by Mandy Baggot
Isadora folded her arms across her chest and pinned him with a furious look. ‘You are meeting Patricia.’
‘Patricia – Tess –is coming with me, yes. And Susan, I mean, Sonya.’
‘So, what sort of business is to be done with two English people with you?’
‘Mama, Tess is a businesswoman.’
‘Is this business to do with the restaurant?’ Isadora didn’t wait for him to make any reply. ‘It is, isn’t it? This is just what I was saying, about her wanting you for your business interests. Well, if it is to do with the restaurant then I should come with you.’ She banged her stick on the flagstone floor.
He didn’t want that. He couldn’t have that. He was nervous enough about the meeting without having his mother breathing down his neck. And then there was how things were with Tess, his feelings for Tess. He had no idea how that was going to change things today, and for as long as she was here on Corfu.
‘I will tell you all about it when I get back,’ he said, stepping away from the group. ‘Dorothea, call Giannis. He will know where to get tomatoes at short notice.’
‘Andras!’ Isadora exclaimed.
‘Isadora, we do have to meet with the florist,’ Marietta spoke.
‘Andras!’ Isadora shouted again, banging her stick.
He waved a hand and called over his shoulder. ‘Relax, Mama, focus on the wedding.’
Fifty-eight
Kalami Cove Apartments
Tess brushed her hands down the sundress she was wearing and looked at her feet. She had opted to wear the plain flip-flops Andras had bought her from Agios Spyridon. And as he came to mind, her stomach abseiled down to somewhere near her French-manicured toenails. She had stayed up late last night to finalise the Black Velvet designs and in every keystroke, every pencilled line she drew, was Andras. Her vision for this brand had changed since she had been here. To begin with, she had thought ultra-contemporary had to be hard, bold and fierce to compete on the high street and in the chain’s marketing. But, with the new company name – albeit unapproved – had come the realisation that the wine bars were offering relaxation, escape, perhaps not quite in the same way Taverna Georgiou was, but Destination Unwind all the same. She smiled to herself, hugging Andras’s laptop to her body. She had put together projections for his bank meeting too and that seemed to be making her ridiculously happy.
Sonya let out a sigh and dropped her mobile phone down from her ear.
‘Still no answer?’ Tess asked softly.
‘No,’ Sonya replied. ‘It just goes straight to voicemail now.’
She slipped an arm around her friend’s shoulders. ‘Don’t worry, remember?’
‘I know,’ Sonya said, nodding. ‘I’ve got lots of sightseeing to do. The two forts, the esplanade, the bust of Gerald Durrell.’
The blast of a horn startled them both and Tess shielded her eyes from the sun to look down the road. Fotis’s truck was heading towards them.
‘Oh, it’s Fotis!’ Sonya exclaimed, waving at the approaching vehicle.
‘He’s stopping,’ Tess said as the truck drew to a halt.
The window wound down and Andras’s face appeared from the cab. ‘Kalimera,’ he greeted.
‘Oh!’ Sonya exclaimed. ‘You’re not Fotis.’
‘No,’ he replied. ‘My car would not start again and Spiros, he needs his. Something to do with ropes and one of the blue caves on his lists.’
He looked sizzling hot in another bright white shirt, his hair perfectly in place, his gorgeous lips that could do special things … She swallowed. She needed to pull herself together. ‘Do you have a licence to drive a lorry?’ she called up to him.
He smiled at her. ‘We have to get to Corfu Town, no?’
Fifty-nine
Corfu Town
Tess took in the busy, bustling, vibrant city as Andras navigated the truck around the town looking for somewhere to park. There was something here to delight every sightseer, from the two forts (Old and New), to the residential area of Cambiello with its four- or five-storey ancient buildings guarding the labyrinth of winding streets, laundry on lines across the narrow lanes, dogs and cats sitting beneath archways of cream and terracotta enjoying the heat of the day.
‘My book says it is best to park at the Old Harbour and walk into the main town,’ Sonya commented, head in the pages of her Marco Polo while they bumped along at pace.
‘Yes, but it will be full now,’ Andras answered.
‘It’s only a little after nine,’ Tess said, checking her watch.
‘To be in with a chance of parking in Corfu Town you must arrive before seven o’clock,’ he responded. He turned his head slightly and smiled at her. ‘An English seven o’clock.’
‘So, what are we going to do?’ Tess asked. ‘You have the meeting and …’
‘Do not worry,’ he answered. ‘For today we are just going to pretend we are a coach.’
Andras parked the truck behind an exhaust fumes-spewing coach that looked as if its best days were behind it and Tess followed Sonya in the most inelegant disembarkation known to woman. Once on the ground they were treated to a spectacular view of the Old Fort. Sonya had her camera out before the dust had settled under her sandals.
‘Wow!’ Sonya exclaimed. ‘Look at that … it looks like a beautiful, crumbly, historic cake sat on a bed of sparkling ocean.’
Tess breathed in the humidity and sunshine, letting the heat prickle her skin as she gazed at the Venetian architecture. It was layer upon layer of greying stone interspersed with greenery climbing up its walls, all surrounded by the aquamarine sea, yachts with their tall masts bobbing at the bottom of its steep walls.
‘It is special, no?’ Andras said.
Tess shivered, now realising how close he was and her whole body immediately reacting to that.
‘It’s beautiful,’ she replied. ‘But then, the whole island is beautiful.’
‘Ne,’ he said, nodding.
‘You can go now!’ Sonya called, heading closer to the wall, camera still focused on the fort.
‘Go?’ Tess inquired.
‘Yes, to the meeting at the bank.’
‘Andras has a meeting at the bank,’ Tess replied. ‘I was going to sightsee with you.’
‘I don’t need you to sightsee and you don’t like museums and I won’t want to go in the designer shops … besides, don’t you need to show Andras the projections?’
‘Well, yes, but …’ Tess faltered.
‘You have done the work for me on my accounts?’ Andras asked her.
She nodded. ‘Yes, but I was just going to go through it with you quickly so you could present it to the bank. I don’t need to be there and—’
‘Going now!’ Sonya called. ‘I’ll text you!’
‘Sonya!’ Tess yelled at her retreating friend.
‘I have maps! Good luck!’
Tess swallowed. She knew what her friend was doing. This was because she had admitted she had feelings for Andras. Sonya was trying to do a bit of matchmaking and now she was backed into a bit of a corner.
‘It is OK,’ Andras said. ‘You do not have to come to the bank with me.’
‘No, I … it’s just …’ She didn’t really know what she wanted to say. She batted a mosquito away from her face and blew out a breath. A few days earlier she might have screamed about the insect. So much seemed to have changed. ‘I just didn’t want to leave Sonya on her own or turn up to the bank with a whole entourage but, seeing as she’s left me to rub Gerald Durrell’s bust or something …’ Tess smiled. ‘Can we get out of the heat? I fear your laptop might melt if we don’t and then where would we be?’
He smiled at her and slipped his hands into his pockets, drawing something out. ‘I have paper.’
Sixty
‘This place is so buzzy!’ Tess remarked over the street sounds of mopeds, traffic and a red-and-white uniformed brass band playing under the ornate bandstand. ‘But nothing like London.’ She looked across at Andras. ‘I m
eant that in a good way.’
‘What is London like?’ Andras asked her.
‘Hectic and stressful, but eclectic … and wonderful all at the same time.’
‘You have lived there a long time?’
‘No, well, since Adam.’ She swallowed. She’d said his name again and it seemed that now she had started saying it here in Greece, each mention hurt just a little bit less. She cleared her throat as they carried on walking up the esplanade. ‘I come from a small village.’
‘Like Kalami?’ Andras inquired.
‘It isn’t quite as lovely as Kalami,’ she admitted. ‘And it has more cows than goats and tortoises.’
Andras stopped walking and took a deep breath. Tess turned her head then, and saw the sign: Beta Bank.
‘We are here,’ he stated. ‘We will have time to go through the numbers on the computer and then …’
‘Don’t worry,’ Tess urged. She wanted to touch him. Take his hand or put her hand on his shoulder and just connect with him. Let him know she knew how important this was for him. Instead she held steady. ‘Everything is going to be OK. You have a great business and so much potential.’
‘But not enough tomatoes,’ he said, sighing.
‘What?’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ he replied. ‘Come on. We will go in.’ He pushed at the door.
Andras could remember the last time he had felt this nervous. It was meeting up with Elissa at the lawyer’s office to complete the paperwork for their divorce. Her pregnant swell had been obvious then and, as he signed his name to the end of their marriage, it was an extra dart to his heart to know that she was literally starting a brand-new life without him.
The all-marble office was cool and air-conditioned, for which he was grateful, and he led the way to approach the desk.
He spoke in Greek. ‘Andras Georgiou to see—’
‘Good morning, Mr Georgiou, Mr Giantsiorhs will see you now.’
‘What?’ He turned and looked at Tess. Wetting his lips, he turned back to the receptionist. ‘My appointment is not for another half an hour.’
‘What’s happening?’ Tess asked. ‘What is she saying?’
‘Mr Giantsiorhs is running ahead of schedule so he can see you now,’ the receptionist repeated.
‘He can see me now,’ Andras said to Tess.
‘Now?’ Tess exclaimed. ‘Now now?’
He nodded. ‘What do we do?’ He lowered his voice, eyes locking with hers. ‘I haven’t looked, or prepared, or … I have to make this work.’
He felt her take hold of his hand then and that spiral of something he still couldn’t quite explain shot through him. Fear, excitement, nervous tension, all began to whip up a tsunami of emotion. He needed to get his head together.
‘Then we see him now,’ Tess stated calmly.
‘Your work, on the figures, in English. I don’t know how to …’
‘Then I will present them,’ Tess replied. ‘And you will have to translate.’ She nodded like she was completely at ease with this situation. ‘OK?’
Her question was because he was floundering. He needed to keep control, keep the faith. He knew his business. He believed in this business. And that was all he needed to know.
‘OK,’ he answered. ‘I am ready.’
Mr Giantsiorhs looked like he had eaten rather too many knuckles of lamb, but he had a nice smile and a firm handshake that Tess got the benefit of as well as Andras. She was going to treat this just like a meeting at McKenzie Falconer. She was going to build Andras’s brand right in front of Mr Giantsiorhs’ eyes, wow him with the restaurant figures and get an agreement in principal to the loan. This Greek bank manager was just like a client needing direction towards signing on a dotted line, nothing more.
She put the laptop on the table and, instead of sitting in one of the chairs opposite the banker, remained standing.
‘Good morning Mr G—’ Shit, there was no way in hell she was going to pronounce his surname. She smiled and spoke to Andras out of the corner of her mouth. ‘Translate.’
A flurry of Greek ensued until Andras spoke again. ‘He wants to know who you are.’
‘I am Mr Georgiou’s business representative.’ She lowered her voice. ‘It sounds so much better than fake girlfriend, doesn’t it?’ She smiled as she flipped open the laptop lid and moved her fingers over the touchpad.
‘Mr …’ She really needed to stop addressing him by a name she couldn’t say. ‘Sir, we are here to offer you, and your establishment, a fantastic opportunity.’
‘We are?’ Andras queried.
‘We are.’ She nodded, for her own benefit more than anything else in the hope it would instil confidence. ‘Andras, translate please.’ She cleared her throat. ‘We would very much like Beta Bank to be partners in bringing this locally renowned restaurant in Kalami on to the international stage.’
‘Tess …’ Andras stated.
‘Don’t worry,’ she whispered. ‘I do this all the time. We are going to show him, right here, just what you’re going to be doing with the loan, how it’s going to progress your business and increase its profitability tenfold, and how that loan is going to be paid back before the term even finishes.’ Tess waved a hand. ‘Picture the scene.’ She turned the laptop around to face Mr Giantsiorhs and a photograph of Taverna Georgiou flashed up on the screen. ‘This individual, traditional but contemporary restaurant has been drawing locals and holidaymakers to its tables for centuries …’
‘Centuries?’ Andras exclaimed.
‘Aren’t you translating?’
Andras said something in Greek and Tess, on a roll, continued.
‘The souls of Greek warriors speak from its walls and the sides that … aren’t walls … have an unprecedented view of Kalami Bay.’
‘Tess …’ Andras tried again.
‘Mr Georgiou has been running this business for five and a half years and in the last two years he has seen a significant rise in turnover, and this after a rather erratic Greek financial position within Europe.’ She nodded knowingly at Mr Giantsiorhs. ‘We all know all about that, don’t we?’
‘Tess,’ Andras said. ‘I don’t think you need to say all of this.’
She looked at Andras. ‘I’m outlining the business and in a minute I’m going to move on to the plans you have for your events and …’ She turned her attention to Mr Giantsiorhs then, before looking back to Andras. ‘Why aren’t you translating anything I’m saying to him?’
The banker cleared his throat. ‘I actually speak English.’
Suddenly the air conditioning was inadequate to subdue her flaming face. She sank down into the chair, wobbling a little. Why hadn’t Andras stopped her? She swallowed. She hadn’t let him get a word in. This was his business meeting and she had hijacked it – with the best intentions, granted – but she didn’t know Greek business and he needed this loan to keep the restaurant his and keep his mother at arm’s length.
‘I’m sorry,’ Tess said apologetically.
Mr Giantsiorhs waved a hand and reached for the laptop, pulling it across the desk towards him. ‘It is no matter.’
‘Mr Giantsiorhs,’ Andras said. ‘I am looking for a loan of twenty-five thousand euro.’
‘Mmm,’ the banker replied, his fingers jabbing at the keys.
‘The figures are all there,’ Tess said. ‘You’ll find on the sixth PowerPoint slide is quite a convincing flow chart.’ She really did need to shut her mouth now.
‘I have plans to create some additional space – more covers – but first, I would like to try some small events. However, I cannot do that without a little capital for initial outlay and advertising to kick-start things.’
Mr Giantsiorhs was now writing things down on a piece of paper, his other chubby hand reaching out for an ancient-looking calculator. Was he really going to make his decision using something so … analogue? She was nervous on Andras’s behalf.
‘He can afford the loan repayments,’ Tess blurted out. ‘I mean, b
ased on the rate you offer on your website page.’ As she said this she wondered whether the man even knew what a website was. ‘And the taverna itself … wow, it is really something special. You really have to visit it to see the—’
‘View of the bay?’ the banker asked, looking up from his paper. ‘Or to hear the souls of Greek warriors speaking to me from the walls?’
Why had she said that? She blamed Sonya for all her Corfu guidebook talk on the way here.
Mr Giantsiorhs pushed his calculator away and took a deep breath, elongated his rotund frame into the back of his deep leather chair. His body language was saying no. She didn’t want him to say no.
‘Your brother is getting married, no?’
Andras’s heart dropped. This had been his main fear. To come here and use a white lie to get the money he needed had always been a risk on this small island where everyone knew everything about everyone. He knew, if he had been honest and said he needed the money to pay out his business partner then the application would be immediately denied. But now it looked like he had tried to pull the wool over Mr Giantsiorhs’ eyes. And dishonesty, no matter how slight, was not something that would be accepted.
‘Yes,’ he answered. ‘My brother gets married in two days.’
‘And he is leaving Corfu.’
‘Yes.’ He swallowed. ‘He is.’ He could feel the anxiety invading his shoulders. ‘I will be honest—’
‘Mr Giantsiorhs …’ Tess swallowed, having just about managed the pronunciation. ‘The truth is, Andras wants to make a new start with this business when his brother leaves. You know what it is like, growing up with a big, Greek family, there is always someone wanting to do something one way and another wanting to do quite the opposite.’ She smiled. ‘Now, Andras wants the chance to take the taverna in a different direction, not forgetting all the great times his family made there, but forging something new, taking what works really well already and building on that, creating something even better.’
The air seemed to still and Andras surveyed the banker’s expression, hoping to garner some indication of what he was thinking. Tess had stopped him from telling the truth about the loan. It was still prickling his conscience. And this man wasn’t stupid.
