Aarggh, and now I’d used a word that reminded me of Niko. But me realising what a jerk Niko had grown into, forced me to abandon my doubts and realise Henrik really was a catch. My head told me to grow up – that like oysters, not all men had something priceless inside. My man had lots of good qualities, like his honesty, and that should be enough.
I jumped as someone knocked at the villa’s front door. Henrik yawned and went to sit up. I shushed him, slipped through a gap in the mosquito net and headed towards our little blue-painted front door, which I unlocked and pulled open.
‘Ya sou, Theo!’ I squinted in the sunlight and bent down to ruffle the black hair. The little boy stood next to his dad.
‘Miss Pattinson…’ Mr Dellis bowed his head.
‘Please, call me Pippa.’ I smiled and smoothed down my nightdress. Eek, by the position of the sun, it must have already been late morning. I yawned again. ‘Excuse me – we got woken up by the fire station last night.’
‘Ah yes… There was a fire in a nightclub, further north – our crew went to help out. My brother is one of the team. Fortunately no one was hurt.’ Mr Dellis cleared his throat. ‘Pippa… again… Saturday – efharisto. It was dangerous. Like firemen, you risked your life – for my boy.’
‘Efharisto,’ mumbled Theo, in a shy voice, from under the green sunhat he’d just put back on.
‘No problem,’ I said, chest glowing.
‘But as a thank you, we put on a little meal tonight and have booked Taxos Taverna for eight o’clock. Please say you and your boyfriend will be there. My family and I will treat you and Niko like the greatest of gods.’
My stomach twisted. Niko? Could I really face seeing him again, without my temper urging me to shower him with retsina and…. Oh no. Did I really just imagine what it would be like to lick it off?
My ears burned. ‘There is no need, honestly–’
‘That is exactly what Niko said.’ Mr Dellis took my hand. ‘My wife and I, my mother… so grateful. Please. Let us honour you in this small way. We have arranged for Georgios and Sophia to put on a modest buffet.’
Bags bulged under his eyes and his nails had split, no doubt from working the land. ‘Okay. Um… lovely, thank you. But please let me bring something… for dessert.’ I didn’t want to hurt his pride by saying don’t spend money you can’t afford.
His face lit up. ‘We look forward to it. Eight o’clock. Until later!’
I closed the door. How great to see Theo looking so well, although I doubted he’d go back on a lilo any time soon.
As I walked through the hallway, gentle snoring wafted out from the spare room. Both Henrik and I had slept like exhausted Olympic torchbearers since arriving in Greece – no doubt the months of a hectic London life catching up with us. Humming, I headed into the kitchen and filled the coffee maker. Mmm, those ground beans smelt good. Soon it was percolating and energised by just the aroma of caffeine, I opened one of the cornflower-blue cupboards and took out the flour, butter and sugar that Henrik and Leila had bought on Saturday afternoon. We were almost out of milk, but I wouldn’t need much for even a large batch of scones.
Leila. How long had she been going out with Niko? Did they laugh together like I used to with him? Who’d made the first move? Did she, too, like wildlife?
My heart pumped as I recalled Niko’s face, up against mine… Could I avoid him forever? No. For a start, food was running low which meant a trip into Taxos. Talking of which, how on earth would I flavour the scones? Not that much beat a plain, well-risen one with melting butter on top, but I had a bit of a reputation to uphold with the Sotiropoulos family, particularly Grandma.
My gaze fell upon a large bar of chocolate on the low wooden table, in the middle of the lounge. Henrik had bought it at the airport. He liked it dark. Surely he wouldn’t mind me using a little if I replaced it at the local supermarket? I gazed out of the patio windows and for the first time really studied the plants, especially a wide, roundish tree with emerald leaves and what looked like bulbous orangey-red peaches… Of course – apricots! The last fruits of the season hung in August and we used to gorge on them for breakfast when I was a child. Chocolate chip and apricot scones would be a perfect combination of bitter and sweet flavours. I slipped into my flip-flops and drew back the patio doors.
As I walked onto the paving stones, the tolerable morning sun kissed my cheeks. I still winced as Saturday’s sunburn had not quite turned brown. Cicadas chirped and I inhaled salty sea air. Bliss – a heavenly change from the stuffy smell of the London underground.
I tucked strands of unbrushed hair behind my ears, only for the breeze to release them once more. On reaching the apricot tree, I plucked off tiger-orange fruits, clearly bursting with juice. In fact several lay open on the ground, providing flies with a sumptuous brunch. I bit into one and a wet trickle ran down my chin. Annoying… Why did that remind me of Niko’s juice-smeared mouth as he’d devoured half a fig?
Back indoors, I cracked on with the culinary task in hand. Ah, that was better, me kneading the scone dough, up and down, then around and around…. How pretty it looked with flecks of hard brown and squishy orange. Aaahhh… slowly my shoulders and brow relaxed and confused thoughts swapped places with happy images in my mind, such as a gently-breaking tide or colourful Greek salad.
I couldn’t wait to see Grandma again. How she would loves these scones. Please let her get better… My vision blurred for a second. It was strange to think of the hardworking, no-nonsense Iris bed-ridden with people looking after her for a change.
‘So, when are you going to replace my chocolate?’ said Henrik, as we strolled into Taxos that evening, just before eight. The road was difficult to make out, due to the sunset. Like movie actors teasing paparazzi, stars glinted, now and again, in the sapphire sky. I breathed in cedar wood smells from the nearby forest.
He glanced down. I looked up. As he squeezed my fingers through the twilight, we both grinned. With the other hand I carried a basket, containing the scones with a tea-towel over the top. I felt like one of those American Stepford wives you see in TV series, who always welcome new neighbours with homemade delights. Or like Red Riding Hood in the woods, except without the cape.
‘Although I guess I can write off the debt, seeing as you’re such a hero,’ Henrik continued. ‘What happened Saturday – you saving that boy…’
I groaned. ‘Please. I’m dreading tonight. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the meal, but all this fuss – anyone else would have done the same.’
Henrik stopped and turned to face me. ‘You really believe that? Remember when we went skiing last year? That man went off-piste and landed head-first on the ground, catching his helmet on a rock? Even though he declared himself fine, it was you who insisted he visit the resort’s medical centre. He’d have been dead twelve hours later if it hadn’t been for that.’
I shrugged.
‘Then that time, shortly after we met, when a woman choked in that Chinese restaurant.’
I pulled his hand, to continue our journey towards the lights of Taxos. Hmm – fortunately I’d known how to employ the Heimlich manoeuvre, whilst everyone else panicked, apart from Henrik who’d calmed down her husband and kids.
Henrik looked sideways at me. ‘Whilst other people are prepared to stand at the sidelines, watching disasters unfold, you get stuck in to change the course of events. No doubt that’s why your career is such a success.’ He cleared his throat which had broken a little. ‘That’s why you and I make such a good match. The easy way out is never an option. We do the right thing, even if that means making tough decisions that not everyone will like. In fact…’ Henrik inhaled as if he had something important to say… was he about to propose? I steeled myself. You’d be mad to say no, Pippa, said a prim voice in my head.
‘This Friday I have planned a very special day out for you and me. So don’t arrange anything with your Taxos friends.’
I swallowed. So, Greta was right. No doubt he’d chosen an exquis
ite location for the proposal.
‘And, er, also I forgot to mention…’ he said, ‘…whilst you were showering – an urgent phone call came in. Tomorrow I have to go into Kos Town for a meeting and–’
‘Henrik! We’ve only just arrived!’
‘Sorry Pips… I promise, it won’t take long.’
‘So what’s so important about this bit of business that it can’t wait?’ Suddenly his fingers seemed clammy and I loosened my grip.
‘Oh, I won’t bore you with the details…’ He stared straight ahead. ‘It’s just some client who is anxious to close a big deal.’
‘Which client?’ I pushed, but all to no avail as at that moment shrieks of laughter greeted us at the village’s edge. My heart flipped – it was just the shock, of course – at the sight of Niko with little Theo on his shoulder. He looked as comfortable as if he were the boy’s actual dad, wearing a shirt as white as Greek yogurt, tucked into well-fitting jeans. With Leila, by his side, holding hands with a little girl. They looked like a family, happy and complete. On seeing us, Niko bent over and let Theo – who was carrying a football – slide onto the ground
‘Ya sou, Pippa…’ His mouth twitched into a smile, the shirt showing off his caramel skin. He nodded at Henrik. ‘We have come to greet you… Good food, good wine, good company – it awaits you in Taxos. Mind you…’ He looked down at Theo and grinned. ‘We almost didn’t make it. At this time of night, with only a few locals and tourists around, the streets make a fine, empty football pitch.’
‘I did my best to make them hurry,’ said petite Leila and I couldn’t stop smiling down at her amiable face. Nor could I stop gawping at her gorgeous dress. The colourful red and yellow floral pattern perfectly suited her skin. Nipped in at the waist, it accentuated her trim figure. Whilst I’d grown accustomed to and even liked my height, once again I just briefly wondered what it must be like to be a small, delicately-featured woman – and whether that aspect of her was what Niko found appealing.
‘Lovely flower,’ I said and pointed to the red-orange bloom with large petals, tucked behind her ear.
‘Thank you. Our pomegranate trees have bloomed late this year.’
Theo looked up shyly and said something to Niko who shrugged. ‘He asks if Henrik would go ahead with him, back to the wider part of the road, for a kick-around before we eat.’
A bubble of laughter tickled my throat. Henrik wasn’t what I’d call child-friendly. I’d never forget his bulging eyes and wrinkled-up nose when we recently visited a friend who’d just had a baby. She’d insisted Henrik hold the tiny tot, who promptly screamed in his arms, filled its nappy and broke copious amounts of wind. Having said that, Henrik oozed charm, whether it be directed at toddlers, young adults or pensioners. Indeed, his love of football won the day and he ruffled Theo’s hair before the two of them hurried away. Leila and the little girl laughed and ran after them.
Niko turned to me and took a step closer, fiddling with his leather bracelet. I doubted that a baby’s dirty nappies would faze him. The sky was pitch black now, without the intrusive amber glow of city lights I was used to in London.
‘Pippa – I am glad we are alone. We have something to discuss.’
I stared at the ground. ‘Do we?’
‘Yes.’ He put a hand on my shoulder. ‘The desire of Niko Sotiropoulos to make fuck with you.’
Chapter Six
‘What did you say?’ I almost dropped my basket and shook off his hand as I looked up.
‘That film. I watched it. You compared me to the Greek waiter. He said something like that to Shirley, about making f–’
‘You watched Shirley Valentine?’ I gasped. ‘How… I mean… so quickly…’
‘A shop in Kos Town stocks DVDs for tourists. It’s not funny, that you think me like him. Pippa…’ He threw his hands in the air. ‘I have no agenda. Am serious. Unlike the waiter in film who was just looking for lightweight adventures.’
‘At least he wasn’t hiding a fiancée,’ I muttered.
‘Let me explain.’
His mocha eyes gazed earnestly into my face and tingles in all sorts of places pricked my skin.
‘No! Let’s just leave it – Henrik and I, we… are happy. Look, I kind of get it – life in dusty Taxos, especially after the recession, must be… well, I can’t blame you for having a bit of fun with visiting tourists. Mind you, it stinks that you flirt with everyone behind Leila’s back.’ I started walking again. ‘But don’t badmouth Henrik to me.’
‘And don’t you badmouth Taxos – life here is as special as ever.’
My cheeks burned. He was right. For me – old-fashioned, unsullied Taxos was still idyllic, with its ramshackle character contrasting Kos Town’s glossy glitz.
‘As for Leila…’ he continued. ‘You really think so little of me?’
‘What does my opinion matter?’
He swallowed. ‘Everything.’
‘Of course it does,’ I said and pursed my lips, still cringing as I thought about Saturday’s butterfly kisses.
‘Look, about Henrik…’
‘Niko, please…’ My voice wavered. ‘Can’t we leave it? I don’t know why you dislike him but he’s a good man.’
Niko stared at me for a moment and took a step back. ‘Sorry Pippa… I… I no mean to hurt your feelings. It’s just…’
I raised an eyebrow. He sighed and nodded. Then with as wide strides as possible, I headed towards the shouts of Theo and Henrik, in the distance. With relief, I reached them and stood by Leila whilst the men enjoyed a ten minute kick-around. Then we hurried to the taverna and wow! What a greeting awaited us with string music, laughter, flickering candles and savoury smells.
As we walked in, Mr Dellis, his wife and mother came over to give us tight hugs. I caught sight of a table at the back of the room, laden with… Wow again. Niko’s family had prepared bowls of shiny olives, green and beige dips, fried calamari, souvlaki chicken kebabs and stuffed red peppers. Plus colourful salads dressed with glistening oil and lumps of squishy feta cheese.
I spied Sophia’s famous spinach pie – in other words, comfort food at its best. My last holiday there, I’d been fretting about whether I’d chosen the right options for GCSE. Niko had fetched me a slice of this Spanakopita and sat with me, next to our favourite rock in Caretta Cove, whilst I’d relished every mouthful. A lump rose in my throat as I recalled him declaring the wrong choices would be just a small blip that would never hold back a girl like Pippa Pattinson.
Niko circled the room, kissing several women, family and friends…What had happened over the years to make him value an engagement so little – and to spurt out spiteful suspicions about people he hardly knew?
‘Demetrios!’ I said as the handsome potter came over and kissed me on either cheek. He stood back and grinned. I’d forgotten how he always wore a colourful cravat.
‘Ya sou, Pippa. So, where are your muddy jeans and bare feet now?’
I grinned. ‘Remember that vase I made? The hole at the top was so small all I could do was push in one stalk.’
Demetrios chuckled. ‘Happy memories – you must come over before you leave. I make you a special vase to take back.’
‘Ya sou, Pippa!’ Pandora the baker came over and warmth radiated through me at the sight of her in catwalk tailored white trousers and a terracotta blouse. She hadn’t changed a jot, apart from a few grey hairs in her stylish short cut and deep shadows under those ebony eyes. Plus now she wore black-rimmed glasses. I glanced at her perfectly varnished nails and… wedding finger. So she hadn’t remarried. Pandora had lost her husband about ten years ago – flames had cornered him whilst he helped control a forest fire, in a neighbouring village.
We hugged. ‘I’ve brought cake tonight, Pippa, and trust you still like it as much?’
I patted my stomach. ‘All these years, I’ve never eaten a sponge cake as good as yours, back in England.’
Pandora’s skin flushed and she gave me another hug. Then she stood ba
ck. ‘You’ve grown into a lovely young woman – and have important job in London, no?’
‘It’s no more important than baking heavenly food to earn a living – I can’t wait to fill my plate from the buffet table.’
Pandora’s cheeks flushed darker as Mr Dellis clapped his hands and a hush fell.
‘Now that Niko and Miss Pat– I mean Pippa, are here…’ he lifted up Theo, ‘… My sons talk of superheroes – Spiderman, Captain America. But they are fiction. In this room we have two real heroes, both bigger than The Hulk…’
Er. Okay. I think that was meant as a compliment.
‘… who saved my boys from…’ His voice trembled. ‘Please, with your hands, thank them.’
As the room shook with claps and cheers, I glanced across the room at Niko and swallowed. Those deep mocha eyes met mine, a crease between the brows. It was as if time had rewound about ten years, to the day we alerted the neighbouring village to the forest fire that claimed Pandora’s husband. After unsuccessfully trying to extinguish it with buckets of sand, we’d got back on our bikes and raised the alarm. Like many inhabitants of a small island, Taxos villagers were at the mercy of the elements. Some had called us heroes back then but we never felt it, because the fire’s consequences had still been tragic, with the one death and several injured.
I looked back at Theo’s parents and blinked hard. The little boy’s mum had tears in her eyes.
‘To celebrate their bravery, now we eat,’ she said in a loud voice and opened her arms – cue another round of heartfelt hugs. Cosmo from the cycle shop pushed a shot of ouzo into my hand and squeezed my shoulder. I knocked it back before the catchy string music became louder and Cosmo took out his harmonica. Fashionable Pandora headed over with questions about where I’d bought my matching underwear, worn during the rescue. We chuckled that word about its stylishness had spread. On my return to England, I promised to send her some from M&S. Leila passed me a plate and Henrik slipped an arm around me as we headed towards the buffet table.
‘Mmm. This spinach pie is still the best, Sophia,’ I said, an hour or so later, after many conversations in Greeklish about where I learned to swim and my irrational fear of sharks. The combination of flavours and moistness made it a top quiche. The two of us sat at a table, whilst our men discussed the state of the Greek football team. Thanks to dating Henrik I now knew what constituted a good goal, although still faltered if asked to explain the offside rule.
Game of Scones Page 5
