Henrik knelt down. ‘Your sister said something about going outside for a cigarette.’
Olivia pulled a face. ‘That’s odd. She gave up smoking last month.’
‘I can’t keep track,’ he said and rolled his eyes, whilst…oh…why was he squeezing my shoulder?
‘I do hope she’s behaving herself.’ Olivia shook her head.
‘She took poor Niko onto the balcony a while ago,’ said Henrik. ‘Perhaps you should rescue him, Pippa.’ He pointed to glass doors behind the dance floor.
I got up and, like a commuter who’d been standing on his feet for too long, he relaxed into my seat. I headed towards the glass doors and for a moment peered through. What the…? Lisette was running a hand up and down Niko’s chest. My own chest squeezed. What on earth was going on?
Nothing of course. Niko was the most loyal person I knew. He firmly removed her hand and through the crack in between the two doors, drifted the words “It’s cold out here, Lisette. Come on. Let’s get something to eat.” Cue giggling. Then…oh my goodness. She leant forward for a kiss. Just in time, Niko side-stepped. I pulled open one of the doors and walked onto the balcony.
Brrr. Out in the snow. Were they crazy?
Lisette staggered and turned around. ‘Pippa! Have you come to track down Niko? Really, darling, you should let this bad boy off the leash once in a while.’ She winked at him. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said and like parasitic mistletoe wound her arms around his neck. ‘I’ll keep our little cuddle a secret.’
Chapter Eight
Niko removed Lisette’s arms from his neck and she wobbled slightly in her stilettos.
‘Perhaps I will get some food,’ she said in a slightly slurred voice as she faced me. ‘Ciao, Niko. Laters.’
I grimaced, my fingers curling tightly around my handbag as a smug-looking Lisette sashayed past. After the glass doors had slammed behind me, I raised an eyebrow. ‘Cuddle?’
Niko shook his head. ‘Thanks to God that you turned up. Lisette said she felt faint and needed fresh air – then as soon as we got out here, she tried to lock me in a firm embrace.’ He stepped forwards and murmured, ‘I hope we get some time together, for a cuddle tonight. How about a dance after the buffet?’
Goosebumps appeared across my skin. ‘Sure you wouldn’t rather dance cheek-to-cheek with that glamorous flirt?’
He stood back. Stared at me for a moment. ‘You’re jealous?’
‘Of course not,’ I said, with as much indignation I could muster.
‘One thing you are is very cold.’ Niko slipped off his tux jacket and handed it to me.
‘Keep it,’ I muttered.
Ignoring me, Niko draped it around my shoulders. My eyes tingled as he slipped his arms around my waist. ‘Look at me,’ he said.
A whiff of floral perfume – her scent – blew my way. Intense inky Greek eyes studied my face.
‘It’s me. Niko, who even as a child couldn’t lie to Grandma about pinching one of her freshly baked macaroons. Honesty runs along my veins like orange syrup through Revani cake. So, if I say I’m longing to dance with you, then that’s the truth.’
To loosen his grip, I shuffled from side to side, then stepped away and folded my arms.
‘You were keen enough to dance with Listette for ages.’
Niko’s eyes narrowed. ‘Pippa. Be fair. What choice did I have? This is a little luxury trip for us. It would have been nice to mingle with guests together, but you soon shot off.’
Guilt pinched my chest. Yes, this was the first time Niko had been abroad.
‘You’d abandoned me without making any introductions,’ he continued. ‘What was I supposed to do? Sit on my own?’
‘How many times to you think I’ve had to fend on my own in Greece?’ I squeaked. Urgh, why did guilt always make me defensive? ‘We can’t look out for each other the whole time.’
He held up his hand. ‘Agreed. Normally would not be a problem. But I’m a complete stranger here – not only by birth but by profession. Almost everyone here is in the finance industry.’
‘Sorry,’ I said in a tight voice. ‘Guess I just got carried away – you know, having lived on an island for four months. Forgive me if I wanted to catch up with some old friends.’ I shook my head. ‘You know, I’ve had to manage, in Taxos, without speaking a single world of the lingo.’
‘Many of the locals speak English,’ he said and a muscle flinched in his cheek.
‘Yes, but often they drop into Greek in a group – and who could blame them? Plus I don’t understand the radio or television or anyone’s English when they get excited or angry. How do you think I’ve felt? I didn’t solve my discomfort by flirting with the nearest thing with a pulse.’ I stopped for breath, fists curled.
‘I didn’t flirt with Lisette,’ he said, in a measured voice. ‘I can’t help it if she pays me attention. But as you saw, I took charge. She is just a little drunk.’ He tutted. ‘Such a waste of earnings. All that champagne just to wake up with a headache…what is the point?’
’Oh great. I should have known you’d have brought his back to money again.’ Heat surged into my cheeks and I handed him back his coat, suddenly needing fresh air myself. He tried to refuse but I folded my arms.
Niko paced up and down, whilst he put his jacket back on. ‘Don’t you get it? We are in our mid-twenties and about to get married. Yet still we haven’t enough saved up to get our own place. God knows when we’ll be able to afford to have children. Many islanders live hand to mouth. You still live as if you are in London – like these people who have nothing better to do with their money than pour it down their necks and make fools of themselves.’
‘That’s not true. I haven’t had a pedicure for weeks.’
‘And that comment exactly sums up the problem.’ Niko threw his hands in the air. ‘At first you seemed so happy, living on the island. Slowly that’s changed. Is it really village life that’s the problem – or is it…me?’
Normally that slight wobble in his voice would have thawed my anger, but I felt disappointed that my one precious weekend away, back home, was going so badly. Therefore instead, all the frustrations from the last couple of months spilled out. ‘Well, for a start I wasn’t expecting criticism every time I wanted to dip into my savings. And do you know just how hard it’s been, to adapt to island life? Have you ever, for one moment, considered what I’ve given up? My lifestyle, my job, my friends and family?’
‘I see your priorities are clearly set out in that last sentence. Obviously your clothes, outings and possessions come first – family last.’ He averted his gaze.
‘How dare you!’ I spat. ‘You know that’s not true…’ Damn my voice, now, for trembling. ‘And if it is, then why on earth are you marrying me?’
‘Because I thought the girl I knew years ago was still there – but perhaps she isn’t; perhaps London Pippa is now the real you, with your fancy habits and friends.’
Through the steady flurry of frosty flakes, we gazed at each other. A suffocating sensation filled my throat.
‘What I hate most,’ he said, staring back, ‘is how you’ve made me feel like some moaning old man always going on about our finances. That’s not me. I hate nagging. But my whole life revolves around building a future for my own family. I don’t have dreams of running a top business or travelling the world. So it’s really important to me, with our marriage upcoming, that we start to lay the foundations for a secure life – a modest one yes, but…’ His voice broke. ‘…Pippa, one rich in love.’
‘And I want that too, but…’
‘There should be no buts.’ A muscle flinched in his cheek again. ‘Seeing you here, tonight…laughing with Henrik…chatting with your friends and using big words I don’t understand…you’ve made a terrible mistake getting engaged to the sleepy village fisherman, no?’
‘How can you say that? Of course I was pleased to see Henrik and my old colleagues, but only because I missed England. You’re being ridiculous. For me, they represen
t my old life and that’s all there is to it. My future is with you.’
‘Are you sure?’
Yes, really I was – especially in view of the spear of cold that had run through me, on seeing another woman cosy up to my Greek Adonis. Yet my sensible head, the one that thought of logic and outcomes, prevented me from saying reassuring words. I loved Niko. Adored him. But was that enough to overcome the difference in our lifestyles, our cultures? I opened my mouth but…nothing. Niko’s face fell.
The glass door swung open. Henrik appeared. ‘Good God, man, couldn’t you at least have offered Pippa your coat?’
‘He did,’ I rambled, ‘but—’
‘Manners and chivalry may not matter in the remote corner of a tiny Greek island, but here we treat women with respect.’ Henrik removed his jacket with super-speed and wrapped it around me.
I shook off the coat. ‘I can look after myself.’
‘Clearly you’ve had to.’ He scowled at Niko. ‘What’s this all about?’
Niko met his gaze. ‘Perhaps Pippa will explain. And now I leave this party without saying goodbye. But that’s to be expected, no? You see me as an unsophisticated man who will never be cultured or intellectual enough to satisfy Pippa. But this man is proud of his roots and grateful that this trip has confirmed his suspicion that Taxos provides him with everything in life that is solid and important – everything that really matters.’
With a haughty look, Niko then pulled open the glass doors and marched out. Teeth chattering, I let Henrik drape his coat around me once again.
‘What was he mumbling about?’ said Henrik.
Unable to speak, I shrugged.
‘Come on – let’s get you in. Your hair’s curled in the snow,’ he said gently. ‘The buffet is out. Let me get you a plate of something warm.’
‘No…I don’t want to see anyone, yet.’ I sniffed. ‘Please…give me a few minutes to collect myself.’
Henrik looked down and pulled his coat tighter around me. ‘Staying out here isn’t an option. You’ll catch pneumonia. ‘He stared at me for a moment and brushed snow from my nose. ‘Look…Olivia and I have a room here. I’ll get room service to send up a plate from the buffet. She won’t mind. A bowl of Thai curry should do the job.’ Henrik passed me the key. ‘It’s number twenty-two. Feel free to use a towel if you need one. The food shouldn’t be too long.’ He kissed me on the cheek.
‘Yes, Dad,’ I mumbled and he shot me one of those Hollywood smiles the ladies loved. We left the balcony and headed back into the party room.
Eyes tingling, I glanced at my phone. No regretful messages. Okay, maybe that was a premature expectation. My throat still ached from a choking sensation. But anyway, see if I cared, said my inner teenager. If Niko was going to be so pigheaded, he could stew in our little hotel room for the rest of the evening. Yet my stomach twisted as I passed the dance floor. A slow ballad played. What if I never felt his body pressed up against mine, ever again? Nor breathe in his seductive, leather scent?
Henrik directed me to the reception area and pointed to a lift next to the stairs. I thought Olivia saw me as I passed the bar, just next to the party room’s exit. However, she turned away quickly as someone tapped her shoulder. No doubt Henrik would mention my plight.
The lift stopped at the second floor and I stepped into an immaculately decorated corridor, with mini chandeliers all along. I stopped at one of the mahogany doors that had number twenty-two written on it, within a gold metal plague. I slid the smartcard key across the door and entered. Automatically the lights switched on.
As the door quietly closed behind me, I walked forwards, eyes widening. Imagine a mini lounge, with a plush mink carpet and matching coloured armchairs and sofa. In the centre stood a shiny glass coffee table, laden with a bouquet of extravagant Christmas flowers. To the side was a cream writing desk and highback chairs. Gilt lights and mirrors punctuated the room, along with subtle watercolours.
To the left were two doors, presumably for the bedroom and bathroom. Draped over one of the armchairs was a small leather jacket, no doubt belonging to Olivia. I slipped off my high shoes and padded over to the wall-size windows at the back.
What a view. Even with the blur of snowflakes, I could spot the lapping waves of the Thames, the lit-up big wheel and Big Ben. At the sight of water, I instinctively breathed in, missing the salty air of Taxos. This skyline was super-impressive, but then so was the mountainous Kos landscape.
Except in the summer when mosquitoes swarmed over them. A sigh escaped my lips. Once I’d been so sure of what I wanted for my future. Rugged Taxos not sophisticated London. Earthy Niko, not some suave executive.
I gazed around once more at the luxury. Niko’s words made me realise that my former life hadn’t the substance that Taxos offered. He was right – some of the people I used to hang around with often wasted money getting drunk as part of their working day, saying things they regretted…and a career mattered more to them than forming real relationships with the people you spent your nine til five with.
A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts and, much warmer now, I discarded Henrik’s coat. I draped it over the chair near the writing desk and headed to the room’s door. A man in a burgundy suit, with a big silver trolley, nodded and wheeled it in. I scrabbled in my purse and thrust a few pound coins into his hand. Good thing Niko wasn’t there.
After he’d left, I studied the trolley properly, the plates covered with silver lids and a bucket of champagne. I sat down on the sofa. So, who was eating with me? Surely Henrik wouldn’t leave Olivia and the guests, at his engagement party?
Unless…had he managed to call Niko back? I took my phone out of my handbag again and scrolled down. Nothing. Perhaps I should be the first one to text. After all, I had practically accused him of cosying up to another woman. I bit my lip. No. He’d implied that I was some materialistic airhead who had no understanding of real-life hardship.
There was another knock and I padded across the mink carpet. I opened the door. Henrik. My eyes gazed up and down, scanning the giant, muscular frame, their journey ending with his handsome, Teutonic face. Attractive in a catalogue model way, Henrik lacked the enigmatic magnetism of my fisherman and those little flaws I loved, like the scar above Niko’s lips.
He strode in, clasped my hand and guided me to the sofa. We sat down and, taking my other hand, Henrik stared intently, pulling my gaze towards him.
‘At least your hands feel warmer.’ He shook his head. ‘I can’t believe Niko didn’t insist you have his jacket.’
‘He did but I forced him to take it back when our conversation got heated,’ I said and slid my hands away. ‘I’m not a fragile porcelain doll, you know.’
Henrik guffawed and I couldn’t help grinning. With the skill of a professional bartender, he eased out the champagne cork and poured two glasses, then handed me one.
‘Porcelain is not a word I’d ever associate with Pippa Pattinson.’ He raised his glass. ‘Cheers, Pips. It’s been great to see you again.’
Our glasses clinked and I took a big mouthful. He lifted the lids off the plates, to reveal an array of brightly coloured, festive goodies.
‘These are curried turkey pastry dippers and that’s clementine salmon. Then mini sherry trifles or hot cranberry and spice pudding. So let’s eat. Then you can tell me what this is all about.’
‘Henrik, I appreciate your company, really I do, but your engagement party – what about Olivia?’
‘She won’t notice me missing for half an hour. Olivia loves mingling and hasn’t seen her mum and dad for a while.’
Eating in silence, we sat together and Henrik was right, the curried turkey bites thawed icy spots within me, re-igniting my sense of injustice.
‘You know, I caught Lisette flirting madly with him,’ I blurted out, after the last mouthful of salmon. ‘On the balcony.’
Henrik almost choked. He wiped his hands with a napkin, before returning our plates to the trolley. ‘Much as I consider Ni
ko to be one of the most ungentlemanly blokes I’ve ever met, I doubt he instigated that intimacy. After a few glasses of wine, Lisette has rather a reputation for throwing herself at men.’
I sighed. ‘All I wanted was one night of fun – away from the worries of the big things like Kos’ economy.’
Henrik squidged back in the sofa and slipped an arm around my shoulders. ‘Money problems – are they causing tension between you and Niko?’
‘He more or less says I don’t understand the seriousness of his country’s turmoil. That I still expect to live the high life in Taxos.’
Henrik shrugged. ‘Niko is at least an honest man. Could he be right? You must miss all this…’ He raised his glass to the room. ‘Remember our skiing lodge last year?’
I sipped my drink. ‘How could I forget, with its Jacuzzi cum bath bigger than the double bed.’
‘And what a bed. It’s not often that we got one to accommodate my size.’
‘Huh, don’t flatter yourself,’ I said.
‘I’m talking about my height.’
We both smiled.
‘And how about that hotel ThinkBig provided for everyone, at their ten year anniversary bash?’ I said.
He nodded. ‘The velvet bed cover, the silk sheets, those orchids, and remote-controlled blinds.’
‘And the selection of free toiletries in the bathroom.’ Perhaps I was too shallow for Niko and gave too much importance to the frivolous things in life.
‘You’d fit right in at ThinkBig, with your brains, drive and interpersonal skills.’
Ah ha – was that why he’d come up to eat with me? Of course – his text about having something important to discuss. I was right – it must have been to do with a career opportunity, after all.
‘So, your phone message a few weeks ago…what did you want to tell me, Henrik? Is it to do with ThinkBig?’
He pulled back his arm, took my glass and, with his, set it back on the trolley. All humorous twinkle gone from his face, Henrik gazed into my eyes. ‘Yes.’ He cleared his throat. ‘You and me make a great team.’
My Big Fat Christmas Wedding Page 9
