by Sue Watson
‘Make the most of it and embrace it all. Don’t say no like I always do,’ she hissed. ‘You go for it, Faye... and get whatever it is you want, girl.’
I pulled a sad face, like I understood, and blew her a kiss.
‘You do it for both of us, love,’ she called. Sue was such a good friend, such a genuinely good person. She deserved more. I hoped she’d find it.
I caught up with Dan who put his arm around me as we walked; ‘Babe, I can’t wait to get you alone on a beach under those stars,’ he smiled and we jumped on the moving escalator, blindly heading towards our next adventure.
18
TAXI FOR FATE
Arriving on Santorini, the first thing to hit me as we got off the plane was the incredible heat shimmering on the tarmac. The sun was searing, bouncing off walls. The deep blue skies offered no cloud shelter and the parched land no shade.
Though Dan had suggested we get a bus from the airport at Fira to Oia as it was only six or seven miles, Sue had insisted on pre-booking and paying for a taxi as her gift, to take us straight from the airport. ‘You’re gonna look like shit when you get off that plane and hit terracotta,’ she’d warned. ‘You’ll be like the Good Year Blimp—and the last thing you’ll need is a bus journey on top of that, my love.’ I hadn’t even thought about the effects of cabin pressure on my ageing flesh, and almost wished she hadn’t informed me of this metamorphosis taking place midair. But coming through customs, I could have hugged her for her prediction. I was tired, my ankles had swollen as predicted, and my face was slightly puffy despite lots of rampant spritzing, which had alarmed both Dan and the gentleman to my left on the plane.
At Fira Airport I had never been more pleased to see someone and wanted to kiss George from Ella Taxis who stood holding a card with my name on... Well, what it actually said was ‘Taxi for Fate’, and it made me feel a little weird, reminding me how big this trip was in terms of my life, and just how far I’d come.
It was almost an hour’s journey from the airport to Oia and the ride was as breathtaking as the views in more ways than one. Dan and I sat together in the back, holding hands and pointing out the beautiful scenery to each other through the car windows. The mountainous journey was along rough, narrow roads cut high into the Caldera, with no barriers, just a sheer drop, and despite the spectacular beauty, that drop was never far from my thoughts. The taxi was fast and swerving and I was genuinely scared for my life, but Dan loved it. He whooped loudly, leaning out of the window, waving his arms and shouting at the endless blue sky.
By the time we arrived in Oia, it was a searing summer afternoon. The sun was high in a cloudless sky, and just like the postcards, the white, blue-domed buildings created a perfect Greek skyline, framed by brilliant blue.
The taxi drove off and we both stood in awe, heat on our faces and bags at our feet. ‘Santorini is a volcanic crater called a caldera,’ Dan said. ‘Oia is built on the slope of the Caldera; that’s why it’s so steep. Look how high we are... God, I love this place.’ I gazed at him under the perfect sky as he turned slowly round, taking everything in. He knew so much and I loved listening to him, and even here the blue skies and spectacular scenery were no competition; I still had to tear my eyes away from his as he spoke.
Standing on the sloping ground, it all seemed so fragile and fairy-tale-like, the bougainvillea-smothered buildings precariously perched on rocky terrain, overlooking the staggering blue of the sea. Moving uphill, I grabbed his hand, my legs wobbly on the uneven ground. I peered through the buildings for a glimpse of the cobalt sea and we stopped for a few seconds to watch a tiny speedboat foaming white in the distance. I will never forget that first moment, gazing beyond land at the endless Aegean, calm, unmoving, unmoveable—yet, in complete contrast, everything on land here seemed so fragile. One gust of wind and I was sure all the sparkly icing-sugar buildings and churches would tumble down the caldera, taking us with them—white powder, blue domes and smashed hearts.
Dan took out the directions from his rucksack while I wheeled my huge case along the cobbles. There was no sign of wind today; everything was still and quiet on the outskirts of the tiny town. The only sound was my heart beating.
Turning into the first narrow street, it was suddenly busy with tourists all turning up for that evening’s sunset. They wandered in and out of tiny shops selling everything from high-end jewellery to local honey, and we wandered amongst them, gazing at taverna menus and planning our next meal. We promised ourselves we’d visit the rooftop bars protected from the sun by stylish white yacht sales, decorated with modern sculptures, water features and beautiful people with expensive blonde highlights and huge designer sunglasses.
We stopped for a few minutes to check directions and get our breath back, and the steepness and the heat made me dizzy. I leaned on Dan, feeling his energy, his lust for life as his arms enveloped me protectively, like he sensed my spark of fear being in this new, strange territory. His eyes were always near mine, his arms always there, and as we stood in our own private huddle, I thought about how present he was, in an emotional and physical way. Dan was the calm, blue sea to my sometimes fragile, topsy-turvy land.
As we walked on, he took my hand, leading me through the heat and the steep pavements, stopping every now and then to admire something in a shop window or share a view of the sea through a gap in the brilliant white buildings. We followed the directions, turning left along the little cobbled backstreets, eventually arriving at several whitewashed apartments propped against and on top of each other like a giant white game of Jenga. We walked on a little further and eventually found a bright-blue door.
‘This is it,’ he said, knocking hard. The pounding heat on my back, anticipation of what this new experience would bring and the nearness of him made my heart beat faster. We waited. No one came so he knocked again, my exhilaration slowly morphing into floppy disappointment at each knock. After a few more minutes, we decided to walk a little further down the lane to see if we could spot any other villa with a similar description, but as we turned away, we heard the sound of a bolt being moved inside. Relieved, I quickly spun back to see Dan’s full, beaming smile. I looked to where his smile landed and couldn’t believe who was standing in the doorway. Blonde, tanned, beautiful Gabby.
She was looking straight at him as I gathered myself together, trying not to let the shock register on my face. I glanced at Dan, waiting for introductions, but he just threw down his bag and hugged her. I felt for a moment like he’d forgotten me.
‘Gabby, I didn’t know you’d be here,’ he said. ‘Great to see you, mate.’ She was smiling and hugging him, beckoning him inside, then she saw me and her face dropped.
‘Oh... oh, yeah, I forgot, you two haven’t met. This is Faye,’ he said, ushering me in front of him to where she stood at the door.
I smiled and said hello and she nodded, a half-smile playing on her lips; ‘Hi... Faye.’ Then she turned back to Dan, almost with her back to me. ‘Ben’s gone into town for beer but Nick’s here, asleep as usual,’ she rolled her eyes and slowly turned to go back into the house, gesturing for us to follow.
Had Dan known she’d be here? He seemed genuinely surprised to see her. He’d said she was somewhere in Europe, but she’d obviously decided this was the place to be. I didn’t blame her; it was so beautiful—but surely it was going to make things awkward now, with me here too? I wasn’t on home ground, I wasn’t used to travel and I certainly wasn’t used to the tangled relationships between Aussie backpackers.
Christ, I hoped this wasn’t some elaborate plan for a threesome—and I was the last to know. If that were the case, Sue would be telling the story for years to come in the salon and Mandy would add her own fictitious caveats involving landing strips and intimate piercings. I could almost see the shock on Sue’s face when I told her who greeted us.
Gabby was holding the door open for me, Dan had gone on ahead and I felt so uncomfortable struggling past her with my case. I definitely got the feeling sh
e wasn’t pleased to see me, and I didn’t relish the thought of sleeping under the same roof as her. Who knew what she’d do to me in the dead of night while I slept unawares in my new M&S pyjamas? Judging by the way she’d greeted me, I reckoned she’d be hiding in my room with a bloody kitchen knife before the first week was out.
‘Leave your luggage here in the hall,’ she said, unsmiling. I put my new case down reluctantly. It seemed big and stupid and formal next to Dan’s bag, and I worried that if I left it anywhere near her she may open it up and shred the contents.
Walking on ahead on long brown legs in tiny denim shorts, Gabby showed us into a large, airy room. She was clinging to Dan, guiding him through (and away from me?) to the living room, ruffling his hair, giggling and just delighted to see him. I walked behind, feeling so out of it, like I’d been sent there for a job interview.
I stood in the doorway of the sitting room as she talked to Dan about Ben and Nick, ending each sentence with, ‘You know what he’s like?’ Her references were exclusive; she meant to keep me out and I couldn’t have joined in the conversation if I’d tried. Was I overreacting though? I had been a little much where Dan was concerned and I needed to chill out a bit; Dan was so delighted to be there, so I decided to ignore my concerns and embrace it. He was just beaming to be with one of his ‘mates’, both talking in the same Aussie accents, both looking like they’d turned up on a beach after a life in the sun. Not for the first time I wished I was ten years younger without an orange tan and an unwieldy suitcase bought with Tesco Clubcard points.
As they talked, I gazed round, observing the big squashy sofas and the strewn beer cans. A white muslin curtain wafted the sea breeze through a doorway that led to what I assumed was a balcony. I drank in the cool air, grateful for the respite from the searing heat and light. I leaned against Dan, tired from my flight but also feeling a little threatened and staking my claim. Gazing ahead, I suddenly jumped and let out a little yelp as one of the sofas appeared to move; ‘What was that?’
My finger ends tingled as I watched in horror, realising there were other humans, namely a couple of guys, strewn across the sofa fast asleep. Gabby and Dan laughed at my shock, but she laughed the loudest and longest. It wasn’t that funny.
‘Oh, Faye... what a fuss,’ she sighed, shaking her head like I was the biggest joke. ‘I think he’s called Jim... we picked him up last night—he had nowhere to stay. And you know what Nick’s like—he takes in anyone.’ Another smile and nod of recognition between them. I wanted to say, ‘No, I don’t know what fucking Nick’s like, but I do know that even cocky Australian women may be at risk with a bloody vagrant in their holiday home.’ Christ, I hoped there was a lock on our bedroom—‘Jim’ could take all my credit cards, murder us in our beds and be on the next boat to Athens.
I must have looked horrified, so Gabby used my gaucheness to do a little extra bohemian bonding with Dan. ‘Hey, don’t sweat it, Faye,’ she said to me, while looking at Dan. ‘Jim’s a pussycat.’ She wandered over, stroking his head and giggling. Dan just smiled, completely unfazed and unwittingly providing her with another exclusively shared moment.
I watched her stroke the sleeping stranger with the back of her hand but with her eyes only on Dan. I wasn’t paranoid after all; she was still interested in Dan, and she was making me feel like an intruder. Gabby was the first person I’d met from Dan’s world, and the first time I really questioned my presence there with him. I felt old, unfashionable, unworldly and foolish. I was beginning to wonder what I’d let myself in for, and if Dan’s love would last and be enough to sustain us in this foreign place.
I stood with my back flat against the cooling wall, wondering what to do next. Gabby went into the kitchen and Dan winked at me and followed her. I stayed where I was, unable to move. I heard them talking a little and when they returned, he was carrying two bottles of cold beer. He looked sleepy and more delicious than ever. He handed me a bottle and reached his arm around my shoulder in a comforting gesture which meant a lot to me. Any doubts I had began to melt as I buried my head in his chest, inhaling his sweet, faded sweat while my heart beat so loudly I wondered if they could hear.
I put my arm around him, glad to have him back by me, wishing she would tell us where we were sleeping so we could go and lock ourselves in, be alone. Standing against the doorway with her beer, she was observing us. I felt Dan’s lips on my head, felt the cool breeze dance the wafting curtain. I was looking at Jim the sleeping drifter... and Gabby was looking at me.
After a while, Dan took his arm away and, grabbing my hand, said, ‘Let’s look at the view... is it through here, Gabby?’ She half-nodded, letting go for now and wandering lethargically into the kitchen, taking her cold beer and frosty atmosphere with her.
We pulled back the curtain, leaving her behind, and I held my breath at the view—an almost navy-blue sea stitched into the hem of a deep, endless sky.
We stood together for some time, holding each other and drinking it all in. When one of us finally spoke, it was Dan. ‘I dreamed it would be like this... you and me, on a balcony,’ he sighed.
‘Me too...’ I hesitated. I wanted to address the elephant in the room, but wasn’t sure where to start. ‘I didn’t expect Gabby to be here,’ I said, pulling an ‘awkward’ face.
‘Yeah, I thought she was going to stay in Scotland and go back home from there, but... you’re okay with it, aren’t you? I mean she was so pleased to see us...’
‘Pleased to see you.’
‘Oh, she doesn’t know you yet. I think you two will get along great. She can be good fun, she’s easy-going, you know?’
I nodded, doubtfully.
‘Do you still have feelings for her?’ The shallow side of me couldn’t believe that he could possibly prefer me to someone who looked like Gabby. She was slim and young and beautiful and I was under no illusions she would win hands down in the looks department.
‘I’m fond of her... She’s just Gabby and I’m like a brother to her. She wears her heart on her sleeve.’
She wears her vagina on her sleeve, I thought, desperately willing myself not to say it out loud.
‘Anyway, we have time to relax first, before we see the sunset,’ he said, picking up my case and beckoning me to follow.
I wheeled my case along the corridor as Dan opened the bedroom door, ‘I think this is ours,’ he said, guiding me inside. It was fresh and cool, painted white, with a bleached wooden floor and a large window overlooking the sea. A huge iron bed stood in the middle of the room and I walked over to it, running my hand along the pure white linen. It was perfect, and I was overcome with a wave of happiness, determined no one was going to spoil this for either of us.
I took his hand and pulled him towards me and we kissed, falling onto the bed, unable to resist each other for a second longer. Within seconds my T-shirt was over my head, his bristly chin rubbed against my face, my breasts as he pulled at my clothes and me at his. I lay back and he moved gently on top of me, still kissing, both moaning with pent-up passion, relief that we’d finally made it to this place. I wrapped my legs around his firm, narrow back, feeling him inside me so quickly, but I was ready... I’d been ready all my life for this. I never wanted it to stop... we had finally found each other here in this magical place and it felt so right. It was so wonderful I cried.
Afterwards, he held me in his arms while we slept and woke and made love again and stayed together on the pure white cotton sheets.
‘Shall we stay here forever?’ I asked.
‘That would be nice... but it wouldn’t be long enough.’
I didn’t want to know how long we had; I just wanted to savour the days and nights we spent together.
‘Hey... the sun’s going down.’ He leaped from the bed like an excited little boy and stood at the window looking up at the sky like he was waiting for bonfire night.
I wandered to the window feeling like someone else.
‘You look lovely,’ he smiled, standing behind me, e
nclosing me in his arms. Everything was perfect and we stood for a while just watching the sky.
He suddenly sighed. ‘Do you think I might be able to convince you to come with me... to Sydney?’
‘Who knows? I reckon The Sydney Opera House could definitely be added to my living list,’ I smiled. I was struck by the shock of freedom; like a shot in the arm it almost took my breath away. Yes... I could go to Sydney if I wanted to, if Dan wanted me to. I could say ‘yes’; I could go anywhere, do anything, I thought, looking at the beautiful man standing next to me in this perfect, whitewashed room by the sea. This was going to be my summer of firsts... and I wasn’t ruling anything out.
We went back to bed, where we watched the melting pinks and deep oranges smeared across the Santorini sky, only leaving to stand before the window for the sun’s final denouement.
‘Our own private show tonight... I arranged it just for you,’ he said, hugging me close.
The sea was on fire and the sky flooded with liquid gold, and we stood together for a long time, like many lovers had before us, watching the Santorini sunset before we die.
* * *
The next few days were a blur of sunshine and happiness. Dan’s friends, including Gabby, would smile or say hi if we bumped into them in the hall or the kitchen, but for the most part everyone left us alone. We wandered hand in hand down little cobbled streets, drank coffee in little cafes on pavements, sipped wine as we watched the sunset and made love wherever and whenever we wanted to. We never tired of each other or the spectacular daily sunsets, sinking into the golden warmth together each evening; the sun seemed emotionally charged, like nature was in tune with our feelings.
I abandoned my sensible sandals, painted my toe nails aqua and bought white Birkenstocks. My orange tan was replaced by real gold and my hair became even more ‘Baywatch Blonde’, which had never seemed right in the UK but here it was perfect. My appearance was changing to fit in with the environment—white linen shirts, T-shirts, faded cut-off jeans, and a coloured braid plaited in my beach-blonde hair.
