Game of Scones (16 page)

‘Although the Vesteros family still want to accept ThinkBig’s offer on their property,’ said Sophia, ‘which stands where the quad bike track would be built.’

‘Yes. A few villagers spoke keenly of the tax breaks but…’ I shrugged… ‘I’ve spoken to lots of people and most are willing to give our ideas their best shot, over the next couple of weeks. They like the sound of attracting people here because of the wildlife and more traditional activities. Then just before I leave perhaps we can reassess – decide if our plans really could save the village.’

‘Also they like the idea of the teashop.’ Sophia smiled. ‘Those roasted pepper scones disappeared within minutes.’

My stomach tingled at the prospect of helping my friends set up their teashop tomorrow.

We went back into the taverna. Villagers had spilled out onto the front road. I surveyed the room. Niko sat in the far corner, near the patio, drinking retsina. He caught my eye and turned away as quickly as he could.

I winced, handed my plate of scones to Leila and took a deep breath. As I clapped my hands, a hush fell.

‘
Efharisto
, again, for coming,’ I said. ‘I am glad most of you are keen to save the Taxos we know and love.’

Did that sarcastic laugh come from Niko?

An unfamiliar Greek voice shouted out from the back of the crowd and I looked to Georgios whose cheeks flushed.

‘He says is a pity your Dutch boyfriend isn’t more traditional.’

I bit my lip. ‘Henrik is a successful real estate developer and feels he’s doing the best from a financial view. But we have a chance to offer an alternative.’ I glanced at Demetrios. ‘When will you be able to start offering pottery workshops?’

He loosened his cravat and smiled. ‘As soon as. I have the clay.’

‘Same with my baking lessons,’ said Pandora.

‘We need about two days to build pens for our small animal farm – our neighbours have offered to help,’ said Mrs Dellis.

‘I only need tomorrow to plan the cycle route for my tours, and put together some maps,’ said Cosmo, slipping his harmonica into his jeans’ pocket.

‘The fishing trips can be slotted in early afternoon, during my usual siesta,’ said Niko, in a loud slurred voice. ‘Tourists don’t seem to mind the hot sun. That mean when getting back it’ll be time for a barbecue dinner.’

‘And
Pippitsa
– tomorrow we set up your afternoon teashop,’ said Georgios. ‘You spend the day cooking. We spend the day with soapy water and mops.’

‘I can have your shop sign made by tomorrow night,’ said Cousin Stefan.

A woman shouted something out in Greek.

‘Good idea!’ said Sophia and everyone nodded. She turned to me. ‘We should start up a petition – I can help with that. We have friends in neighbouring villages who will doubtless support us.’

I beamed. ‘Great… So, all that leaves is to put together that leaflet listing all our services with prices. Perhaps Leila could help me translate the Greek to English.’

‘Of course, Pippa.’ Leila shot me one of her friendly smiles.

‘Then some of us can head into Kos Town and distribute them in shops and travel agencies…’ I turned to Postie. ‘Do you think the post office would let us use its printer, at a discounted rate?’

His brow furrowed so Leila translated.

‘For sure,’ he said.

‘We also need to put together some paperwork,’ I said. ‘Listing our objections and–’

‘Count me out,’ said a voice from the back. ‘I no risk upsetting ThinkBig. My family come first – I need the franchise of one of those takeaways.’

A couple of voices murmured in agreement and a tall, thin man at the back, with a ponytail, just crossed his arms and listened.

‘I understand. You feel ThinkBig offers the only way out of this recession – but at what price? Pride in your job? Happiness in where you live? The modest tradition of your way of life lost, in favour of the reckless lifestyle of binge-drinking young tourists?’ I gazed around at everyone.

‘What you care?’ said another voice. ‘You go home soon, back to England.’

Niko sneered at me, as if he’d like to add ‘Hear, hear’.

‘And I shall leave my heart here,’ I said quietly. ‘Taxos is special. More than anything, I want to preserve that.’

Shaking his head, Niko got up and went onto the back patio. Luckily no one else seemed to notice.

Georgios spoke to the villagers in Greek as if he were translating what I said and some people’s faces softened.

In fact, one person clapped and within seconds the sound of applause and stamping feet filled the room. Retsina was drunk, the remaining scones were scoffed and people punched the air whilst making fighting talk. Then, to the tired strains of Cosmo’s harmonica, the yawning villagers returned to their beds. Several of us left behind started planning out leaflets and posters.

We agreed to keep in touch during the week and perhaps Friday night have a community barbecue on the beach, to take stock of the progress made. Sophia kept us supplied with coffee. Grandma hugged us all, before heading to bed. Niko disappeared – perhaps for a bracing sea walk so that he could sober up. Finally, at gone one in the morning, when I could write no more, I helped wash and clear the last plates and cups, before preparing to walk the fifteen minutes home.

‘I accompany you back,’ said Demetrios.

‘No you won’t,’ said a voice from the doorway.

I glanced over. Henrik? ‘I thought you were sleeping over in Kos Town.’

He said nothing but looked around the tables, littered with pens and paper.

‘So, this is the headquarters of Operation Reject ThinkBig’s Once-in-a-lifetime Offer?’

‘Henrik, look…’

‘It’s okay. I understand.’ His eyes crinkled as he smiled. ‘I’ll wait for you outside.’

I grabbed my handbag and sunhat, before kissing everyone goodbye.

‘We see you tomorrow morning,
Pippitsa
?’ said Sophia and gave a wide yawn.

I winked. ‘Yes. Bright and early. Chin up, everyone. We’ll give this our best shot.’

I headed out towards Henrik but didn’t take his hand. We walked in silence, up Taxos’ central high street, past The Fish House and Pandora’s bakery. It was another typically humid August night, accompanied by the chirp of cicadas and mew of a passing tabby cat. In the distance an owl hooted and a welcome breeze lifted my hair. Henrik looked fashion-catalogue perfect, as usual, with his long legs in tailored beige chinos and a short-sleeved linen shirt just tight enough to hint at his pecs. He’d slicked back his thick hair and a holiday tan made his slate eyes seem paler – and more appealing – than ever. And quickly I extinguished the thought that Nico’s exotic mocha eyes, ruffled hair and casual clothes were far sexier.

I glanced away as we headed towards the dusty road, wondering why this man beside me, impressive on the inside and out, wasn’t enough. We cut through the wooded area and I relished nature’s cedar pine aftershave – no celebrity or fashion designer could come up with a fragrance to beat that.

‘Why did you come back to Taxos tonight?’ I said and looked up at him.

Henrik gave a wry smile. ‘We’re on holiday. I didn’t want to spend my last Saturday night here with some pompous mayor who spends the evening eyeing up short-skirted tourists. He just got more and more drunk, sneering about the Taxos villagers, saying they’d be utterly stupid to reject my company’s “generous offer”.’ He shrugged. ‘I may agree but I don’t look down on your friends…’ He cleared his throat. ‘In fact, clearly the villagers are going to try to fight off the project. I kind of respect that.’

‘Yes and… I’m helping them. Sorry, Henrik, but I simply can’t approve ThinkBig’s plans.’

Then a not uncomfortable silence fell as we strolled along the dusty path, away from the village. Eventually we reached the villa – thankfully without a single mosquito bite. I went in, turned on the lights and kicked off my sandals. We both sat down on the sofa. Henrik took my hand.

‘I owe you an apology, Pippa – for keeping ThinkBig’s proposition from you all these months. And… I get what you are trying to do for the village. Like me, you are fighting for what you consider to be right. That’s why I love you.’

Blimey. Henrik didn’t often use the L word.

‘In fact… ‘He slid onto the floor, and whilst on one knee slipped a hand beneath a cushion. Out came a royal blue velvet box.

Oh no. No, no, no… Don’t do this, Henrik. Not now that I’ve finally made up my mind we have no future together.

‘Pippa… You not supporting me yesterday, at the town hall meeting, in a perverse way made me more sure than ever, that you are The One. You are independent… courageous… morally admirable… everything I aspire to be.’ His voice wavered. ‘Marry me, Pippa. We make a great team – have the same life-goals.’

He opened a box to reveal a ring only Henrik could have chosen. Beautiful in its simplicity, its practicality, it was a slim silver band with three small diamonds embedded in the metal.

‘Henrik… no…’

My vision went blurry as tears threatened – a sensation I was not used to, back in England. But first of all, today, I’d had to reject Niko against my true feelings, and now I was going to have to turn down a man I truly cared for.

He half-smiled and took the ring out of the box. ‘Just try it on, Pippa… for me,’ he whispered.

I swallowed. It slipped on. A perfect fit.

‘I… I’ve sensed in recent weeks a distance between us,’ he said, and sat back up on the sofa. ‘So if you need time, that’s okay. But there is no question in my mind. We fit, Pippa – as well as your finger and that ring. We are both ambitious, and follow our heads. As a couple we could achieve great things. Just look at your Mum and Dad.’

I smiled at him, really wanting to feel a rush of excitement surge through my veins, willing me to throw my arms around his neck and shout to the world that this man was mine.

However, all I could think of was the words Niko had used to describe me, like “mountain mist”. Whereas Henrik’s declaration of love used business-speak like “team” and “goals”. And as for us being like Mum and Dad… No. Returning to Taxos had only confirmed what I’d secretly thought all these years – that boarding school and jet-setting through the world without getting to know your very own neighbours… That wasn’t for me or my potential children.

Henrik stood up. ‘Look. Let’s go to bed. It’s almost two and we’ve both got a big day tomorrow.’

On automatic, I nodded as he bent down to brush his lips against mine. But his touch, which lit no flames, sent a different kind of guilty jolt through me. I couldn’t do this. I, for one, had to be honest. Henrik deserved that. Urgh! A conscience was a troublesome thing.

‘Look… There’s something you don’t know: last night, on the beach, and since we’ve arrived…’ Deep breaths. ‘I… I’ve got… I’ve had feelings for Niko.’

Chapter Fourteen

With a roar, Henrik fled out of the villa and sprinted into Taxos, convinced that Niko must have made a move on me. By the time I’d caught up, with a torch, sandals rubbing against my heels, he was hammering on the door of the Sotiropoulos’ taverna. I grabbed his arm, hissing that he’d upset Grandma, but Henrik easily held me at a distance with one hand, whilst continuing to knock with the other. Finally Niko answered. Henrik let go of me, dragged him onto the road and punched him in the face. Niko went flying and landed, face down, in the dust, blood streaming from his mouth.

Ooh, wasn’t that just like a scene from one of my romantic sagas? *sigh* Sorry for the deception, but yes, I made it up. Instead, back at the villa, last night, Henrik’s eyes had widened for a moment and he pursed his lips. Then he calmly announced it was no surprise – Niko and I were good friends, we “had history” and yesterday I was upset about the news concerning Taxos. That was bound to have confused my mind. That once back in London, everything about Taxos and Niko would be forgotten. He kissed my cheek – said it didn’t change how he felt, that we’d talk about it the next day.

But then Henrik had never been the jealous sort – nor one for hot arguments, which was good, right? Aarggh, no! Just occasionally a woman wanted proof that a man would fight for her. Like those scenes from Bridget Jones’s Diary, when Hugh Grant and Colin Firth shatter glass and tumble into a fountain.

Didn’t it rile Henrik at all that my lips and another man’s had almost danced the rumba? Where was his passion for me? A passion Niko had no trouble demonstrating with his misty mountain and orange sunset words…

*Sigh* again. Must bury that thought; must be grateful that Henrik was so sane; so level-headed – so stereotypically cool and clinically Dutch and not an impulsive, hot-blooded Mediterraneono (yes, made-up word). Perhaps he was right – I’d lost all sense in Greece and once back home, it would seem like nothing more than a dream. With another sigh I glanced at the pillow next to me. Henrik wasn’t there. The air smelt of tea tree shampoo, as I fought my way out of the mosquito net. He must have already left. Yawning again, I strolled into the kitchen and noticed a note.

Meet me back here tonight. I’ll cook dinner. Henrik.

Next to it sat the blue velvet box. I opened it and slid the understated ring onto my finger again. At that moment the front door bell went. Hoping I looked half-decent in my shorts and T-shirt pyjama set, I smoothed down my hair before heading down the corridor by the bedrooms. I pulled open the front door.

‘Niko!’ Was it the morning sun making me feel hot, or something else?

‘
Ya sou
, Pippa.’ He met my eye, mouth straight, no teasing light radiating from those mocha eyes. ‘May I come in?’ he asked and cleared his throat. His gaze fell onto my hand – the ring – and colour rose into his cheeks.

‘It’s not what you think,’ I rambled. ‘Nothing’s been agreed. I’m just–’

‘Whatever,’ he interrupted. ‘Is none of my business.’

I stood to one side so that he could come into the villa, and shut the door behind us. We headed into the kitchen and sat up the breakfast bar.

‘Coffee?’

He shook his head, expression not changing whilst I slipped off the ring and put it back in the box.

‘Henrik no here?’

‘He’s spending the day in Kos Town, having lunch with the quad bike track designers. Then drinks with Stavros later.’