyard. Seated at a table on the patio were a man and a woman. The woman wore an aqua colored hat, accented with a gold band of ribbon, and a wide brim. She was older than the man. On the table was a wine bucket, a collection of glasses, and a bouquet of flowers. It was a beautiful house and a beautiful courtyard, and gracing the scene was the beautiful woman. Jacques first introduced his assistant as Stephan Villars, and then introduced the woman. He needn’t have made the introduction to Roger and Gwen, because they recognized her. It was Catherine Deneuve. Yes, la femme grande de la France and the film world. Little Jinny Blistov didn’t know the woman from Eve, but within moments this tough Russian hooligan was reduced to quivering jelly. In that, he was like every other man in this woman’s presence. Gwen was shocked when Jinny took Deneuve’s hand and simulated (as was proper) kissing the back of it. This Russian was full of surprises. But that was all he could do. He didn’t know of the woman’s fame, but he knew inherent greatness when he saw it.
Gwen sat first, before the men. Two bottles of 1954 Selosse vintage champagne appeared instantly, and were opened by Jacques. If these bottles appeared on the open marketplace they would go for $5,000 each. Jacque knew this, and Roger knew this. Gwen knew they were something special when she tasted the nectar. Deneuve and Jinny were on opposite ends of the wine spectrum. Deneuve was served wine of this caliber with great regularity. She knew it and appreciated it. For her, this was normal. Jinny never had tasted any liquid this good in his entire life. He refrained from draining the glass in one gulp, knowing instinctively that if he did he would suffer The Stare. Regular applications of this deterrent to bad behavior were having the desired effect, and Gwen was pleased.
Jacques then explained that Mademoiselle Deneuve was the god-mother of his son, and upon hearing that the man who had saved the boy’s life was coming to France, she asked to be introduced. Further, when told that Jacque was organizing a short tour of some great wine estates in Burgundy and Bordeaux, she asked to go along. At this point Deneuve stood up and looked directly at Roger. Instinctively Roger also stood. Deneuve said, “Thank you for giving the child his life, his chance to live his life, his chance to contribute to this wonderful world.” And she walked around the table, removed her wide-brimmed hat, placed her hands on his shoulders, and kissed Roger on both cheeks.
Twice, Gwen had been in Roger’s presence when someone had pointed a gun at him. Have you ever had a loaded gun pointed at you? It’s a stimulating experience. Neither time did Gwen notice the slightest quiver, tremor, or muscular vibration in Roger’s body. He stood solid as a rock. But here, after the innocuous kiss of this woman, Gwen saw Roger’s knees bow slightly outward, and saw the line of his jaw drop and soften the way it often did when they made love. Gwen was amazed at this, amazed. Then she thought of Sean Connery, which provided enlightenment. Wow, she thought, what a great experience for Roger. Jacque, knowing the woman as he did, was amused. Jinny was transfixed. He knew nothing, other than that something special just had happened. Unfortunately, not to him.
So the group drank and enjoyed the unbelievably great champagne in the beautiful courtyard of the villa set among a vineyard that, if put on the market, would fetch several tens of millions of dollars. Jacques explained that he could not accompany the group on their tour, but reiterated that his personal assistant, AND Mademoiselle Deneuve, would. Jacque said Stephan had short lists of wine producers in both districts he thought would be receptive to Roger’s needs, and with this, the tour began.
A Mercedes the size of a battleship was under the portico, and their baggage was put into its trunk. The remains of the second bottle of Selosse found its way into the car as well, along with a chilled spare and a basket of matching food, Jacques not wanting his guests to go thirsty. They were off to Burgundy, a two hour drive away. Settled in the back, Deneuve immediately engaged with Little Jinny Blistov. She told him she had been to Russia three times, and she thought withstanding the siege of Moscow in 1944 and the defeat of the Germans on this front was one of the great achievements of the war. Jinny asked her why she, an actress, knew about Russian war history. She said her father had been killed in the war, so knowing something about it was natural for her. She asked Blistov if it was true that the defeat of the Germans was due to the indomitable spirit of the women of Moscow, and he answered, yes, that was the truth. Russian women, in their way, were just as great as French women. With this statement, Blistov and Deneuve became friends.
Roger and Jinny had received their due, and Gwen now received hers. Gwen told Catherine that hanging in the hallway of their house in Charleston was a framed photograph of her, Catherine. Catherine was more than a little surprised, and asked “why”? Gwen said it was from the front page of the arts section of the New York Times, and had illustrated the newspaper’s review of her film Indochine. Deneuve asked if it was the photo of her in a yellow dress with dark green edging, standing in front of a group of rubber trees on the Vietnamese plantation, where most of the movie had been filmed. Gwen said yes, that was the photo; her in the yellow dress with dark green edging, wearing a hat. Gwen said it was a great photo, and Roger smiled his agreement.
“But why do you have it in your house in Charleston?” asked D
eneuve.
“Because my father was killed very early in the war in Vietnam,” answered Gwen, “and because Indochine was the first movie I ever saw about Vietnam. So the film means something to me.”
They stared at each other, thinking of the similarities in the deaths of their fathers.
The battleship arrived in the small town of Leseur in the heart of Burgundy and the fireworks began. The hotel porter opened the door of the car, saw the woman inside, and fainted into the wet of the street gutter. The next porter, a much younger man, and not so easily influenced by the reputation of the now sixty-seven-year-old Deneuve, got the first porter up, and tended to the group. It was that way for the next four days, whether in Burgundy or Bordeaux, or anywhere else in France, for that matter. Where Deneuve went, older men fainted and acted like fools.
Little Jinny Blistov realized if he was going to be around this sort of thing very much, he would indeed have to earn a lot of money to be able to hire the barbers and clothiers and manicurists necessary to keep him looking presentable. That evening in his hotel room, laying on the bed and staring at the ceiling, his thoughts returned to his mission and his tasks and his partnership responsibilities. He thought long and hard that night. And he wondered what Deneuve looked like when she was twenty.