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

by Sue Roberts

  We take a table near some railings, which overlook the gently sloping road that heads down into Hersonissos. A middle-aged man, wearing checked shorts and a pink T-shirt, has stopped halfway down the road and is taking a long glug of water from a bottle.

  A pretty waitress approaches our table and addresses Vangelis personally, before disappearing with the drinks order. She reappears a short while later, with two large bottles of Mythos beer accompanied by ice-cold glasses and a small dish of pistachios.

  ‘Are you hungry?’ Vangelis lifts a menu from the middle of the table.

  I shake my head.

  ‘Well, I am. I was looking forward to some lunch at my mother’s house; she makes the best spanakopita. We could have taken it into the garden with a salad and a nice cold glass of wine.’

  Honestly, it’s not like I stopped you from having lunch.

  ‘Sorry, you go back if you want to.’

  Once again, I can hear myself sounding ever so slightly rude and it doesn’t go unnoticed.

  ‘Okay. What has happened?’ Vangelis takes a long drink of his beer before putting his elbows on the table and resting his chin in his hands. His warm brown eyes are staring at me across the table, giving me the kind of look that threatens to have my innermost thoughts spilling right out of my mouth. Again.

  ‘Something is wrong,’ he persists. ‘You were smiling at the wedding; a mood cannot change so quickly, unless something has happened.’ He takes a pistachio from the bowl and tosses it in the air before catching it in his mouth.

  ‘It’s nothing really. I’ve just found out that Max is going out for drinks with his ex this evening.’

  Vangelis looks confused.

  ‘With his ex?’

  ‘Well, not just the two of them, obviously. There’s a group of people going out. Oh, never mind, just forget it.’

  I resolve to put any negative thoughts away and enjoy having a drink with this lovely man sitting in front of me, who seems very rapidly to have become some sort of confidante.

  ‘Do you have a girlfriend?’ I suddenly find myself blurting out. I feel like I’ve poured my own romantic history out, but he hasn’t mentioned a wife or girlfriend so far.

  His face becomes shuttered and he takes a minute before he answers, first downing more of his beer.

  ‘No.’

  I wait. There is no way I’m speaking now if the best he can give me is one syllable replies. I’m wondering whether he is someone who prefers to play the field, taking his pick from the hordes of tourists in the summer months, when finally he speaks.

  ‘There was someone. I would have married her in a heartbeat.’ His gaze is somewhere far into the distance.

  ‘Would have?’

  ‘Yes. Not so long ago, I met a woman who came on holiday here from England. Her name was Louise. She came before the season started properly, when it was very quiet, and stayed here for five months. From the day we met we spent every moment we could together. But then she left suddenly, moving on to another island. It seems she had just been looking for a holiday romance and must have decided I fitted the bill. I never imagined I would fall head over heels in love.’

  Here I was, just a few seconds ago, imagining Vangelis being a heartbreaker and yet it would seem that he is the one who has been hurt. He tells me all about Louise from London, who stole his heart, and how he was certain she felt the same way about him. He talks of the long, hazy summer last year, spent out in the mountains in the jeep, exploring, and enjoying intimate candlelit dinners in their favourite tavernas.

  ‘For the first time in my life, I thought I was finally ready to settle down. I loved her so much and I thought she felt the same way about me. I asked her to stay, and to marry me, but she said no, she was ready to move on to Rhodes. A day or two later she did just that. Maybe I was a fool to think that she might consider staying here with me. After all, when we first met, she did tell me she wanted to go travelling. I should never have allowed myself to fall in love with her.’ He gives me a rueful smile.

  So Vangelis has felt the pain of losing someone. I feel so terrible for him.

  ‘When we went our separate ways, I promised myself that I would never get involved with a tourist again, who, it seems, just wants a Greek man for a holiday romance she can tell all her friends about.’

  ‘Not all women are like that,’ I say softly, but Vangelis is deep in his own thoughts.

  ‘The strange thing is, I never usually get involved with people who are here on holiday, but it was different with Louise. She was unlike anyone I had ever met. And then you come to visit the island, and I spend the night talking with you like someone I have known all of my life. Just my luck that you are here on your hen party, or I might have been going back on my promise to myself,’ he says, as his dark eyes lock with mine.

  Vangelis is clearly a natural charmer, and I’m sure he’s seduced many women with his silken words, but I’m still thrown into slight confusion. I wonder for a second whether he really likes me, although either way it shouldn’t matter to me.

  After our drink, Vangelis walks me down the hill and we talk all the way to the bus stop, where we say our final goodbyes.

  ‘Well, it’s been a real pleasure meeting you and thank you so much for introducing me to your mother,’ I say. ‘I think her garden is the most beautiful place for a wedding that I have ever seen. Who knows, perhaps I’ll be back with Max one day. And, Vangelis, I know you’re still hurting, but I hope you’ll find your everlasting love,’ I tell him, forcing myself to look up into his dark eyes.

  ‘You too. Although it seems you have already found yours. Good luck, Alice. It has been a pleasure to know you.’

  We stand for a few seconds, just looking at each other, and then Vangelis moves closer. He brushes my cheek softly with his lips and instinctively I move my face round so that he kisses me full on the lips and a thousand bolts of lightning shoot through my body. I kiss him back before reality sets in and I quickly pull away from him, wondering what the hell I have just done. But Vangelis looks unfazed as he holds me close to him. It’s almost as if I am under some sort of spell when he is around, and I realise I have to get as far away from here as possible. Thankfully, the bus has just appeared from around a corner and is heading towards the stop.

  ‘Vangelis, I’m so sorry. What was I thinking?’

  ‘Do not ruin a happy moment with being sorry.’ He threads his hand through mine and whispers into my ear, ‘Another time, another place, Alice, and who knows what might have been?’ Then he hails the bus and hands me up into it, telling the driver my destination. Even the way he says my name sends me into a flutter and I wonder what on earth is happening to me.

  As the bus pulls away, I realise that I am shaking. I think about the brush of his lips on my cheek and how it made me feel. It was probably just a Greek way of saying goodbye and it would have meant nothing to him, until I stupidly turned my face to receive a kiss on the lips. Why did I do that? I love Max with all my heart, I know I do, but in that split second I thought of nothing and no one else except Vangelis. And he seemed perfectly happy to kiss me.

  I feel ashamed at my own weakness and hope I never set eyes on him again. Vangelis’s comments about women looking for holiday romances made me realise how easy it is to become involved, especially in such a beautiful, romantic setting. I always imagined people would have realistic expectations of a holiday romance, but I don’t suppose you can help yourself falling in love if you meet someone special. I thought that Max was the right person for me but right now I feel so conflicted and I wonder for the umpteenth time how I could possibly feel so attracted to another man. And is it right to marry Max, if I am capable of such a thing? Do I have to tell him what I’ve done?

  As the bus heads back towards Malia, I stretch out my hand and look at my engagement ring. It’s such a huge rock compared to the smaller, single solitaire Max presented me with when we first got engaged. I feel so guilty wearing it right now though, as if I have betrayed Max
. A tear escapes my eye as I slide the ring from my finger and place it in a side pocket of my shoulder bag, as I gather my thoughts. I can’t lie, I wanted to kiss Vangelis, yet I can’t understand why. Until I do understand, I don’t deserve to wear Max’s ring.

  When the bus stops outside the hotel, I gather my shopping bag of gifts, including the olives for Max, as well as a colourful scarf for Lexie and a jar of honey for Mum. I thank the driver as I alight from the bus. But once I am out in the street, I realise I am missing something. With a feeling of horror and rising panic, I realise I have left my handbag on the bus. With my ring still tucked inside.

  Twelve

  I wave my hands furiously over my head and shout, but it makes no difference and the bus disappears round the next corner and into the distance. My mind is racing and I feel sick. Heart thumping, I head across the road to the hotel and see the manager taking a break outside.

  ‘Santos!’ I wave to him as I frantically run towards him.

  ‘Despoinida, is something wrong?’ He walks to meet me, a concerned look on his face.

  ‘The bus… my bag. Oh my God, it’s gone… what am I going to do?’ I can barely string a sentence together.

  ‘Slow down, please. Tell me what has happened.’ His voice is calm and I try to gather my thoughts, but I have an overwhelming urge to cry.

  I take a deep breath and finally manage to tell Santos that I have left my bag on the bus and that it has my engagement ring inside it.

  ‘Okay, no problem. I will phone the bus company. Please come into reception with me,’ he says, taking control of the situation, though I am not certain he understands how awful it actually is and that I’m struggling to keep my hysteria under control.

  We head into the hotel and Santo dials a number and begins a conversation in Greek.

  I give him the details of my bag and he translates to the person at the other end of the phone.

  ‘I am told the driver will back at the bus terminus in twenty minutes,’ he informs me. ‘We will know more then.’

  ‘Don’t they have mobile phones they can communicate with?’ I ask in exasperation.

  ‘Despoinida, this is Greece. A lot of the drivers do not communicate that way. All we can do is wait. Would you like a brandy? You look as if you need one.’

  I gratefully accept and we head to the bar, where Santos pours me a brandy and I knock it back. I’m in a panic, thinking about what Max will say if I don’t get the ring back. How can I possibly tell him, and explain why I had taken it off?

  If it has gone, is it a sign?

  What feels like an hour later, and resisting drinking any more brandy, despite my nerves, I’m still waiting anxiously at the bar, when Santos comes over to me with a smile on his face.

  ‘The driver has your bag. He will be back at the bus stop again in forty minutes. If you wait at the bus stop he will give it to you.’

  The feeling of relief is overwhelming. ‘Oh, thank you, Santos. I don’t know what I would have done without your help.’ I have an urge to throw my arms around him but that kind of behaviour has got me into enough trouble already.

  When the green and white bus arrives at the stop, I’ve never been more happy to see anything in all my life. I don’t understand the driver’s words as he hands me my shoulder bag, but his kind smile makes me think he isn’t lecturing me on my foolishness. The first thing I do is check the side pocket and I’m thrilled to find my ring is still there, along with my purse. I peel a twenty euro note from my wallet and hand it to the driver, who protests strongly, but I insist. He thanks me many times before driving off with a huge smile on his face.

  When the bus has gone, I put the ring back onto my finger and vow to never take it off again. What a fool I have been. Tomorrow is the last full day of the holiday and the day after I will be back home in my own bed with Max. I can hardly wait. I need to see him and put all thoughts of Vangelis out of my mind. I really want to get home and back to my normal life. Holiday romances aren’t real and even if I am attracted to someone like Vangelis, reality is always around the corner. Yet, despite myself, I can’t help thinking that whoever ends up with him will be one lucky lady.

  Thirteen

  That evening, having all showered and changed, we decided to have a meal on the upper floor at the Apollo taverna, with its view over the sea and the boats bobbing in the harbour below us. It has quickly become our favourite place to eat. Now we’re dipping chunks of bread into a plate of dips as a starter and enjoying some cold white wine, while a warm evening breeze wafts over us. Our smiling waitress told us of a special dish on tonight’s menu, pork and black olives simmered in a tomato and oregano sauce, which sounded delicious. We all ordered it, apart from Kerry, who opted for some roasted stuffed peppers, her burger on the beach seemingly a moment of weakness. I don’t tell my friends that I almost lost my engagement ring and I do my best to put all thoughts of Vangelis out of my mind and enjoy the remaining time here with them.

  ‘Ah, I’m going to miss this view.’ Ria is glancing at the twinkling lights in the harbour below. ‘Back to the kids in the gallery on Monday, and their interesting interpretations of the great masters. Maybe I’ll get them to paint van Gogh’s starry night.’ She gazes at the star-filled sky above.

  ‘Sounds good. I’ll miss it here too. Although I can’t wait to see Max. I’ve really missed him,’ I say.

  Maybe it’s my imagination, but Molly seems to raise an eyebrow slightly after I say I’ve really missed Max.

  ‘They do say absence makes the heart grow fonder,’ Kerry says. ‘Although if I was given the chance to stay here another week, I’d be quite prepared to take it. I’m not missing Hal that much. I’ve been missing The Great British Bake Off more.’

  We all laugh at her remark, although I wonder whether there’s a half-truth in her jokey statement. She’s hardly mentioned Hal since we’ve been here, but the conversation moves on while I’m deciding whether I should ask her if everything is alright.

  We discuss our plans for tomorrow and I impulsively make a suggestion. ‘Well, if you can all get up early in the morning, and I do mean early, we could go for a day trip to Santorini.’

  ‘I thought you wanted to go to Spinalonga?’ Kerry reminds me.

  ‘I did, but I’ll do that another time. I wouldn’t mind spending a few days in Agios Nikolaos so I’ll probably visit Spinalonga then instead.’

  We could probably have fitted that trip in the day before we go home, if we’d been desperate, but we’re all determined to have a beach day to top up our tans. Well, all of us apart from Kerry. I’m sure there will be a next time for me, as there’s so much more to explore. I’d like to come here again with Max and hire a car so that we can explore this side of the island, finding secret coves to have the picnics that we both so enjoy.

  ‘Santorini! Are you kidding! Of course we’ll go! I’ll set three alarms if I have to. Ooh, yes, I fancy a day mingling with the beautiful people and eating at some fabulous restaurant overlooking the harbour. It looks really pretty with those gorgeous, blue-domed buildings, doesn’t it? Count me in,’ Ria squeals, and Molly quietly nods her head in agreement.

  ‘I’ve always wanted to go there. Do you know it is the most photographed place in Greece? My photographer friend told me that particular little nugget of information,’ Kerry informs us.

  ‘I can imagine. It looks absolutely amazing. I can’t wait,’ Ria agrees.

  ‘I might not go home at all. Think of all those world-famous sunsets I could paint. I might set up a little studio like the guy in the mountain village.’ Kerry sighs.

  ‘You’d be bored of the scenery after a few weeks. Don’t you redecorate your lounge every few months?’ Ria reminds her with a laugh.

  ‘It’s true. I tire of things easily, darling,’ she says theatrically. ‘It must be the artist in me.’

  Again, I’m not sure if Kerry’s joking or not and hope to get the chance to talk to her properly to make sure she’s okay.

  �
��Also, do you really think you could live here in the height of summer with your pale skin? You’d be housebound!’ I remind her.

  ‘Yes, thank you! I could have a beautiful house on the cliffs with a large covered terrace. I’d waft around in kaftans and huge sunglasses drinking Pimm’s and taking dips in the pool. And painting. Glorious mountain views. Plus, as I’m good at painting animals, I could paint the Greek cats and sell my pictures to the tourists. And my bread-making wasn’t half as bad as yours, Alice, so I wouldn’t starve.’

  ‘Bloomin’ cheek! You do make it sound idyllic, though,’ I say wistfully.

  ‘I’m not convinced,’ says Ria. ‘It’s a great place for a holiday and I’m having a wonderful time, but I like the buzz of a city. I can’t imagine living here permanently; it would be a little too quiet for me out of season.’

  ‘Me too, there’s no way I could live here permanently. I’d miss all the shops in town,’ Molly adds. ‘And Bongo’s Bingo.’

  Bongo’s Bingo in Liverpool is a unique and crazy nightclub and prize bingo experience, where prizes range from bottles of wine to weekend breaks, as well as a plethora of useful household items up for grabs.

  We decide to head back to the hotel bar so that we can have a few drinks there and still manage an early start tomorrow. I’m pleased to see that Santos is working in the bar when I go to order our cocktails.

  ‘I spoke to my brother today, you know him, I think,’ Santos says. ‘He seemed a little down so I am going to see him tomorrow and take him sea fishing. He has a day off from the jeep tours and a day out on the water is good for everyone.’

  ‘Vangelis? Oh yes, I saw him earlier today. I’m sorry to hear that though. I hope you have a good day on the water. We’re going to Santorini tomorrow, so I hope the weather is fine for the crossing, too.’