Vicky helps out

Vicky took a card and basket from Brandon and the pair of them headed to the far corner towards a series of fences covered in vines. Thomas was already there, examining a bunch of grapes suspiciously.

“Any caterpillars?” Brandon joked.

“They’re perfect,” Thomas said, as though this was somehow a bad thing. He nodded to Vicky before beginning to fill his basket, still with an expression of deep concern.

“Do you reckon he’s worried about pesticides?” Brandon asked as they headed towards a row of greenery thick with strawberries on one side and blueberries on the other.

“Maybe,” Vicky said absent-mindedly. Pesticides in such an enclosed space would surely be unhealthy, but she got the impression that Thomas was concerned about something else.

“I’ll tell you what,” Brandon said over the sound of berries bouncing against wicker. “Old Leon must have a hell of a gardening team to grow stuff like this.”

Vicky mumbled her agreement, holding several strawberries in her hand. What Thomas had said was true: Strawberries were notorious for how quickly they went soft or rotten and yet not a single one showed any signs of being anything but perfect. She tentatively bit one in half, and the burst of flavour was divine.

Vicky ran out of room in her basket before she had emptied the vine, but a basket was all that was required, so she and Brandon headed back down to the kitchens with their prize and loaded them into the massive refrigerators for later.

Now tired from the manual labour and more than a little dirty, Vicky took a shower to wash off the grime and hopefully a bit of the fatigue that had hounded her all morning.

By the time she had redone her hair and makeup, it was time for lunch.