by Mandy Baggot
‘I don’t know,’ Tess replied. She picked up her glass of wine with a smile and put it to her lips. ‘Not everything has to have a plan, does it?’
‘No, I suppose not. Although I do find a plan helps focus you on what’s important.’
A rap on the door of their apartment drew their attention to inside and Tess looked at Sonya. ‘Are you expecting someone?’
‘Maybe it’s Andras?’ she suggested.
‘We said we would be at the taverna for eight for the Greek night, and whatever craziness Isadora has in store,’ Tess reminded her friend.
‘Perhaps it’s Alex with some more towels. I did ask him for some more towels when we went past the bar earlier.’ Sonya got up. ‘I’ll go.’
Tess looked back to her phone and pressed on the contacts icon. Her last calls. Rachel and those missed calls from her mum …
A scream from inside had Tess’s phone tumbling to the table and she shot up off her chair ready to attack whatever had made Sonya shriek, even if it was a carpenter bee.
‘Sonya?’ Tess called.
‘What are you doing here?’ Sonya exclaimed to the door of their apartment.
Tess’s mouth dropped open as she made it inside and saw who was standing there. Tousled blond hair, stone-coloured cargo pants and a T-shirt declaring ‘Eat, Sleep, Civil War’. ‘Joey.’
‘Hello, Tess,’ Joey greeted soberly. He turned his attention back to Sonya. ‘Sonya, can we talk?’
Sixty-seven
Taverna Georgiou
Joey was here in Corfu. Tess hadn’t really known what to do and neither, it seemed, had Sonya. There had been a lot of opening and closing of her mouth before any words had made it out. And the very first thing her best friend had said was, ‘I’m sorry, the air is artificial in here.’
There had been an awkward moment with Joey’s backpack – whether to put it down, whether to leave it on his shoulder – and then Tess had decided to call the shots. Ushering them both through to the terrace, she grabbed a fresh glass, another bottle of wine from the fridge and made them sit at the table. They needed time to talk, without any spectators, and, telling Sonya she was going to Georgiou’s and she only needed to call/text/send a carrier egret and she would come back, she left them alone.
Now, having taken the beach way, Tess was stood outside the taverna, looking up at the fairy-lit, wooden picture window frames, pots of riotous buds of colour spilling over the stonework, just as she had that very first evening on the island.
‘Excuse me. Would you like a table?’
She smiled to herself before she looked up, the voice sending delicious ripples through her. Andras was stood at the top of the small flight of steps, dressed in his uniform of black trousers and white shirt, a little open at the neck. It was a modern-day Shirley Valentine scene but she didn’t care, because to her it wasn’t clichéd, it was pretty much perfect.
‘Yes, please,’ she replied, moving forward and stepping onto the first step. ‘For one.’
‘For one?’ he queried.
‘Sonya’s boyfriend, he’s here. He just turned up at our apartment.’
‘And they do not want to eat?’ Andras asked as she took another step up.
‘It’s complicated with them at the moment. I’ve left them with wine and some crisps but I hope, when they’ve talked, they will come down here.’
She stood on the last step, finally right next to him, and breathed in his scent. Citrus, pine, mixing with jasmine in the air …
‘A table for three then,’ Andras responded. ‘We will remain hopeful.’ He trailed a finger down her arm and immediately goosebumps she couldn’t control broke out. He finally clasped her hand with his, gently brushing her skin with his thumb.
‘I really want to kiss you,’ Tess blurted out. She couldn’t believe she had said that. Her heart was literally beating out of her chest from just standing next to him, holding his hand.
‘You do not need to ask,’ he replied softly.
She leant forward and brushed her lips against his, feeling that immediate spark of passion flow through her.
‘There is no Susan?’
Tess flew back from Andras at the sound of Isadora’s voice. She cleared her throat before answering. ‘Kalispera, Isadora. No, Susan is with her boyfriend tonight.’
‘Her boyfriend. Is he Greek?’
Tess shook her head. ‘No, he’s English.’
‘Then you will sit with us,’ Isadora announced.
‘Mama …’ Andras began to protest.
‘You do not want me to get to know better the woman that you claim to love?’ Isadora queried. ‘Everything is arranged for the wedding. I have time tonight.’
Another night being scrutinised like a rare species for not having babies and devoting her time to business. Or, perhaps, simply enjoying the ambience, the food and the company and not thinking too hard about anything else.
‘That would be lovely,’ Tess answered. ‘Thank you.’
‘Good,’ Isadora stated. ‘Come, you can help me match up Marietta with Victor. He is a good boy and he has very nice eyes.’
Tess looked to Andras, an expression of surprise on her face. He shrugged and picked up a menu.
Andras delivered platters of tzatziki, olives, taramasalata and houmous, together with griddled pitta bread, to table ten then looked over to the table his family were dining at. Tess was smiling, laughing with his mother over something and Kira was joining in, showing the women something on her dress. He picked up a jug of water and made his way over to them.
‘It is for luck,’ Kira said, fingering the brooch. ‘It was my grandmother’s. It is solid silver she had from when she was a child.’
‘It’s very pretty,’ Tess remarked.
‘It is for luck,’ Isadora stated.
‘I know,’ Tess said. ‘Kira said. There are things we do for luck in English weddings too, you know.’
‘There are?’ Isadora asked.
Tess nodded. ‘We have a rhyme, well, like a rhyme, it goes … something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.’
‘What happens after you say the song?’ Kira asked.
‘Do you spit?’ Isadora inquired.
Tess shook her head. ‘No. The bride has to have all these things, so something old – like your brooch from your grandmother, Kira – something new, the dress maybe is new or shoes; something borrowed, one of your wedding party could lend you something to wear on the day, a ring or a clip for your hair maybe … then something blue.’
‘What can I have that is blue?’ Kira asked, eyes wide like not having the blue item was going to scupper her entire wedding plans.
‘More water?’ Andras asked, leaning towards empty glasses and filling them up.
‘Well, in UK weddings brides tend to have a garter,’ Tess said.
‘A garden?’ Isadora asked.
‘A what?’ Kira added.
‘It’s a, well, it’s a piece of lace really, elasticated lace, that you put … on your thigh.’
Andras made that the moment to get close and pour Tess’s drink.
‘You tie something to your leg?’ Isadora asked. ‘It sounds ridiculous.’
‘Yes,’ Tess said, nodding. ‘It is a bit crazy. And they itch quite a bit.’
‘You have worn one?’ Kira asked.
‘You have worn one for a wedding?’ Isadora snapped.
‘I … well …’
‘Tess, could you come with me?’ Andras said, putting his hand on her shoulder and encouraging her away from this pit of fire she was about to fall into.
‘You have been married!’ Isadora continued, shock coating her voice.
‘Tess, come on,’ Andras ordered, pulling her chair back for her.
‘No,’ Tess answered, her voice shaking a little. ‘I haven’t been married.’
‘Tess …’ Andras begged. He knew how it felt for her to talk about this and he didn’t want her to have to go through it again.
‘My
fiancé left me at the church,’ she said. ‘He decided not to marry me.’
Kira shook her head, picking up her glass of wine. ‘And that is why you throw yourself into work, work, work, all of the time, because you cannot get over the shame and the devastation.’ She patted Tess’s hand. ‘And that is why you have all the other men and pretend to be Andras’s girlfriend.’
Andras gripped the chair and closed his eyes. Spiros had told Kira. And now Kira had blabbed the truth after too much wine.
‘Pretend.’
The word was said by Isadora and was directed straight at Tess. He wasn’t going to let his mother attack her.
‘I am sorry,’ Kira said, putting her hand to her mouth. ‘I am sorry, I am talking with the wine and—’
‘OK, that’s enough,’ Andras said.
‘Enough of what?’ Isadora asked, turning in her chair and looking up at him.
‘Kira is right,’ Andras sighed. ‘It is true. Tess isn’t someone I met earlier in the summer, in Paleokastritsa. She is someone I simply met when she turned up at the restaurant and we struck a deal. She would pretend to be my girlfriend and I would give her a tour of the island and unlimited Wi-Fi.’
‘I do not believe this!’ Isadora exclaimed. ‘You have lied to us. Lied to all of your family.’
‘Because you made me!’ Andras shot back. ‘With your constant pushing with Marietta. I had no choice.’
‘You could have told the truth,’ Isadora slammed.
‘You do not want to listen to the truth. You just want people to do as they are told. All the time. With this wedding. With the restaurant that does not even mean anything to you. I could not breathe. I am always the one you think made a mistake marrying Elissa. The one who does not know what he wants and needs to be told. Well, that isn’t the case, Mama, I do know what I want.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I want this business to flourish, I want to finish building my house, I want some balance in my life and … I want Tess.’
A collective gasp went up from the table.
A gentle Greek tune began to emanate from the musicians at the far end of the restaurant but all Tess could concentrate on was Andras’s words. I want Tess. She didn’t know what to do. She was glued to the seat of her chair, feeling the eyes of Andras’s family on her. Should she get up? Should she stay where she was? How did Andras’s declaration make her feel?
‘Mama,’ Andras carried on, ‘in a way, I need to thank you.’ He rested a hand on Tess’s shoulder again. ‘If you had not pushed and pushed and backed me into a corner, then I would never have made a connection with Tess. And to think about not having her come into my life, well, I cannot even imagine it now.’ He took a breath. ‘I do not want to imagine it.’
‘What are you trying to tell me, Andras?’ Isadora asked. ‘That you meet this Patricia last week and you are in …’
‘In love with her,’ he said boldly. ‘I am in love with her, yes.’
Something inside her was shifting again. Making love on the beach was one thing but this, these words, in front of his whole family, in his taverna, this was something else. It was filling her to the brim with a euphoric feeling she had never known before, but was it real? Could it be hers? Did she want it?
‘I am sorry, Tess,’ he breathed. ‘I should not be saying this to my family before I say it to you.’ He squatted down so he was level with her and took her hand in his. ‘I know there are so many questions to be answered, but I know what is in my heart and for once, I am listening to it.’
‘Andras …’
‘You do not have to say anything here or at all. I just don’t want to pretend we are pretending any more,’ he whispered. ‘I want my feelings for you to be clear.’
How much clearer could he be? He had worshipped her, body and soul, on Vidos Island, and he was doing it again now, finally telling his mother how he felt, telling everyone how he felt about her.
‘I feel the same,’ she whispered tentatively. ‘And it makes me so happy, but so frightened … and I don’t know what to do about it.’
He took both her hands then, squeezing them tight, before bringing them to his lips and kissing them. ‘Dance with me?’ he asked.
She nodded and got to her feet.
‘Andras,’ Isadora called.
Spiros came behind his mother’s chair and put his hands on her shoulders. ‘Mama, let them dance. There will be time for talking later.’
Sixty-eight
Tess rested her head against Andras’s chest as he swayed her in time to the heavy lament of the bouzouki. Right now she wanted to stay in this moment for ever, wrapped in his arms, not thinking about anything else but how perfectly content she felt, here under a Greek sunset in this pretty little village, with this gorgeous man.
‘I am so sorry!’
It was Kira, swinging up to them in Spiros’s arms, hair whipping Tess’s shoulder as they began to dance next to them. Tess shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter. It wasn’t your fault.’
‘No,’ Spiros said. ‘It was mine. For thinking my wife could keep a secret.’
‘I am not your wife until tomorrow,’ Kira responded stiffly.
‘Stop this,’ Andras ordered. ‘If anyone is to blame then it is me. I am the one who made this situation. But, on the whole, I am thankful for it.’ He tightened his hold on Tess.
‘It is unbelievable,’ Spiros said, a smile on his face. ‘My wedding brought you together with someone from England.’
‘Our wedding,’ Kira corrected, playfully cuffing his arm. ‘Just because you are a man, not everything is just yours.’
Spiros held his hands up. ‘I surrender. I will do as I am told. I know my place.’
Tess raised her head from Andras and looked up, drinking him in. ‘This is almost where it started,’ she whispered. ‘Here, dancing to the bouzouki.’
He nodded. ‘I remember.’ He smiled. ‘I remember you drove a hard bargain for your Internet connection.’
‘And hardly had time to use it,’ she answered.
‘Tess,’ Andras said.
‘Yes.’
‘It is Sonya.’
Tess looked to the restaurant entrance and there was her friend and Joey. They were holding hands and Sonya was wearing the biggest smile.
‘Go to her,’ Andras said, stepping back from their embrace. ‘Tell them we still have food.’
Tess smiled, squeezed his hands and headed off across the stone floor.
She raced towards Sonya, hoping against hope that everything was all right, that the smile was genuine, that their talk over the Greek wine she had left them had ironed everything out. She didn’t have to wait long. As soon as Sonya saw her she let out a shriek of excitement and bounded forward, gathering Tess up in a tight squeeze.
‘I’m engaged!’ Sonya exclaimed. ‘Not almost engaged, actually, properly, engaged! Look!’
Sonya shot out her hand and on the ring finger of her left hand was a beautiful gold ring with a diamond centre stone and three rubies above, creating a crown shape.
‘It’s Georgian,’ Sonya said. ‘It’s from the 1780s and it’s a symbol of a triumphant love.’ She put her hand to her chest, as if emotion was about to burst out of her every pore.
Tess gripped her hand. ‘I am so, so happy for you.’ She looked over Sonya’s shoulder at Joey then whispered, ‘So, everything is all right, with Margate and …’
Sonya nodded her head. ‘He wasn’t in Margate, just like you said. One of his battle re-enactment pals – Eddie Red Beard, always a bit of a pain in the gluteus maximus – thought it would be funny to take Joey’s phone. Then he lost it, probably at that hotel, which is why a woman answered it when I rang and didn’t say “Joey’s phone”.’
‘So, Ceri being tagged …’
‘Eddie Red Beard went to school with her, before either of them chose battle re-enactment sides. But he knew very well what rumours that would start.’
‘No merger plans then?’
Sonya laughed. ‘No.’
&
nbsp; ‘And the needing space, and the baby thing?’ Tess ventured.
‘We talked it all out. He told me how he had been feeling. I told him … I told him I couldn’t have children … and it changed everything.’ Sonya looked to Joey who was standing a little awkwardly, hands in the pockets of his cargo shorts. ‘He’s hit thirty-five and had a bit of a pre-mid-life crisis. He was worried that Dunelm Mill was one step towards whole weekends in B&Q, retirement and, well, death. I told him all the things we’ve done here, how I wished he had been here to experience it with me – no offence – and how I am open to absolutely anything! Just because I like mooching around craft stores and tea rooms, doesn’t mean that’s what I want to do all the time, I’m all for new interests and different …’
‘Positions?’ Tess offered with a grin.
Sonya blushed. ‘Well, yes, and he said that when he mentioned children he wasn’t really sure that was what he wanted right now, but he wanted it to be something we thought about.’ She sighed. ‘Tommy Blue Jacket’s just had a baby and it was palmed around the re-enactment society trussed up in a leatherette and lace Babygro looking very cute a few months ago. I think that was the catalyst.’
‘Do all the re-enactment society members have coloured nicknames?’ Tess inquired.
‘Joey is Joey Jade Horn.’
‘Good Lord!’ She wasn’t sure she was going to be able to look at him the same way again.
‘But he said one thing he knew he didn’t want was the space he thought he did want. And he wanted me.’ Sonya heaved a gigantic breath. ‘And that’s when he got down on one knee, between the chair and the trailing bougainvillea, about three tiles along, and asked me to marry him.’
‘I’m so happy for you.’
‘And so, talking about babies is on the table, for the future maybe.’ Sonya let out a contented sigh. ‘Either the adoption route or the Elton John route, and everything is going to be perfect … if we can get some food. I’m so hungry!’ Sonya looked around at all the half-empty plates as diners got out of their places to join in with the Greek dancing.
