by Mandy Baggot
Was it Tess’s imagination or did a beam of sunlight just hit Marietta’s cheeks and make her complexion look even more smooth and absolutely-no-need-for-concealer-here ready? Her own cheeks seemed to crease on instinct. She forced a smile, perhaps a facial muscle exercise would reduce lines. ‘What would you like us to bring to the meal tonight?’
‘Bring?’
Isadora said the innocent word with such volume and ferocity she made it sound like a deep insult.
‘Yes,’ Sonya verbally stepped in. ‘We’re very much looking forward to it. We could bring some wine and some nibbles. We had the most lovely oregano crisps—’
‘Nibbles?’
Now the picking random words out of their sentences was getting a little annoying. If she really was Andras’s girlfriend, and Sonya was an important client she was entertaining for business, she would feel put out by this woman’s lack of manners. For all Isadora knew, she could be becoming Tess’s mother-in-law one day. She swallowed. It was time to start fully embracing this role.
Tess reached forward and patted Isadora on the arm. ‘We’ll bring red and white wine and the crisps.’ She directed a smile at Marietta. ‘Andras loves crisps.’ She batted her eyelashes at Isadora. ‘What time would you like us to arrive?’
‘This is why we came to meet you here,’ Marietta stated. ‘Tonight, it is for the family. There is no need for you to come along.’ She smiled. ‘It is very Greek and we will all be talking in Greek, and you will find this very boring.’
Ah! They were here to try to brush her off! Conflicting feelings were invading her gut like a stand-off at the Battle of Waterloo. She and Sonya could spend the night at the White House as planned, not pretending to be called by any other name, just eating and drinking and being on holiday. But she was Andras’s girlfriend to them, and what would backing out say about their relationship? They were supposed to be going out, having had an intimate time together earlier this year. A romantic glass-bottomed boat trip at a difficult-to-pronounce place beginning with ‘P’. She had flown here to spend time with him. If this were real, she would not just shrug her shoulders and say OK. Not if he really meant something to her, and that was the story. And, if she didn’t go, what would Andras’s fate be? Forcibly suctioned to his cousin for the evening? His marriage being planned out between courses?
‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ Tess answered. She’d almost sounded menacing. She cleared her throat. ‘Andras is so looking forward to introducing me to the whole family before the wedding.’
‘There is not enough food for additional guests,’ Marietta countered.
‘Please!’ Tess stated with a laugh. ‘I may not speak the language – yet – but if there’s one thing I know about your lovely country, it’s that no one ever goes hungry.’
‘All those gorgeous dishes ending in “a”,’ Sonya added, with a lick of her lips.
Tess focused her gaze on Isadora, almost daring her to uninvite them. Eye to eye, strong will to strong will. She wasn’t going to give up. She always won now. It had taken time, but once she’d learnt to unshackle success and triumph from the ball and chain of emotions, and see them simply in terms of results, there was nothing to get in her way.
Isadora still had her eyes on her but Tess held on, her expression, she hoped, giving nothing away. Finally, the Greek woman opened her mouth to speak.
‘We will eat kleftiko.’ The ‘o’ was emphasised so much the sound could have started an earthquake.
Tess smiled. ‘It sounds delicious, doesn’t it, Sonya?’
‘Absolutely,’ Sonya replied, nodding quickly. ‘Utterly delicious.’
‘Seven?’ Tess asked, this time looking to Marietta.
‘As you wish,’ Andras’s cousin replied.
‘Right,’ Tess said. ‘We had better head back to our apartment and start getting ready.’ She smiled again at Marietta. ‘I have a new dress I think Andras is going to just love.’
With those words said, Tess sashayed past the two women, hoping to God she was going to make it along the pontoon in her wedges without turning her ankle over.
‘That was a bit scary,’ Sonya whispered, arriving at her shoulder. ‘Isadora had that same look in her eyes Kathy Bates has in Misery.’ Sonya shuddered. ‘That poor lamb for the kleftiko. I wonder how long it was shackled before it met its maker?’
‘Probably not as long as Andras will be if he marries Marietta.’
‘You’re right,’ Sonya agreed.
‘So, you’re still OK with this?’ Tess asked, looking to her friend as they stopped, preparing to step down onto the beach.
‘Being Susan?’ Sonya said with a smile.
Tess sighed. ‘Yes.’
Sonya linked her arm through Tess’s and guided her down on to the stones. ‘I think by the time we get to the pudding tonight, Andras will be offering to take us out on the boat again.’ She drew in a breath. ‘And I did love the boat.’
‘Me too,’ Tess admitted.
‘And you hardly touched your phone all day,’ Sonya added.
She swallowed. She still had an avatar of a penis to sort out. Bloody Blackberry Boudoir!
‘Who needs dating apps when you have a fake boyfriend,’ Sonya whispered, nudging her with her elbow.
Her stomach pinged at that comment, Sonya’s words reminding her. She was single. Still single. Going on three weeks now. It was the longest spell she had been without someone since she’d made the pledge. If she didn’t do something soon, she might have to get a cat.
Twenty-six
Andras Georgiou’s home, Kalami
‘Why do you do this, Hector? I feed you. I have given you plenty of space.’ Andras sighed, observing the large wooden pen he had constructed in the early hours of the morning. ‘How do you get out?’
The tortoise seemed to grin as it munched on a cabbage he had given it. What was he doing talking to the animal? Did he think it might actually reply? Perhaps he was losing his mind here.
One hand on the fence surround, he leapt up and out over the solid wall of the enclosure. Resting his back against the panels, he looked out at his view. It was as striking as the day he had first come up here to see the land. Then it had been nothing but scrub – a tangled web of spiky plants all fighting against each other – but he had seen its potential at once. Clear the undergrowth, work around and together with the terrain, keeping the staggering sea views at its heart. His heart had sung the moment he had arrived here, his arms grazed by thorns, scrambling through the thickets of gorse until he had got to the very edge of the precipice and the uninterrupted scene of azure water and the beach below. He swallowed, remembering how differently Elissa had reacted to the plot.
He turned around, facing the house he had started to build for them. She had not seen what he had seen. She had seen too much work. She had seen time spent in the bare bones of a shack that had stood at one edge of the site, not as the beginnings of something very special and worth waiting for, but as a chaotic mess that would never be finished. A fantasy home that would never be realised.
Looking up at the glass-frontage of his large, open living space, he knew buying the land and starting this project had been the right thing to do. It still might not be finished, but it would be, in time. For him it had never been about the end product; the journey itself had been, and still was, ultimately satisfying. Even if there was no longer anyone to share it with.
He checked his watch. He had an hour to get showered and changed before he needed to be back at the restaurant. Before the dinner at his mother’s, he wanted to make sure his staff were going to manage tonight without him. He turned back to Hector and eyed the seemingly content tortoise. ‘Please, stay here tonight. Just until I am certain my mother is not going to put you on the wedding menu.’
The tortoise elongated its tongue and made a groan.
Andras nodded. ‘Yes, Hector, that is exactly how I feel.’
Twenty-seven
Kalami Cove Apartments
‘Rus
sell, it looks like a penis.’
Tess ground her teeth together and simultaneously pressed the telephone to her ear a little tighter. She didn’t think she had ever said the word ‘penis’ so many times in such a short space of time. She even suspected a career porn actress had said the word ‘penis’ less.
‘And just what sort of fruit are the two genitalia accompanying it meant to be? Because they don’t look like blackberries,’ she continued.
From her position overlooking the apartment gardens Sonya let out a snigger.
‘No, what I want to know, Russell, is when did my clients start wanting their branding to contain pornographic cartoon-esque fruits as opposed to my classy, sophisticated icons they all but signed off on before I went on holiday!’
She hadn’t meant to raise her voice but Russell didn’t seem to be seeing the issue here. Surely someone else in McKenzie Falconer could see that this signage looked like the most private part of a man’s anatomy!
She baulked at his answer and then swallowed. He couldn’t be serious.
‘I’m sorry, Russell, what did you say?’ she checked. ‘They’re meant to be mangoes?’ What did she do with that? She settled for clearing her throat. ‘So, are they changing the company name now? Because I was under the impression our clients’ business was called “Blackberry Boudoir” not “Mango Magic” or “Club Tropicana”.’
Sonya rasped out another laughy gasp and Tess turned away, trying to concentrate on the phone conversation alone. She didn’t blame her friend for finding this amusing; she would too, if it wasn’t her professional mess to sort out.
‘So, have they signed off on these new designs yet?’ she asked. She waited for the answer before carrying on. ‘So, have they even seen these designs yet?’ Now she was praying. She didn’t care if the company had decided blackberries were too quintessentially English and the avatar needed to have a more worldwide appeal, she was damn sure they wouldn’t want the universal sign of the willy. ‘They haven’t.’ She breathed out, the tension in her shoulders reminding her it was still there and no amount of blue sky and sunshine was going to rid her of it completely.
‘Then this can be fixed, Russell. You go with my designs. Like we planned.’ He was trying to interrupt her now. She hated it when he did that. ‘You tell them what will work best for their business,’ Tess carried on. ‘Tell them that to have other fruits – rude-looking or not – on their branding would be confusing. It would be like having Budweiser with little wine bottles and apples on the label – wait, what did you just say?’ She’d tried not to be put off by his interruptions but … ‘Did you say you wanted me to produce new images?’ Now she felt sick. ‘I can’t do that, Russell, I’m on holiday, in Greece, and if you think the Internet is bad in that Midsomer village you live in, you want to try coming over here. Russell, I can’t. I have no laptop, no design software, no …’ God she needed some wine … or some ouzo. ‘You want me to draw them. With a pencil and paper.’
Sonya wasn’t laughing now or looking at the outside space. She was staring right at her, open-mouthed.
‘Russell, that’s a really big ask. You know ordinarily I would.’ She shook her head, the contents of her stomach rising rapidly. ‘Drafts in three days?’ She blew out a breath, shoulder blades contracting together.
Sonya was shaking her head and rapidly moving towards her, a worried look on her face.
‘I can’t promise it will be my best work but … She looked at Sonya. ‘But I can promise you it won’t look like a dick, or make you look like one when you present it to the clients.’ She turned her back on Sonya. ‘OK. I’ll see what I can do. OK. Bye.’
She ended the call and closed her eyes, knowing what was to come.
‘Please tell me you didn’t just do that,’ Sonya began. ‘You didn’t just do that, did you?’
‘Do what?’ Tess asked, turning back and opening one eyelid at a time.
‘You’re going to work! Do designs! On holiday!’
‘You only said I had to stay single. You didn’t say I couldn’t work,’ Tess countered.
‘Tess, it’s supposed to be a holiday. You’re meant to be relaxing,’ Sonya reminded her.
‘How could I? Knowing that Russell and whatever other dipshit drew a cock for branding were trying to wreck my portfolio? I bet it was Craig. He’s just way too keen about everything.’
‘So, when are you going to fit this designing in? Over dinner with your fake boyfriend’s family? Or tomorrow when we’re meant to be sightseeing?’
Sonya did have a point. She would probably be sick if she had to work on a speedboat. ‘It’s not for you to worry. I’ll still be there looking for dolphins with you.’
Sonya sighed. ‘It isn’t me I’m worried about. It’s you.’
‘I’m fine,’ Tess stated. ‘A little lacking in the real boyfriend department but I made a promise to you and this could actually help.’
‘Using work as a dating distraction?’
‘Well …’ She was, wasn’t she? She’d momentarily panicked when Russell had suggested she draw something but then sweet relief had walked in. McKenzie Falconer needed her. She was necessary. She was saving the day. There was more to life than having a partner on her arm. God, she really did need sex though.
‘They take you for granted,’ Sonya continued. ‘They take everyone for granted.’ She sighed. ‘I know I may only work in the post room but I see it filter from the top downwards. The CEO passes his stress down to the board, the board passes it down to the managers … before anyone has realised it they’re all behaving like nasty, evil robots who have sold their souls and moved to No-Weekends-Off-Ever-Town, and their health suffers and their family lives suffer and … the poor, poor babies.’
As Sonya hit the ‘b’ word she burst into tears and Tess hurried to help her sit down on one of the terrace chairs before she collapsed. Her friend started waving her hand in front of her face. ‘I’m fine. I’m totally fine.’
Tess sat down opposite her, squeezing her hands in hers. ‘Any update on Joey in Margate?’
Sonya shook her head, tears escaping.
‘And you loved the post?’
‘Y-yes,’ Sonya stated.
‘Well, that’s good. No news is good news.’ She smiled. ‘And we’ll take a selfie halfway up the mountain later, get the best views in focus and us looking all tanned and gorgeous and we’ll post that.’
Sonya nodded.
‘Then, once we’ve eaten all this lamb and ensured Andras doesn’t end up chained to a bed by his cousin in a non-Fifty-Shades-Misery-ankle-breaking-way, you can help me brainstorm ideas for Blackberry Boudoir that don’t involve erotic plums.’
‘No erotic plums,’ Sonya repeated, nodding.
‘Unless it’s the name of a cocktail,’ Tess said. ‘Then we might have a lot more than just a pair.’
‘I see what you did there.’
‘So, do we have a deal? Tanned, gorgeous Facebook photos, no rude fruits and as much fun as we can manage at a big, fat, Greek wedding dinner.’
‘Deal, Patricia,’ Sonya agreed.
Tess smiled. ‘We’re in this together, Susan. Sister suffragettes.’
‘Without the hunger strikes, unless they really don’t have much food tonight.’
‘Trust me,’ Tess stated. ‘We are going to eat like queens.’ She smiled. ‘Come on, Andras will be here soon.’ She stood up and brushed her hands down the front of the new lemon-coloured peplum dress she was wearing. An updated profile picture on Hooked Up might not go amiss if she could sneak a peek on there later and this was definitely the dress to do it in.
‘He does have a car, doesn’t he?’ Sonya asked. ‘Because I’m still worried about the whole leg-over thing.’
‘He said he had a car.’
There was a loud beep of a horn that sounded like it was coming from somewhere near the front of the main building. Tess looked at Sonya.
‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’ Sonya asked.
‘That he’s here already and you haven’t sprayed us with insect repellent yet?’
‘No.’ Sonya shook her head. ‘That that horn didn’t sound like it belonged to a car.’
Twenty-eight
Of all the times for his car not to start this was the worst. Ordinarily, Andras did not have to transport anyone anywhere. Usually it would be just him and perhaps some boxes of items for the restaurant. It was never two women dressed for a dinner party. He swallowed as he saw Tess and Sonya appear at the archway at the front of Kalami Cove Apartments. This was his fault, making a joke about his moped. He looked over his shoulder to Babis on the moped behind him. Babis should be cooking right now, not playing taxi. But there was nothing he could do. He just needed to get on with this.
He waved a hand at the pair, smiling and turning the throttle a little. He already knew what reaction he was going to get from Tess. If she could not stand to get her bare feet dirty, she was not going to be the kind of girl to relish a ride on a moped.
‘You are ready?’ he asked when they were close enough to hear him.
‘That depends,’ Tess answered. Her eyes were going from him to the body of the vehicle he was sitting astride. ‘Where’s your car?’
‘About that …’
‘There isn’t one, is there?’ Sonya said, looking nervous.
‘You said you had a car,’ Tess followed it up.
‘I do have a car,’ he answered.
‘Then …’
‘I am afraid that today my car decides to behave like the Wi-Fi. It is not working.’
He looked to Tess, waiting for her to digest that information.
‘Then we’ll call a taxi,’ she stated.
He shook his head. ‘There are no taxis in Kalami.’
‘What?’
‘Taxis are for the main towns only. If we call a taxi it will come from Acharavi. It will take perhaps half an hour, maybe more.’
‘Look at me,’ Tess stated.
He watched her stand tall. The stunning dress that hugged her figure and stopped mid-thigh was not lost on him.
