by Mandy Baggot
Andras sat there, eyes moving back and forth between each person in turn, watching them react to his words almost as if he were no longer there. He was twenty-eight years old. He should not be treated like he was unable to manage his life on his own. He had started this train of conversation, he might as well get fully on board.
‘She does not live here all the time. We have been speaking on the telephone and through email,’ Andras spoke.
‘What?’ Isadora stated. And then her eyes narrowed, dark irises almost completely hidden as the shutters came down. ‘She is not Greek?’
The words were spat out. He almost felt sorry for this imaginary non-Greek girlfriend he had made up. He shook his head. ‘No, she is not Greek. She is …’ His mind somehow decided to go back to the Kalami Cove Apartments, the blonde-haired girl in a jacket, desperate to have a conversation with her iPhone. ‘She is English.’
Isadora and Marietta both seemed to inhale like they were going to commence a free-dive. Papa Yiannis made the sign of the cross from left to right on his chest. This was madness. And their behaviour was only fuelling his fire.
‘I am sure Marietta can deal with everything on your list, Mama. I really need to get back to work.’ Andras stood up quickly.
‘You will meet Marietta here, after evening dinner service. Ten o’ clock,’ Isadora said matter-of-factly.
He furrowed his brow. Had his mother not heard anything he’d said? ‘Mama—’
‘Do you think I was born in Byzantine times, Andras?’ Isadora asked. ‘You no more have a girlfriend than Papa Yiannis has a wife!’
The priest had the good grace to make another sign of the cross and pick up a glass of water. Andras stood his ground. ‘I do have a girlfriend.’
‘In England?’ Isadora asked.
‘Yes.’
‘So how then can you be meeting with this woman tonight?’
He swallowed, not enjoying his mother’s scrutiny. ‘She arrives later.’
‘Tonight?’
‘Yes.’ What was he doing?
‘She is coming here,’ Isadora continued. ‘To the restaurant.’
He gave an uncomfortable nod.
‘Good,’ Isadora stated. ‘Then we can all meet her for dinner. Do you have a photo?’
‘A photo?’
‘What does she look like?’
Why had he started this? Why hadn’t he just agreed to have dinner with Marietta? He could have made it clear he wasn’t in the market for a romance over the meal she had planned to make. Now he was having to invent people, make up a relationship that didn’t exist and the only person coming to mind was the woman from Kalami Cove.
‘She is blonde,’ he answered. ‘With eyes the colour of the sea.’ He swallowed, unable to face Marietta.
Isadora sucked in a long, slow breath. ‘Eyes the colour of the sea.’
He nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘Technology is amazing, isn’t it, Papa Yiannis?’ Isadora spoke, looking to the priest.
‘Oh, yes,’ he agreed readily.
‘Being able to tell someone’s eyes are the colour of the sea from just looking down the telephone.’
Andras smiled. ‘Technology has moved on from Byzantine times, Mama. I have a camera on my computer.’
Isadora narrowed her eyes again. ‘Well, let me tell you something else you will have if this carries on, Andras. You will have the prospect of your new silent business partner not remaining silent if you lie to me again.’ She picked up a fork from the table and squeezed her hand around it. ‘Remember what happened to Uncle Dimitri.’
‘Andras!’ Dorothea’s voice calling across the restaurant was his saviour.
He smiled at his mother, nodded to the priest and looked finally to Marietta. ‘I will see you tonight,’ he said, backing away.
Heading towards the kitchen he started to realise he now had just a few hours to get himself a girlfriend and a handful of days to find a new business partner. Or death-by-Greek-wedding was going to be the only thing on his menu.
Seven
Kalami Cove Apartments
‘I’m burning, aren’t I? Do you think I’m burning? See, if I turn this way … there’s a line – ow – muscle spasm.’
Tess turned her head away from the view of the calming sea to the body of Sonya, now laying on her side, pulling away the skin on one thigh for inspection. Sonya hadn’t been able to lie still for a second since they had changed into sunlounger wear. She had twisted and shifted in her new Bettylicious 1950s’-inspired bikini, talking about the heat, asking why the birds flitting to and from the paving around the pool didn’t seem to suffer from the high temperatures, and wondering what the weather was doing where Joey was. Apparently battle re-enactment costumes had very little in the way of venting. If that’s what he was actually doing. There had been conversation about how Sonya no longer actually knew what he was doing because they were on a break and Tess knew the break was all but breaking her friend’s heart.
‘Pop a bit more cream on,’ Tess suggested. In between the heart-to-hearts she had been trying to find her Zen, except she was sure she would have a better chance of nailing it down if she could just check there were no emails from McKenzie Falconer. She had left the Blackberry Boudoir wine-bar chain portfolio still in limbo over their branding. At the last meeting it was down to a dancing berry as its avatar or a bottle peeping out from behind a sexy-looking curtain. Maybe it wasn’t exactly a potential Act of God to avoid, like the annoying Greek guy had poked her with earlier, but it mattered. And in this day and age, there should be accessible Internet connection in all corners of Europe.
‘Ooo, look, it’s a lizard!’
Tess leapt up off the lounger in less time than it took a traffic warden to arrive when your parking ticket had run out. Sunglasses falling off her face, feet struggling to get into her shoes, she slipped sideways, bottom dropping then quickly connecting with an inflatable doughnut. She sunk down into the hole.
‘Oh, Tess, are you all right? Goodness,’ Sonya said, trying to get up. ‘What happened?’
‘That!’ Tess exclaimed. ‘That brown thing!’ She kicked her legs, trying to get up and out of the rubber ring.
‘What? Is there something in the pool?’ Sonya asked, her eyes darting to the water. ‘That child who’s been pulling at her swim nappy for the last half an hour?’ She tutted. ‘I’ve never been convinced of the elasticity of swim nappies but not being a mother myself I’ve—’
‘The lizard!’ Tess interrupted. She eyed it. It was no longer than a Snickers, the width of a KitKat, but it had a bright blue head and it was looking back at her like it wanted to get intimate. God, was this what happened when you pledged to stay single for the summer? The local wildlife smelled a loner from thirty paces?
‘It’s so cute,’ Sonya said. ‘I’m going to take a photo of it.’
The lizard advanced, a scurry of six inches or so that had Tess clinging to the doughnut and holding her breath. ‘Make it go away,’ she breathed.
‘Make it go away?’ Sonya asked, easing herself off the lounger and picking up her phone. ‘Don’t be silly. People go out hiking, searching for days to find beautiful little lizards like this. It’s one of the reasons Joey and I booked this holiday. Wildlife wherever you look!’
As Sonya’s camera on her phone made a click, the lizard shot forward and Tess let out a scream that had everyone around the complex looking her way.
‘Tess, you’re not scared, are you?’ Sonya asked.
‘No! Of course not!’ Tess answered. She let out another scream as the lizard darted back out from under the table. ‘Help me! Get me out of this doughnut!’
‘He won’t hurt you,’ Sonya said, taking another photo of the reptile as she slowly moved towards Tess.
‘I’m pretty sure that’s what my father said about the horse at pony club just seconds before it tried to savage my cheek.’
Tess swallowed back her fear, remembering her dad, holding her up to the dappled grey gelding.
She was four, a novice rider, inquisitive enough to reach out over the stable door to try to pat the horse’s nose. In a split second the horse had rounded, knocked her riding hat off her head and tried to bite a chunk out of her face. Only her dad’s quick reactions in smacking the horse on the nose and pulling her away stopped the injury turning from bruising to open wound. There were tears over the drama that day but no permanent scars. Completely the opposite to her wedding day. If only her dad had just held her that day like he had after the incident with the horse. She took a breath. It had been almost six months since she had last had any contact with either of them. Every time her mum phoned she let it go to voicemail then listened to the ‘checking-in’ message she just couldn’t face hearing live any more. Then, when she was certain her mum wouldn’t be home, she left her own message on her answerphone. Still paying off the loans they had taken out to cover the cost and nothing to show for it. Tess knew they would never forgive her. And why should they? She couldn’t forgive herself.
‘Come on,’ Sonya said, holding out her hand. ‘Up you get.’
‘Where is it? It’s not nice when they creep up on you and invade your space,’ Tess stated, straightening her sunglasses.
‘Your space?’ Sonya queried with a laugh. ‘You’re outside. Outside is his space.’ She giggled. ‘Fresh New Day isn’t just an Ambi-Pur fragrance you know.’
Tess picked up her cocktail and put the straw in her mouth. She wasn’t outdoorsy, some people just weren’t, and there was nothing wrong with that. But if you were that way inclined you should really add it as a hobby to your online dating profile. She had wasted three one-night dates on secret outdoorsy men. There had even been one who felt the need to talk about the workings of a cow’s stomachs during a steak dinner.
‘So,’ Sonya began, sitting back down on the sunlounger and putting her phone on the table. ‘What are we going to do tonight?’
‘Hopefully not hiking through the mountain looking for rare species of reptile.’
‘Well, my thoughts were that we check out one of the cute little tavernas there’s meant to be on the beach and spend the evening just sitting back, relaxing, taking it all in, you know, filling ourselves with something Greek.’
Tess swallowed. Yes, her immediate thoughts to the words ‘filling ourselves with something Greek’ meant she really did need to get back on the metaphorical horse – not the vicious grey from pony club. She needed to find some sort of companionship distraction despite this ridiculous all-girl rule. Alex at the bar said the restaurant the queue-jumper worked at had Wi-Fi. That would allow her to sift through potential mates ready for her return to London, and perhaps, if she was careful – when Sonya wasn’t looking – there might be someone able to provide a little flirtation action. It had been over a week since the proposal. She needed to know her pheromones were still giving off ‘no strings attached’ rather than ‘desperately seeking a husband’.
‘There’s a taverna called … something beginning with “G” that’s supposed to be good,’ Tess stated, sitting back down.
‘Is there?’ Sonya asked. ‘Have you been reading my Marco Polo?’
Tess looked at her quizzically. ‘The barman told me.’
Sonya laughed. ‘Sorry, it’s just Joey and me had this joke about guidebooks.’ She sighed. ‘He would hide them right before a trip and I’d call out “Marco” and he would say “Polo” until I got close and …’ Sonya stopped, tears filling her eyes. ‘Obviously, we didn’t get to play that game this time.’
‘Stop,’ Tess said. ‘Put your cocktail straw in your mouth and stop.’ She picked up Sonya’s drink and pushed it towards her. ‘I propose we lay here a little bit longer, peacefully, letting the sun and that sea breeze gently rock us into maybe a little bit of a sleep …’ She watched Sonya’s eyelids drop slightly. ‘Then we get showered and changed and head out for some Greek food and even more drink.’
Sonya sighed, putting down her cocktail glass. ‘That’s a good idea. I am a bit tired from the journey. Travelling does make you tired, doesn’t it?’ She yawned.
‘You lie back and relax,’ Tess said, her hand snaking down into her bag. If Sonya nodded off for half an hour she was almost sure she could shake some life out of a GPRS signal and peruse some potential mates on Hooked Up. Or she could find a site she hadn’t tried before, maybe use a different name, like Patricia.
‘If I drop off,’ Sonya said, closing her eyes, her voice thick with tiredness, ‘you have to promise me you won’t fall in any more doughnuts.’
Tess smiled. ‘I promise.’
‘And no dating apps,’ Sonya whispered, voice close to sleep.
What? Tess swallowed. Perhaps if she held off answering right away Sonya would slip into a snooze and she wouldn’t have to say anything.
‘Did you hear me?’
Shit. ‘Mmm … I heard you.’
‘And no flirting with the barman either,’ Sonya added. ‘Although he does have a lovely smile.’
‘Looking’s allowed, I remember,’ Tess answered.
She took her hand out of her bag and focused again on the beautiful view of the coastline. Two sail boats, their multicoloured sails waving in the light breeze, moved across the ocean like a pair of elegant skaters on ice. Tess knew that keeping single shouldn’t be this hard but she was the self-styled Queen of the Dating Scene. Without that OCD need to have someone on her arm, she wasn’t sure who she was any more. And that was the biggest problem of all.
Eight
Taverna Georgiou
‘I need a girlfriend,’ Andras stated. ‘And she has to have blue eyes.’
A bead of perspiration rolled across his forehead as he pulled off his shoes and settled himself down on the wooden dock next to his brother, feet hanging just above the sparkling water.
Spiros looked up. ‘Am I supposed to laugh now, Andras?’
He shook his head. ‘No. I am serious.’ He pulled in a breath.
‘You need a girlfriend,’ Spiros said again. ‘After eighteen months of showing no interest in anyone whenever we have been out, now you want someone?’
‘Yes. No. Not really.’ He was going to have to spell it out. ‘You were right about Mama’s plans with Marietta.’ He dipped a toe into the water. ‘They started talking about dinners and being together for things to do with the wedding and …’ He lowered his voice. ‘Papa Yiannis was there.’
‘Papa Yiannis was there?’ Spiros stated. ‘He was supposed to be meeting with me earlier and he did not come to the house.’
‘I’m sorry?’ Andras offered.
‘You think you have problems?’ Spiros said, shaking out the two large sheets of paper in his hands. ‘Look at these.’
Andras observed the paper, eyes trying to scrutinise the text written on them, bright sunlight preventing their reading. ‘What are they?’
‘What are they? he says.’ Spiros shook his head. ‘I take it you did not have these for your wedding.’
Andras swallowed. ‘You know that Mama did not want to acknowledge my wedding.’
‘These are my rules,’ Spiros continued. ‘This list’ – he shook his left hand – ‘are all the things I have to do before the wedding.’ He shook the paper in his right hand. ‘This list, much longer, are all the things I must make sure I do not do before the wedding.’
‘You would like me to look at them?’ Andras offered. He no more had the time to look at this than he had the time to have dinner with Marietta but, for now, his staff were handling the late-afternoon crowd.
‘No! I don’t even want to look at them!’ Spiros announced, his bare feet splashing in the water.
‘OK,’ Andras said. ‘We can do one of two things here.’
‘Go on.’
‘We can either begin to go through these lists or we can find me a temporary girlfriend.’
Spiros looked at him. ‘I don’t understand. What do you need a temporary girlfriend for?’ he asked. ‘Just spend some time with Marietta this week, then when the
wedding is over things will die down.’
‘I can’t do that now,’ Andras told him.
‘Why not?’
‘Because …’ He knew how stupid this was going to sound. He sunk his feet a little lower into the water. ‘Because I told Mama, and Marietta, and Papa Yiannis … that I have a girlfriend.’
‘What?!’ Spiros exclaimed. ‘Are you out of your mind?’
‘It gets worse,’ Andras added.
‘How could it?’
‘I said she was English.’
Spiros slapped his own forehead, one of the papers fluttering out of his grasp and floating down towards the sea. Andras reached out, grabbing it quickly and pressing it to his chest to flatten the creases.
‘You are crazy. You lied to Mama, and to our priest!’ Spiros exclaimed. ‘Do you have a death wish?’
‘Not at the moment. Because if I die now, I fear I would end up straight down past the Earth’s core.’
‘Well, you just have to tell the truth. Before it’s too late.’
Andras shook his head. ‘No. I just have to find someone English with blonde hair and blue eyes who can pretend to be my girlfriend for … a short while.’ His thoughts kept going to the woman he had met at Alex’s apartments. The person he had somehow immediately thought of when he was creating this make-believe girlfriend. He didn’t even know her name.
‘Andras, it is almost my wedding,’ Spiros began. ‘I have these lists-to-do and lists-to-not-do, and you want me to find you a fake girlfriend with blonde hair.’
‘And blue eyes,’ Andras added. ‘Who is English.’
‘As I said: crazy!’ Spiros threw his hands up in the air.
‘Please, Spiros, anything you want.’ He seemed to be saying that a lot lately and having nothing to back it up. ‘Help me with this.’
Spiros shook his head.
‘You know English people,’ Andras continued. ‘Kira knows English people from her work cooking with the villa company.’
‘Andras …’ Spiros began.
‘It’s just for a week, until after the wedding.’
