Under a Greek Spell

by Simone Hubbard

  My greatest strength, when my head is functioning, would be my organisational skills. For example, I organised Mum’s surprise sixtieth birthday party. Her face when she walked into the room was a picture. Mum … that’s it! Suddenly I’m jolted into remembering last night. The text that Nikos referred to was from Mum. I can’t remember it fully, but she’d probably got her predictive text on and was texting about… Oh my God, that was it: a little dick. God only knows what she was going on about. I need to alter that setting on her phone before she gets anything else muddled up.

  Costas says my name, which snaps me out of my thought bubble. ‘The next question, Miss Collins, when you’re ready.’

  ‘Yes, thank you. So, Nikos, where do you see yourself in five years’ time?’

  Nikos has his answer all ready. He sees himself as manager of his own hotel. My thoughts stop me in my tracks. I’ll be forty in a few years; where do I want to be by then? I’ve always pictured myself being married with two kids so, with my biological clock ticking away, this goal needs addressing pretty quickly. But then, if I meet another idiot like James it just isn’t going to happen. I need to meet someone and get to know them a bit before starting a family… Maybe a sperm bank is the answer… This thought is pretty scary to say the least, and too much for my poor little head this morning.

  Nikos’s interview comes to an end. Costas offers to fetch some coffee, and takes the opportunity to have a quick chat with Nikos. I get my phone out and look at Mum’s text message. I’m struggling to read it so I borrow Costas’s reading glasses, which he’s left on the desk. There’s a new text from her, which reads:

  I’VE HAD A

  LITTLE TRIP ON

  DECK AND I’M A

  LITTLE BRUISED.

  I HAVEN’T TOLD

  YOUR DAD YET.

  IT WOULD BE GOOD

  TO REST BY THE

  POOL.

  LOVE, MUM XX

  Thank goodness! At least Mum isn’t having a midlife crisis! Costas returns with the coffee, and looks amused because I’m wearing his glasses.

  ‘Sorry, Costas. I was struggling to read a text off my mum.’

  ‘No worries, it comes to us all. Speaking of texts, what was Nikos talking about? He seemed very embarrassed.’

  I hand Costas my phone to show him the messages. He sees the funny side.

  ‘You see, Costas, predictive text at its best and people who don’t do technology – not a good combination.’

  Just as the words leave my mouth, my phone pings with another text. I can see it’s from Steph but before I can get my phone back from Costas, the message has scrolled across the top of the screen. Costas hands my phone back, looking somewhat embarrassed.

  I hold the phone at arm’s length to read the message.

  Hi Helen, just checking

  your OK after your

  night with Cistas or was

  it Costas in the end? lol

  Xx

  My face and neck flush with heat and I’m sure I’ve turned red. I put the phone back in my bag. I’ll reply to bloody Steph later. She couldn’t have timed that any worse if she’d tried. And she’s done that bloody ‘your’ thing again – give me strength.

  Costas very kindly turns the conversation to my parents’ impending visit. ‘So your parents will be here tomorrow? If you like, I can send a car to pick them up and organise some food for them from town. Or I could recommend somewhere for you all to eat.’

  ‘That would be great. I think we’ll eat in town. If you can arrange a lift, I’ll text them with the details.’

  ‘Tell them George will pick them up at nine at the port. He will have a sign with their names written on it. And I will write down the name of a fantastic restaurant, with views over the seafront, for your lunch.’

  ‘Thank you, Costas. You’re welcome to join us for lunch. It would be nice for you to meet my parents.’

  ‘Thank you, that will be good. If you are sure, I will book the restaurant for an early lunch. Now we’d better get on with the final two candidates.’

  Our next interviewee is Anna, who seems very confident. She starts off well with my favourite Tell-us-about-yourself question. She replies with a very polished answer.

  Costas asks her the next question. ‘Can you tell us about a situation in which you had to deal with an angry customer?’

  Anna starts her answer, and in my head I start mine. Working in the travel business entails endless issues that can lead to angry customers. I could spend a whole day talking about them. One of my most memorable would have to be the ash cloud crisis in 2010, when we had to deal with hundreds of angry customers all at the same time. It was extremely stressful. We had customers stranded all around the world, trying to get home, and customers stuck in the UK, trying to go on holiday. What a complete nightmare. I didn’t sleep properly for days. We were all in the office working flat out, ordering takeaways, going home exhausted and falling into bed for a few hours.

  Then there was the liquid and gels scare, when suddenly everyone was greeted with a massive queue at the airport and given a little plastic bag for their cosmetics. There were a lot of upset and angry customers then, mainly ladies who had been forced to bin perfumes and moisturisers that went over the maximum allowance or were deemed suspicious. I lost a very expensive mascara to a bin myself, and nearly got arrested when I protested that I didn’t turn into some wonder woman with special powers when I used it, like the woman in the advert. And the French and all their strikes are another favourite for upsetting customers. I mean, let’s face it, they strike at the drop of a hat.

  Suddenly, I hear my name. Anna’s waiting for the next question and Costas chirps in with ‘In your own time, Miss Collins.’

  ‘Sorry, yes. So, Anna, how do you deal with stress?’

  Anna’s approach is a little bit different to mine. She exercises, does yoga and uses some breathing technique that I’ve never heard of. My very short answer to this would be to open a bottle of wine – but maybe not today. Ooh, I feel rough.

  Costas asks the next question and I begin to feel really queasy. My nausea is accompanied by that feeling of going cold and clammy but somehow still sweating. Oh my God, I’m going to have to make a run for the toilet in the middle of an interview.

  I cut in. ‘I’m really sorry, I don’t feel well. Please excuse meee…’

  I fling my chair back and run out of the room. I head towards the nearest toilet and get there just in time. I throw up, and my legs immediately turn to jelly. I can’t believe I’ve just done that! How utterly embarrassing! I can’t imagine what on earth Costas and Anna must think.

  I splash my face with some water, rinse out my mouth and perch myself on a chair. My pulse is racing and I’m shaking.

  ‘Helen, are you in there?’

  Oh my God, it’s Costas. ‘Yes, I’m here.’

  He comes in, actually looking concerned. ‘Look, there is only one more person to interview and I can do that on my own. Why don’t you go and lie on a sunbed in the shade? I will bring you that hair of the dog. We can discuss all the interviews later, when you feel better.’

  ‘Thanks, Costas, if you’re sure. I feel really awful about all this. I was a teenager when I last felt this rough after a night on the booze.’

  ‘Well, I think you have a lot of ouzo mixed with cocktails, so I am not surprised you are ill.’

  Costas disappears and I make my way over to the sunloungers. I pull a chair under a large olive tree. It’s pleasantly warm. I lie down, still feeling shaky. I close my eyes, and just minutes later I hear Darius.

  ‘Costas send me with this drink for you, Miss Collins, to make you feel better. He said I can finish early so I am going home for a few days. It was nice to meet you, and I hope to see you again. You know, Costas is really kind man. He is … how you say? His bark is worse than his bite.’
>
  ‘Thank you, Darius, I’ll bear that in mind. It was nice to meet you too. Have a nice few days off and, who knows, maybe I’ll come back and visit you when the hotel’s open.’

  Darius shakes my hand and leaves me with my ‘hair of dog’ concoction, which tastes quite pleasant. I drink it all. Suddenly, I feel extremely tired and can’t resist the urge to close my eyes and drift off.

  I’m not sure how long I’ve been drifting in and out of sleep when I feel my dress being pulled and hear some strange noises. But I don’t really care; they’ll go away. I drift off again. Now something is licking my face. This instantly wakes me up. To my horror, there are a couple of goats eating my lovely dress. I scream, but, frankly, they don’t seem that bothered.

  ‘For pity’s sake, look at the state of my dress! Get off, you stupid bloody animals! Shoo!’ I get up but they just stand there, completely unfazed by my flailing arms, clapping hands and shouting.

  Costas needs to know about this. I march off to the interview room. The door’s open and the room’s empty. He must have finished the last interview. I find him in the bar and restaurant, where he’s talking to Nikos.

  ‘Sorry to interrupt, but look at the state of my bloody dress! It’s ruined! How the hell have those goddamn goats got in? You can’t have goats wandering round chewing the guests’ belongings! The guests will have a field day on TripAdvisor: “Eaten alive by goats”!!’

  ‘I am very sorry, Helen, but they must have escape and got through the fence. I will sort it out before we open,’ says Costas.

  ‘Well, make sure you do. It’s just not acceptable. I mean, people don’t expect to come to a five-star hotel to be eaten alive by…’ I’m mid rant when I feel the earth beneath my feet tremble. Everything around us shakes violently. ‘Oh my God, Costas! What’s happening? What is it?’

  There’s a sudden horrendous, deafening noise, which I feel vibrating through my chest. Costas and Nikos are shouting something at me. Before I register what they’re saying, they lurch forward and push me down to the floor. And then everything is black.

  Chapter 24

  Stephanie

  A tear rolls down my cheek. Once again, Richard’s timing is crap. The situation doesn’t seem real, because the writing on the card isn’t his, and that makes me feel angry. All those times when he could have sent flowers but he didn’t see the need. And now, when I’ve lost all hope, he does this. He’s suddenly interested in talking again – or, more likely, his flatmate wants him out and he can’t bear the thought of going back to his parents. Well, I’m sorry, Richard, I’ve moved on. I pick up my bag and close the door quietly behind me.

  Miraculously, I manage to leave the hotel without bumping into Carol or Sandra so I’m still in good time, although Stefanos didn’t seem too bothered about me getting back particularly quickly. I like his laid-back approach. That seems to be everyone’s way on the island.

  That being said, he’s seen me approaching and is running towards me, looking agitated. ‘Oh, thank goodness you are back. I was just about to ring you.’

  ‘Why, Stefanos, whatever’s the matter?’ I can tell immediately that he isn’t fooling about. He looks deadly serious.

  ‘I just have call from my mama. She was so upset, I hardly understand what she was telling me. She said a newsflash came on to say there has been an earthquake in Syros – and my brother is at the Syros Boutique Blue. We have both try to ring him but there is no answer. Then Aunt Katina rang to say she can’t get hold of my cousin, who has gone there for interview.’

  ‘Oh my God, Stefanos, I think that’s where Helen’s gone! I’d better try and ring her.’ My hands are shaking and I struggle to find Helen’s number even though it’s in my favourites. Her phone clicks on to voicemail almost immediately and I leave a garbled message. Stefano’s phone is ringing again; there’s a frantic exchange between him and a woman. It sounds a bit like he’s arguing with her. I send Helen a text, which is really hard to do because my hands are shaking so much.

  Stefanos finishes his call and looks quite irritated. ‘I assume your sister did not answer.’

  ‘No, she hasn’t, so I’ve sent her a text. I’m really worried, Stefanos, and I can’t even remember properly where she said she was going. I was just happy…’ I break down at this point because when Helen was telling me her plans, I was looking forward to spending time with Stefanos and wasn’t paying any attention to what she was saying.

  Stefanos puts his arms round me. ‘Look, do not worry, we will find out where she is. Can you remember anything?’

  ‘I know it was the name of an island, followed by “Boutique Blue”.’

  ‘Okay, well, that narrows it down to about ten hotels. What about ringing her boss?’

  ‘Well, I can ring her office. I’ve got that number in my contacts.’

  Luckily, whoever answers the phone in Helen’s office is able to put me straight through to Daniel. He confirms that she’s at the Syros Boutique Blue Hotel, which makes me feel sick to my stomach. I relay the earthquake information to Daniel and he promises to ring the hotel immediately and get back to me.

  ‘What did he say?’ Stefanos asks. He’s looking a bit calmer now.

  ‘It is the Syros Boutique Blue and he’s going to try ringing the hotel and then he’ll let me know.’

  ‘Well, that was Nikos’s fiancée that I was speaking to. She has already been trying and there is no answer, even on the emergency phone line. The other problem is that the hotel is a bit isolated and, with people assuming it is closed, they might not raise the alarm. My mama says everything looks quite frantic on the news. I suggest we go over there on the next ferry, which gives us an hour to pack an overnight bag and get to the harbour. Is that okay with you?’

  ‘Yes, anything is worth a try. I’ll go back to my room now and pack an overnight bag.’ I feel better now that we’re doing something, rather than just trying to get through on phones.

  ‘Okay, I will go and fill up with petrol and meet you back here in fifteen minutes. You will need your passport, and maybe some money would be useful. I will ask my father to pack some things for me and also to book us on the next ferry to save time.’

  ‘Right. I’ll see you in fifteen minutes. Let’s hope Stavros can get us on that ferry.’ This is a first for me, actually wanting to get on a boat.

  I race to my room and arrive at the same time as the housekeeper. I ask her to wait for ten minutes. She seems to understand and retreats back outside, leaving the door wedged open.

  My passport’s the priority. It’s in a safe at the bottom of the wardrobe. I get down on my hands and knees and key in the code. Nothing happens. Well, why would it, when I’m in such a rush? I remember Helen said something about the hash key; now, was it supposed to go before the code or after? I try it before the code and nothing happens. I try it after and again nothing happens.

  ‘Oh, please, don’t do this to me. For crying out loud, just bloody well open!’ I shout in frustration at the stupid thing.

  ‘Hello? Is everything all right?’

  The housekeeper’s back. She’s probably wondering why neither occupant of this room has slept in the beds, and why someone is now trying to get into the safe while talking to herself.

  ‘Oh, yes, sorry. I need my passport. My sister set the code and now I can’t get in to it and I’m in a big rush.’ I’m starting to panic. We simply don’t have enough time to get a locksmith in.

  ‘Oh, I see. Well, you press the star key first, then the code, then this key,’ comes a calm reply. The housekeeper points to the hash key with her foot.

  ‘Well, no wonder it wouldn’t work! Helen never mentioned the star key,’ I say, half laughing while I repeat the instruction to myself. ‘Star key, two, five, one, two, hash key,’ and, hey presto, the safe makes a funny little noise and the door opens. Thank goodness.

  ‘Thank you! You’ve saved the d
ay,’ I say to the housekeeper. Of course, now I’m going to look really guilty, taking a passport and helping myself to the money that’s in there as well.

  ‘Now, how do I lock it?’ There are a couple of bits of Helen’s jewellery in there, which I’d better secure.

  ‘Just the same, then the code will flash on the screen for a few seconds.’ With that, she disappears, and, sure enough, the safe is locked.

  I gather myself up off the floor, grab a bra and knickers and head to the bathroom to change out of my bikini. Then I tip the contents of my beach bag on to the bed. I throw in a change of underwear and some clothes, and I zip my passport and money into a pocket. I chuck my emergency make-up in a small zipped pouch for good measure, and race out of the room in a record time of twelve minutes. This gives me three minutes to get to the front of the hotel, where Stefanos will hopefully be waiting.

  He pulls up just as I arrive and I jump in. ‘Okay, fasten your seatbelt. We need to catch that ferry. Did Helen’s office get back to you?’ Before I can answer, Stefanos hits the accelerator and we screech off. This poor car is going to be pushed to its limit.

  I haven’t heard my phone ringing but I get it out to check. ‘I’ve had a text from an unknown number.’

  Sorry we’ve been unable

  to contact the hotel

  where Helen is. There

  is no reply from our

  other hotels on the island

  or the reps. I’m really sorry

  I don’t know what else to

  suggest but will let you

  know if we contact anyone.

  Please let me know if you

  find anything else out

  Regards, Daniel.

  I can see a bus coming up the hill. Stefanos obviously notices it as well and accelerates as hard as he can. We get to the hairpin bend first, almost on two wheels. I daren’t even look down at the sheer drop on my side. My stomach’s churning and I’m anxious that we catch the next ferry. Bloody hell – the ferry! What am I thinking? I’d better take some seasickness tablets. Please let there be some tablets in my make-up bag! I start rummaging through my beach bag and finally find the little pouch, which has made its way to the bottom. I open it and, there on the top, are the two out-of-date condoms, which Stefanos immediately sees.