As Greek as It Gets: A fun, feel-good romantic comedy

by Sue Roberts

  We settle into a corner table at the restaurant, which is accessed by a long, narrow, black staircase and looks down onto the busy street below, and order two large glasses of Sancerre and a jug of water.

  ‘I can’t believe you’re actually getting married,’ says Kerry, after we’ve given our food order to a waitress. ‘You’re the first one of us too. I remember at uni you swore you would never get married.’

  It’s true, all of us are thirty or approaching it and none of us is married. I guess all the conversations we had about not compromising and how we would only consider marriage if we met the one we couldn’t live without are true. I feel so lucky to have found Max but as Ria says, ‘Thirty is the new twenty, so there’s no rush’.

  ‘I know I did. But everything just feels right with Max. I just didn’t expect the wedding to be such a big affair. You know what I’m like with crowds of people. Plus, the guest list seems to be growing by the day.’

  ‘That’s Max all over, generous to a fault,’ Kerry says, grinning. ‘He’d probably invite the whole city if he could.’

  ‘You’re probably right.’

  I can’t help smiling at the thought, though if he did anything close to it I’d be an absolute wreck. I can barely handle the number of people we’ve got coming as it is.

  The waitress brings our meals and sets them on the table. There’s a plate of tasty melt-in-the-mouth pork in a tangy apple-and-mustard sauce for me, and a delicious-looking parmesan-topped vegetable risotto for Kerry. My meal comes with a dish of dauphinoise potatoes and green beans that I’m happy to share as the portions are huge.

  ‘Do you think you and Hal will ever get married?’ I ask, as we tuck in to our food.

  ‘I don’t know, to be honest,’ Kerry says. ‘I’m not sure Hal really believes in marriage. He says you don’t need a piece of paper to be happy. But we’re fine as we are. Hal says there’s so many things he wants to do before he settles down for good.’

  ‘Right.’ It’s hard to imagine Hal being in a rush to do anything, such is his laid-back attitude to life.

  ‘So, how is the wedding planning going?’ Kerry quickly turns the conversation back to my wedding plans, which makes me wonder whether marriage is a bit of a sticking point between them. ‘I can’t think of a nicer place than the Lake District. You’re so lucky, the photographs are going to be amazing.’

  I can’t think of anywhere nicer than Cavendish House either. The Georgian mansion overlooking Lake Ullswater that we’ve booked really is a dream setting. We were originally marrying in the Rose Room, an intimate lounge with an antique fireplace and room for twenty-five guests. But as the wedding numbers have grown, we’ve had to change to the Green Room, a stunning space with floor-length windows that overlook a little jetty on the lake.

  ‘We just have to hope the weather stays nice though. Late August can be stunningly beautiful or a real washout.’

  I’m hoping it won’t rain, as Max has included a pre-dinner boat trip around the lake with champagne for all the guests. To be honest, he has taken over most of the wedding planning, along with his sister Molly, who actually set herself up as a wedding planner last year. It is totally fine by me as I find the whole thing completely overwhelming.

  The location is important to me – it was the place where Max and I spent our first weekend away – but I am less interested in table favours and all the other little things that send my head into a spin every time I think about them. I’d like to keep things simple, but it seems that these days guests have high expectations when attending a wedding, especially one held in a grand country-house hotel.

  Kerry and I finish our main courses and sit back feeling completely sated. We decide to opt for a liqueur coffee instead of a dessert. Afterwards, we’re just settling the bill when my phone rings. It’s Max.

  ‘Hiya, how’s the shopping going?’ My heart still does a little flip when I hear his voice.

  ‘Good, thanks. We’re pretty much done. Just paying for a lunch at Bistro Pierre.’

  ‘Great. Well, I’ve had to make do with a sandwich from the deli today as I’ve been mad busy. I’ll be done by seven o’clock though, so I’ll pick up a couple of steaks on the way home, if you fancy it?’

  I’m still full from lunch but tell him that yes, steak would be perfect.

  ‘Anyway, I’m ringing because I’ve just had a client who’s an entertainment manager in the office. He’s got Stavros Flatley on his books and I think he’ll be able to get them for our wedding. I’ve invited him to the wedding too, if he can book them.’

  ‘Stavros Flatley?’ I say, in utter disbelief.

  ‘Yeah, you know, that father and son act. They were on Britain’s Got Talent. It would be a right laugh; they’d really get the crowd going. He said it would normally be a bit short notice but they’re performing in Manchester, which isn’t that far away, so it shouldn’t be a problem.’ Max’s voice is buzzing with excitement.

  ‘Yes, I know who they are but… is it really the right thing for the wedding?’

  ‘Of course it is! For the evening party, of course. The disco is all sorted and I just thought it would be a surprise for the guests. Can you imagine everyone’s faces when Stavros Flatley turn up?’ I can just see Max’s huge grin at the other end of the phone.

  I suppose it’s a rather sweet idea, but I do worry about whether things may be getting a little out of hand. Our original plan last year was for twenty-five guests, who included immediate family and friends, but somehow it’s crept up to eighty. I quickly realised that you couldn’t invite one person from the wider family without inviting another or you would offend someone. Not that I should worry about offending my relatives, who are cast far and wide, most of whom I haven’t seen since I was five years old.

  As I walk Kerry down to the ferry terminal at Pier Head, so that she can catch the ferry to Seacombe, I tell her all about Max’s latest idea for the wedding, and how he’s going to buy steaks for supper. She laughs and tells me I’m lucky to have such a generous fiancé and how she’s sick of scouring the supermarket late in the evening so that Hal can pick out the cut-price food. It’s not as if I need reminding of how wonderful Max is, yet in our relationship I’m usually the one looking out for bargains.

  It’s a lovely afternoon with just a few wispy clouds drifting through a bright blue sky, although a slight breeze whips up as we approach the River Mersey. It’s been such a happy day with Kerry that I’m reminded how lucky I am and how I should cherish the close relationship I have with my friends. Suddenly, I can’t wait until we are all together in Crete.

  ‘See you very soon,’ I say, as I squeeze her in a hug.

  Ria had planned to join us today but she had to go to the outskirts of the city to visit her mother, who had sustained a fall at her sheltered accommodation. Ria willingly does everything for her mum, who she has always had a good relationship with, and it’s something I envy her for.

  As Kerry waves from the ferry, which is leaving foamy white water in its wake, I find a bench and take my small sketchbook from my shoulder bag and a piece of charcoal from a tin that I always carry with me. I slide the charcoal across the page and draw the outline of the boat as it sails off into the distance, before sketching the buildings that surround the water. I’m lost in my drawing, when I feel someone looking over my shoulder.

  ‘Oh, that’s really good that, love.’

  I swing round to find a grey-haired woman in a black fur-hooded anorak smiling at me. She has a young boy with her, who I assume to be her grandson.

  ‘I wish I could draw like that.’ She nods with approval. ‘You could be a professional.’

  ‘Thank you, it’s just a rough sketch.’ I tell her all about my online business and she listens with interest.

  ‘Well, good luck with that. I do like a bit of painting myself, watercolour painting that is. There was a class at my local library every Saturday morning before it closed down. I’m not saying I was any good at it but I really enjoyed it. M
y grandson here loves art too. He likes going to the creative classes at the Walker Art Gallery, don’t you, love?’ The boy nods.

  I tell her that Ria works at the gallery and it turns out he’s been to one of the classes she runs.

  ‘He made a lovely clay trinket pot there,’ his grandmother tells me. ‘It’s got pride of place on my dressing table. Anyway, must be off. Keep drawing!’

  As the woman and boy leave, my thoughts are returning to the conversation with Max about Stavros Flatley, when a text pings through on my phone. It’s a picture message from Max showing a pair of owls.

  What do you think about these to carry the wedding rings?

  Although it’s something I would never have thought of in a million years, if Max is happy then I guess I should be too. Thinking about Kerry’s comments, maybe I ought to be grateful that I’m not marrying a skinflint like Hal. Perhaps I should be happy to indulge Max’s every whim. He’s filled my life with such love and affection, I think I ought to allow him just about anything. Well, almost…

  I decide not to reply to the text right away, but to continue with my sketching. I know the preparations are in good hands with Max and his sister Molly organising things. She has such style and an eye for detail. She was hating her job at a nursery before she decided to make a change to event planning, and I think it’s the perfect job for her.

  In truth, along with the choice of venue, I just wanted control over my dress and the flowers and very little else. Actually, I don’t think there should be much else apart from some nice food and good conversation with loved ones who are all having a good time. I don’t want my wedding to become a circus. I want the guests to remember the romance, laughter and love rather than all the additional extravagances. But I’ve signed over control to Molly and Max, so I have to let them get on with it.

  Soon enough I have completed an outline of the scene in front of me, which I will fill in later. I also take a photograph on my phone, should I decide to add some colour to it.

  After putting my sketching things away, I take a stroll along the Royal Albert Dock and inhale deeply, enjoying the feel of the bracing wind against my cheeks. It’s one of my favourite places to be and these days it’s surrounded by some nice eateries and the Tate Liverpool, where I am a regular visitor. I decide to stay a while and I buy a latte from a coffee van and take it over to the rail overlooking the water. There’s something so soothing about having a break in the sun and I can’t wait to spend some time on a sun-kissed beach. It won’t be just a holiday though, it will be my hen party.

  I’m really looking forward to marrying Max. I just need to put aside my concerns that we seem to have such different ideas of how a wedding should be. I’ve seen too many couples focus on the huge wedding thing only to get divorced a few years later once the post-wedding reality sets in. I’m not saying that would be the case with us but, well, it makes you think. I have a memory of my parents together in happier days when I was a young child and wonder if anything lasts forever…

  I tell myself to stop thinking this way. I’m marrying the man of my dreams and I have a get-together with my best friends on sunny Crete to look forward to first. Surely life doesn’t get much better than this?

  Four

  ‘Aren’t you hungry?’ Max asks, as he eats the last of his sirloin steak and eyes my half-eaten plate of food.

  ‘Not hungry enough to really appreciate this food after having had a big lunch. I’m so sorry, Max. It’s delicious too.’

  I bought Max a celebrity cookbook last month and he’s steadily working his way through it, which is doing nothing for my waistline and I wonder, fleetingly, whether I will still fit into my wedding dress. Maybe I’d better be a little more serious about my running, as I once used to be. There’s a beach ten minutes away from home and a pair of running shoes sitting in the wardrobe, so I really have no excuse.

  ‘Not to worry. Shall we have a glass of wine and an early night then?’ he asks, already taking our plates into the kitchen to load the dishwasher. ‘Although, I do have an M&S chocolate cheesecake in the fridge. I didn’t have time to make one.’

  ‘Let’s save that for tomorrow. An early night sounds perfect,’ I say, as I wrap my arms around him and kiss him, enjoying the feel of my fingers toying with the hair at the top of his neck.

  ‘So, are you all packed?’ Max asks, as he loads the plates into the dishwasher.

  ‘Almost. Although it’s still a couple of days away and you know how I tend to leave things until the last minute.’

  ‘As long as you don’t turn up late to our wedding. I don’t want to be stressing at the altar.’

  ‘As if I would.’

  ‘Well, you’d better not. I’ll give you ten minutes then the wedding’s off,’ he says teasingly. ‘I still remember our second date. The staff were cashing up and putting the chairs on the tables by the time you turned up.’

  ‘Oh, very funny. As I recall, my train was fifteen minutes late. Were you panicking, thinking I wasn’t coming?’ I joke right back.

  In reality, it was me who was panicking about being late. My stomach was churning as I headed for the restaurant, hoping he would still be there.

  I step towards him now and look into his gorgeous eyes and he strokes my hair before kissing me softly.

  ‘No, I knew you’d turn up. How could you possibly resist?’

  He sweeps his hair back and sucks his stomach in, making me laugh. But it’s true all the same; his soft kiss has made me faintly breathless.

  ‘Oh, I almost forgot to tell you,’ Max says, as he takes a bottle of wine from the wine rack. ‘You’ll never guess who I bumped into today. Do you remember Reggie who lived next door to us at the flat?’

  I lived with Max for a while in his two-bedroomed flat before he sold it for the deposit on our house. Reggie was a good neighbour, although he did have a tendency to sing along loudly to the radio as he got ready for his early-morning shift as a postman.

  ‘Yes, of course. How’s he doing?’

  ‘Would you believe he’s moved up to the Lake District? Only a couple of miles from the wedding venue. I’ve invited him along,’ Max says matter-of-factly.

  It’s funny how quickly the lovely evening has turned flat for me. That’s eighty-one guests. I can hardly believe what I’m hearing.

  ‘Really? Do you think the hotel will be happy with that? We can’t just keep adding people onto the guest list, Max.’

  ‘It’s fine. The wedding’s two months away. I’ve already phoned the hotel and sorted it. Molly said it wouldn’t make a difference.’

  All I can think of is that it will mess the table numbers up. We have ten tables of seven people, who have been carefully seated, as well as the bridal table, and now we have an odd number. I can feel irritation rising inside me. Why hadn’t Max even discussed this with me? I know having a wedding planner means a lot of the details are taken care of, but I should still be consulted about who we invite, surely?

  Max pours me a glass of red wine and hands it to me.

  ‘You’re not mad at me, are you?’ He’s looking at me with his soft grey blue eyes that seem to make me forgive him just about anything.

  I try to temper my voice. ‘Not mad exactly, but Reggie was hardly your best friend though, was he? I’m just surprised you’ve asked him to our wedding, that’s all. I wonder how long this guest list will be by the time you’ve finished?

  ‘I know, sorry, sometimes I just act on the spur of the moment.’

  ‘Well, alright, but don’t go inviting anyone else. Honestly, Max, I already felt nervous enough about saying my vows in front of a handful of people, never mind a room full of eighty people. Well, eighty-one now.’

  ‘But why? Don’t be nervous. I’ll be standing right next to you. It’s a celebration! The more people the merrier, as far I’m concerned. I want to show you, my beautiful bride, off to the whole world.’ He takes the wine glass from my hand and puts it on the table, next to his. Then he lifts me off my feet and
spins me round, making me giggle, and I laughingly slap him on the back as he throws me over his shoulder and attempts to carry me upstairs.

  ‘I know you do.’ I catch my breath as he tickles me before depositing me back onto the floor. ‘And of course I want people to join in the celebrations. But I also want it to be something special to us. Promise me you won’t add any more people to the guest list or we might have to look at a bigger venue. Anfield football stadium, for example.’

  ‘Alright, I promise,’ he says softly. ‘Anyway, come on, let’s take our wine to bed. I won’t see you for five days when you’re away. I don’t know how I’ll survive.’

  I am about to say ‘I’m sure you’ll manage’ but he silences me with a lingering kiss that sends shivers down my spine, before he picks up the wine glasses and we head off upstairs to bed.

  Two hours later, I find myself wide awake just staring at the ceiling. Not for the first time, I wish we could just elope somewhere and tie the knot, but I know Max wouldn’t hear of it. I’ve never really enjoyed being in the limelight, but I’d better get over that for my big day. Maybe this forthcoming hen party will help me to relax a little and gather my thoughts.

  Max had his stag do last month. He went to Vegas and from what I could tell savoured every minute of the place, from visiting the casinos to taking a helicopter ride over the Grand Canyon, which would terrify the life out of me. At times, I wonder how on earth our relationship works as we are such totally different people.

  We haven’t decided on a honeymoon yet and there are still so many places in the world I’d like to visit, yet every time I think of a honeymoon I think of Greece and its sun-kissed beaches and friendly tavernas, all serving the most delicious fresh food. It’s just perfect. And I love the history too. Taking a stroll on the islands, you can find yourself stumbling upon ancient amphitheatres, or the remains of some crumbling monument or other at virtually every turn. I love everything about the place.