by Sue Roberts
‘I didn’t realise you wanted to get married abroad. How come you never said anything?’
‘Oh, I guess I felt selfish. What you said earlier about eloping, well, I’d like nothing more, but I know Max would never hear of it.’ I’m surprised to hear emotion in my voice as I tell Ria this.
‘Alice,’ she says, gently taking hold of my hand. ‘It’s yours and Max’s day, no one else’s. Do what makes you both happy. The people that matter to you would understand.’
‘Really?’ I ask, as a single tear rolls down my cheek.
‘Of course!’ She squeezes my hand. ‘You need to talk to Max about everything. I’m sure he’ll understand. He loves you to pieces, anyone can see that.’
‘Thanks, Ria,’ I reply, feeling relieved and grateful. ‘And I have tried to talk to Max, but he’s just so excited by everything that maybe I haven’t been completely honest with him.’ I shrug.
‘He’d be mortified if he knew how you really feel, I’m sure.’ She squeezes my hand again. ‘This wedding isn’t all about Max. It’s your day too.’
‘I know. And I’m sorry I didn’t speak to you sooner. You’re my closest friend but, truth be told, I don’t think I even knew what I wanted myself. Max made a big wedding sound like such a joyous occasion that I was swept along with the idea. Then, after a while, I began to think about it and to wish that we’d kept to the small, intimate gathering we had planned at the beginning. I’ve been worried that we have such different ideas of how a wedding should be.’
‘Well, as I say, it’s what the two of you want that matters. Nothing else matters really, does it? You two are made for each other and, personally, I wouldn’t care if just the two of you decided to get married on the moon.’
‘You can do that?’ I attempt a small laugh.
‘Well, if not, I’m sure Richard Branson’s onto it! So… Vangelis told you about his mother’s place, huh? He seems to have made quite an impression on you,’ Ria says, nudging me gently and raising an eyebrow.
‘Don’t start, I’ve told you nothing—’
‘I know, nothing happened between you, I’m teasing,’ she interrupts. ‘But you did fancy him, didn’t you? And I wouldn’t blame you if you did.’
‘Wouldn’t you?’
‘Wouldn’t I what?’
‘Blame me if I found him attractive. I mean… should I be finding men attractive if I’m getting married soon?’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, Alice, being engaged doesn’t mean you stop noticing other people. You don’t turn into a nun when you get a ring on your finger. You’re only human. It’s when you stop finding people attractive that you should worry.’ The sound of her laughter rings out across the boat. ‘It’s normal to appreciate other people, of course it is. As long as you don’t act on any feelings of attraction towards someone else, then it’s all fine. I’m always fancying blokes, but when I’m in a relationship I’m strictly a one-man woman.’
I’m suddenly riddled with guilt as I recall how we kissed.
‘Anyway,’ she says. ‘We’ll be back home soon and away from temptation.’ She’s grinning broadly.
‘Ria, will you stop it!’ I find myself laughing and push her a little too forcefully, just as the catamaran hits a wave, and she slides off the end of the bench and lands at the feet of an astonished-looking elderly male passenger.
She picks herself up and tells me I owe her a drink, just as Molly and Kerry – having seen what happened – are howling with laughter.
In no time at all we are stepping off the boat onto the quay at Heraklion, which is bustling with tourists embarking and disembarking from boats. It’s really bustling down at the harbour and the restaurants are all busy, so we head back to the hotel and decide to have a totally relaxing poolside day tomorrow.
Fifteen
The next morning I stretch my arms out over my head and realise it’s our last day, just as Ria emerges from the bathroom humming a tune.
‘Come on, sleepy head, time for breakfast. We can’t waste a second of our last day. Let’s hit the pool!’
‘Give me two minutes.’ I grab my towel and head to the bathroom, where I take the quickest morning shower ever.
Seated at a breakfast table on an outdoor terrace, we feast on yoghurts, figs, honey and an assortment of breads and cheeses, all washed down with apple juice, in my case, as I still haven’t changed my opinion of the local coffee.
‘I can’t wait to see Max, although I’ll really miss this place,’ I say with a sigh, as I cast my eye over the pretty gardens and paved path that leads down to the swimming pool.
‘There’s something about it that really gets under your skin, isn’t there?’ Molly looks at me, smirking, and I can’t help wondering if she’s implying something.
‘I hope there are some sunbeds left. It’s nine thirty,’ says Kerry, glancing at her watch.
When we approach the large, blue kidney-shaped pool, we are relieved to find plenty of available beds and all begin to settle down. I pull a book from my beach bag and make myself comfortable.
‘Anyone fancy a drink?’ Ria is on her feet again and heading for the pool bar.
‘We’ve only just had breakfast! Maybe some water,’ I suggest.
‘You lot are no fun,’ she huffs, but goes on to admit that maybe it is too early for alcohol. ‘Will eleven be okay for cocktail o’clock?’ she asks hopefully, nodding her head and smiling.
We all agree that, since it’s our last day, it seems reasonable.
Ria returns with our water and sits down on the sunbed next to mine. It’s still quite early, but after a few minutes I can feel the sun burning my skin, so I apply some sun lotion and wish Max was here to massage it into my back.
It’s such a soothing, relaxing sensation lying here, that I find myself hoping we’ll have a good summer back home. I read a few chapters of my book, then close my eyes. I must have dozed off, as I’m woken by the sound of glasses clinking and see Ria standing in front of me with a tray of cocktails. I glance at my watch. It’s five minutes past eleven.
‘You didn’t waste any time,’ I say with a laugh, eyeing the tray of colourful drinks with fruit and umbrellas poking out of them.
‘I got us all a Slow Comfortable Screw. I hope that’s okay,’ Ria says, winking.
‘Give it here, I haven’t had one of those for a while,’ says Kerry.
‘Me neither. I’ve been a good girl on this holiday. That barman’s very cute, though, and he was really flirty.’ Ria takes a sip of her drink and glances towards the poolside bar, where said hunk is wiping the bar and staring back at her, smiling.
After two hours of sunbathing and taking dips in the pool, an idea suddenly springs to mind and I’m shocked that I’m even considering it. When I ask the girls if they fancy walking down to the beach and having a go at parasailing, they think I have finally taken leave of my senses.
‘Not a chance! Those cable cars in Santorini were enough for me,’ Kerry says.
‘But they’re tandem seats. Sit next to me. You’ll be alright. I’ll hold your hand.’ I smile at her winningly.
‘No way, never. I’ll take some photos from the beach.’
Ria and Molly, though, decide it’s a great idea.
‘Fabulous! I’m game for that. Give you a cocktail, Alice, and it seems you’re up for anything.’ Ria roars with laughter. ‘Remember the karaoke evening?’
I close my eyes for a moment, recalling how good it felt to be standing up there on the stage, singing, once I’d conquered my initial nerves. It was so much fun and I felt free and adventurous, believing that I could do just about anything. But it’s not just the cocktails that do it for me. Being here with my friends has given me time to rediscover a little of the old me. I love being a part of a couple with all my heart, but sometimes… well, sometimes you need to make your own choices and be your own person. These are things I’ve forgotten of late.
It’s twelve thirty and the beach is still half-empty, as last night’s part
ygoers are slowly filtering onto the beautiful, long stretch of sand. We aim for a speedboat halfway down the beach, where two guys in shades and shorts are sitting on chairs, scrolling through their phones, which they immediately put away as we approach.
‘Ladies,’ says the taller guy, who dazzles us with an impossibly white-toothed smile. ‘You want to try parasailing today?’
Molly and Ria need no encouragement and happily clamber into one of the tandem seats. I get into the other, but Kerry insists she is not interested. Though when hunk and hunkier show us the safety briefing, I can see her resolve weakening.
‘You don’t want your friend to be alone up there, do you?’ says the better-looking and slightly more muscular guy, piercing her with his chocolate-brown eyes.
And that’s it. Loyalty to her friends (along with some sweet talk from the sexy Greek man) has persuaded Kerry to go up.
‘Well, you’d better not go too high,’ she says to the two guys, still not entirely convinced. I can’t help noticing they exchange a smile with one another.
Safely strapped in, we move along the water, chatting excitedly, when there’s a sudden pull on the straps and we begin to ascend. Slowly, we reach higher and higher and all the time Kerry has her eyes closed. Soon enough, the sea below looks the size of a huge swimming pool and the people on the beach look like ants.
‘Oh wow!’ My hair is fluttering in the breeze and I think my heart is going to burst with excitement. I’m flying like a bird in the mountains and I wish I could stay up here forever. I’m savouring every second of the experience, when I hear a voice beside me.
‘Alice, I don’t like this. I want to get off.’ I glance at Kerry and her eyes are still firmly closed.
‘Kerry, open your eyes,’ I coax gently. ‘You’ll enjoy it more then.’
‘I can’t.’
‘Honestly, just do it. Trust me.’
Kerry does as I ask and I immediately regret telling her to.
‘Holy shit! Oh my god, I don’t like it. Get me down!’
‘We’ll be landing shortly,’ I lie. We’re only about three minutes into a fifteen-minute flight.
‘We’re going to die!’ she screams.
‘Kerry, it’s alright, I promise.’ I take hold of her hand and realise she’s shaking. ‘Really, it’s perfectly safe. I’m with you.’
‘And what the bloody hell can you do when we both hurtle to our deaths? I should have stayed below and took the photos. Aagh!’
She closes her eyes again and for a few minutes she’s quiet. I glance down at the villas and hotels behind the beach, and the mountains in the background, and marvel at the sight, hardly believing that I’m really up here.
‘I’m going to pee myself!’ Kerry’s voice suddenly breaks into my thoughts.
I know Kerry is having a bit of a meltdown and I’m happy to support her, yet I’m trying so hard not to crack up with laughter.
‘Honestly, I hate this. I wish I’d taken some Imodium. My insides are doing a Highland fling,’ she moans.
Oh, no. This is something entirely different.
‘Take deep breaths, Kerry. I promise you’ll be fine. I think we’re already on the way down,’ I lie.
‘Good, because I think I’m going to vomit.’
‘So which is it, then? Are we going to have wee, poo or vomit flying through the air?’
To my surprise, Kerry bursts out laughing at that.
‘Oh, Alice. Thanks for being so calm. Molly would have probably opened my straps and pushed me out by now.’
‘There’s still time yet.’
We laugh together and, thankfully, Kerry calms a little and is able to half enjoy the remainder of the trip. By the time we are on the descent, she is even controlled enough to do an elegant landing in the boat, as opposed to my sort of belly flop.
Molly and Ria have already disembarked and are smiling hugely, having enjoyed every minute of their experience, and Ria is even saying she wouldn’t mind going up and having another go. But now that she’s back on land, Kerry has forgotten that she enjoyed the last five minutes and has turned an even paler shade than usual, so we agree to head back to the pool instead.
Later on that afternoon, sitting in the Apollo taverna and sporting a nice golden glow, we enjoy our final hours together. Even Kerry has a healthy, sun-blushed tinge to her skin. One thing’s for sure, this holiday seems to have done us all a power of good. I think about my flirtation with Vangelis and realise how easily these beautiful islands and the attention of a handsome man can seduce you. But he was a nice man. A gentleman, really. He could have tried to take advantage of me in his room, but he didn’t. We’re all human, I suppose, and I’ve come to realise that despite a momentary attraction to another man, it has no bearing on my relationship with Max. I love him with all my heart.
‘Let’s propose a toast,’ says Ria, as we share a bottle of Prosecco. ‘To friendship. And to having fun, even when you’re married.’ She nods in my direction.
‘You betcha,’ I say, as we all clink glasses.
Sixteen
‘You’re home!’ Max opens the front door just before one thirty in the morning and I’ve barely had time to drop my bag on the floor before he squeezes me in an embrace, tilts my face towards his and kisses me on the lips.
‘I’ve missed you,’ he breathes.
‘Oh, Max, I’ve missed you too.’
I inhale the scent of his aftershave and feel the familiar butterflies in my stomach when he’s close. Standing here, wrapped in his arms, I know there’s nowhere I’d rather be. For a second, I can’t believe I nearly had my head turned by a handsome stranger, almost jeopardising everything I have here.
Max runs his hands over my body and I gasp as he tugs my cotton dress from my body and I hear a small rip.
‘That was my favourite,’ I mutter weakly as he guides me towards the couch.
‘I’ll buy you another,’ he breathes, before laying me down and showing me exactly how much he missed me.
It’s so good to be home, wrapped here in Max’s arms, and I just want this feeling to last forever. I know I have to talk to him about what happened on holiday, but just for tonight I’m going to try to forget about it and enjoy being back here with my fiancé.
‘Fancy a nightcap before we head up to bed?’ Max pulls me to my feet from the couch.
‘Bed? You know, I’m not due back at the shop for another day so you can keep me up as long as you like tonight, Mr Jenkins.’
He grins as he takes me by the hand and guides me upstairs.
Despite using up plenty of energy with Max, I don’t sleep well and find myself wide awake in the early hours of the morning. I get quietly out of bed and head downstairs for a drink of water. Sitting at the kitchen island, I find myself thinking about Molly and wondering if and when she will speak to Max about seeing me with Vangelis. She was fairly friendly with me on our last day in Malia, but even so I know that I must talk to Max myself. I know he’ll understand; he trusts me completely. We are getting married soon after all!
When I eventually go back upstairs, just before the break of dawn, I find myself opening the door to the spare bedroom. Daylight is beginning to filter through the window, casting shadows on one of my paintings of a sea scene with waves crashing over rocks beneath a stormy blue-and-lilac sky. Suddenly I’m transported to the balcony of the hotel, listening to the gentle waves of the sea. I find I have a fierce urge to paint and I take a clean brush from a roll and a medium-sized canvas from a cupboard. The room continues to lighten and gives just the right amount of shade, so I drag some oil paints across the canvas with a palette knife, before using a brush to soften the edges. I have no idea what I am painting, I’m just spreading and covering the canvas in long, sweeping brush strokes. Hours later, I hear Max’s alarm clock, which is soon followed by the sound of the shower running in our en-suite bathroom.
I gaze at the picture and realise I have painted a rough scene of Santorini and the blue- domed church overlooki
ng the sea. The sunset is a deep orange against an indigo sky; the white steps leading down to the sea are like some mythical sea snake. It’s incomplete, yet I feel very satisfied with the painting, thinking it’s one of the best things I’ve started in a long time. Maybe I ought to go on holiday more often for inspiration.
I’m staring at the picture, lost in my thoughts, when Max opens the bedroom door.
‘There you are,’ he says, handing me a mug of coffee. ‘What time did you wake up this morning? I thought you were looking forward to a lie-in.’
‘I was but I didn’t sleep very well and woke in the early hours. Maybe I was overtired. I’m going to grab a shower now.’
Max sniffs the air then glances at the canvas that is leaning against the wall.
‘Wow! Have you been painting through the night? That looks incredible.’
‘Thanks and yes, I have. It’s a bit rough, but I just had a compulsion to paint a view of Thira, maybe while it was fresh in my mind.’
‘Well, it’s brilliant. I bet that gets snapped up as soon as you put it online.’ Max cocks his head to one side and eyes the painting in admiration. ‘You are so talented. You should definitely have your own gallery. There are enough paintings here to fill one.’ His eyes scan the assortment of paintings that are crammed into the fairly small bedroom.
‘I know. The city rents are so expensive, though. Maybe a shop in the village will come up for rent one day.’
I think about it seriously as Max kisses me goodbye. As he goes downstairs, he’s checking that the Indian restaurant in the village will be okay for tonight. There are quite a few independent shops on the small high street, nestled between one or two cafés, but there’s no art gallery in Formby. And the Alice I felt myself becoming on holiday would be brave enough to change that.
