As we walked toward the kitchen with our dinner dishes in the late evening, Catherine pointed to a short curl of fax paper from the machine. She tore it off and, noting it was from Lynn, handed it to me. I paused to read it through while she carried on into the kitchen. Then I sat silently, letting things spin through my mind, before reading it again.

"What is it, David, something wrong?" she asked as she came back.

"No, it's just something that has set my mind spinning. So many things all over the place, confusing, conflicting thoughts."

"What's it about?"

"Lynn says Corgram have proposed buying my importing company and merging it with theirs. They also want to engage me as their purchasing consultant."

"That's wonderful. I think more ear checking is needed; they're probably full of four-leaf clovers."

"The company was not just dumb luck like the barge. This one's the result of long, hard work. It took me a long time to build it, to invent ways to do things, to push government regulations, to max out multiple credit cards while waiting for the next chunk of money to come in. No luck involved there."

"No, I mean for me. This is good luck for me."

"For you? I don't follow."

"Accept the offer, sell, stay here with me ..." She paused and tilted her head. "Maxing out on credit cards? That doesn't sound like your normally wise financial management. Why didn't you get bank financing for the company?"

"I had no credit rating. I had never borrowed; I never had any need to. When I applied, I was denied because I was considered an unknown risk. We have a strange banking system. Now, with the company prosperous and financially healthy, with no need for their money, the banks keep badgering me to borrow from them – to set up lines of credit."

I read the fax again and stared blankly as my mind whirled. We sat at the mahogany table, and Catherine's eyes seemed to bore into my head, trying to see what was going on.

"They want to buy me, and I see why. For a long while, I've known my growth is diminishing their sales – and those of others."

"Does it say how much they're offering?"

"No, they want to meet with me and discuss the details, negotiate. But, that's not what's what's making the most noise in my head right now."

"Something else in the letter?"

"No, not that – it's what you said a short while ago about staying here with you. That has put a lot more things spinning."

"Don't you want to stay?"

"I realised a few minutes ago that I've never really thought about staying. I've stayed simply through circumstance. I stayed to offer you my support. Now, trying to think of anything but staying is ... is ..."

"Well, that's easy then." She picked up my arm and pulled me toward her. "Stop your mind spinning. Stay."

"I need to set this aside. I need to let my head clear. The dinner dishes can wait. Let's go to bed and do something to distract me."

Tuesday 13 May 1986

I had spent until mid-morning on Monday lying in bed with Catherine, exercising, cuddling and dream-storming. Then I got up and started drafting a reply to Lynn, outlining in punchy sentences what I needed done: Tell Corgram I'm looking favourably at the offer and will be back in Vancouver next week with an open schedule. Phone Edith at CP and book the first available seats from the 17th onward out of Amsterdam; the other passenger is Catherine Ducroix. Call Estella to have her take the dust covers off and give the loft a good cleaning. Tell her to put twice the standard amount of items in the fridge the day we arrive. Buy a two-week pass to Expo or a couple of one-week passes or whatever, I already hold a season pass.

I read the draft twice, the second time aloud to Catherine, and then typed it out and put it through the fax machine.

"Passport? I hadn't thought of your passport. Do you have a valid one?"

"No, I don't have one." Catherine paused and gave me an impish grin. "I have two – my Irish and my French, and both recently renewed. I did them a few months ago when I was hoping to convince Louis to take a break and go travelling."

"I love travelling. Let's phone Grattien and ask him the best way to get out of here safely and on our way to Amsterdam."

"I don't understand why we're flying from Amsterdam. Paris is much closer, Geneva is even closer than Paris."

"Canadian Pacific Airlines doesn't fly to France or Switzerland. Air Canada has that monopoly from Canada."

"Why don't we fly Air Canada, then?"

"I will always go far out of my way to avoid flying Air Canada. They're the national airline, a government-owned subsidiary. Their service and attitude are horrid, condescending and privileged – like many other things related to unionised government employees. The Civil Service is uncivil."

"Worth a detour, as Michelin says, but a detour away from." Catherine chuckled. "What's this expo thing? Passes?"

"Vancouver's hosting a huge fair this year, celebrating its hundredth birthday. A five-month party along the shores of False Creek, which until the fair was a crumbling, polluted industrial backwater in the heart of the expanding city. The idea for the party started half a dozen years ago as a local celebration, and it has dramatically grown into a World's Fair. Last time I looked, more than fifty countries were participating, with over seventy pavilions and exhibits.

"The loft where I live – I've spoken with you and Louis about it before. It's less than two blocks away from the entrance gate, in an old industrial building I bought when the area was dying. I converted half the top floor to my home and office ... We've got to phone Grattien."

Grattien was quiet as I outlined my intentions, then he said, "We can take you in an unmarked car to the station in Dijon, swapping cars in our garage in Gevrey on the way in case we're followed from here. We'll have the TGV tickets purchased in advance, and we'll stand with you on the platform until departure. Then, someone will meet you at Gare de Lyon and drive you to Gare du Nord, and see you aboard the train to Lille and onward to Amsterdam. A simple operation. Good idea to get out of the country for a while. When do you want to go?"

"I've asked for flights from the 17th onward, so we'll leave here from Friday morning onward, depending on what my airline agent can book. There should be a reply from Vancouver overnight."

"On the name changes in the cadastre, we have found deeds of transfer to Philippe Grotkopf, signed by Louis Ducroix, Pierre Ducroix and Francine Grotkopf. They are hand-drawn, not witnessed or notarised, but unless they are challenged, they stand. We have taken photocopies of them, and a search of the entire cadastre has been ordered to look for similar documents. We need to compare the signatures to genuine ones."

"I have all the bank records here, Louis' signature is on the cheques with mine. I may have a letter from Francine – no, much better – I have the negotiated cheques in an archive, there'll be endorsements on their annual shareholder cheques. I'll start digging those out."

"Good, I can come by and pick them up tomorrow morning. Croissants again?"

"That would be nice, but we must pay you for them."

"And I must give the money back for all the coffee." He laughed and then clicked off.

The next task on my list was to organise with the boatyard to continue gutting Vrouwe Catharina, so I phoned Atelier Fluvial and explained what I wanted. "Repair the bent frames, re-plate her bottom, and when she's ready to safely refloat, put her in the basin and complete the gutting of her interior down to the bare ribs. All wiring, all plumbing, everything out."

The yard owner said, "We need a signed work order, and we must see your clear title to the barge. The insurance company is involved."

"I accepted their settlement offer yesterday morning and bought the salvage rights. Michel Poirier from AXA said he would be sending you the documents. They'll probably arrive in tomorrow's mail. As for signing the work order, I can't leave here; we're still under the protection of the gendarmes."

"Yes, I have heard from several about your recent adventures ... I can draw up a work order and drive over with it. You are near Gevrey? Where exactly?"

"The Beaux-Arts château, the first building in Morey-Saint-Denis as you come down the small road from Gevrey."

"I know that château, very pretty, impossible to miss."

"Even more so now with the gendarme guards at the gate. When will you come? I can tell the guards to expect you."

"How is ten tomorrow morning?"

"Perfect."

After I had clicked off, I looked at my list again. "Only one big thing left to do." Looking at my watch, I continued, "Sitrep at seventeen hundred. Let's have lunch and relax until then."

"Sitrep?"

"Situation report. This was a regular practice in the Navy – meeting with all department heads to review progress, problems, and observations and build a picture of the current situation. From this, decisions and plans for follow-up action were made. This is why I suggested we start the daily meetings."

She nodded. "Makes sense that all hear from the others. That we're all on the same page."

"Exactly the intention."

Later, at the meeting, after each in turn had given a sitrep, I outlined our proposed trip to Vancouver without filling in any details. Then, looking at Loic and across to Jean-Paul, I asked, "Which of you wants to be in charge while we're gone?"

"He's more the manager." Loic nodded across the table to Jean-Paul. "I'm the artist."

"Well, Jean-Paul?" Catherine asked. "What do you think?"

"That's a lot of responsibility for me so early. I barely know my way around the vineyards."

"We're at the other end of the fax machine. You send daily reports, and we'll answer. Our Vancouver number is on the dial list, all punched in and ready to go. Are you familiar with the fax?"

"No, I've never used one."

"No problem," Loic said. "I used them a lot when I was with Chandon planting the vineyards in Carneros. I'll show you, and you'll quickly learn."

"With support like that, how can I say no?" Jean-Paul shrugged and smiled.

"Great! We want the four of you to continue these daily meetings to coordinate your efforts." Catherine swept her arm around the kitchen. "Use this table, the coffee machine over there, and the fridge to store your lunches. This place has been used for generations as a meeting room."