Game of Scones (17 page)

‘No doubt he owes our island’s mayor many favours.’ Niko wrinkled his nose. ‘Anyway, I no here about Henrik. Just to say… I appreciate your honesty yesterday. You right. I lucky man with Leila. Seeing you this last week had thrown me off balance. You and I, we no longer know each other and Taxos’ future is all that matters.’

‘Oh… um… agreed. That’s exactly how I feel.’ It is. Even though my hand longed to touch his; even though he looked crazy sexy in that casual shirt and jeans.

‘Although I question your motives…’ A frown crossed his face. ‘You say your heart is in Taxos, but yesterday sounded as if rescuing it from financial ruin was nothing but an interesting project.’

I fiddled with the ring box. ‘Look…’

‘No matter. I don’t care about that. As long as we defeat ThinkBig. That is all I care about – along with my family and Leila.’

‘Niko…’ Please, upturn those soft lips, make those deep, rich eyes dance with laughter.

He held up his palm. ‘Save it. Right, Papa sent me here to say he and Mama are cleaning the unused side of our taverna from head to toe this morning, so there no point in coming over.’

‘Don’t shoosh me, Niko. There’s no need to be rude.’

‘Well, clearly you don’t want me to be friendly. Which is it, Pippa? You can’t have it both ways.’

What could I say?

‘So, to continue, Postie has just visited – he has permission to open up today, so that we can all use the printer. This morning you go there, with Leila – help carry on the work we did last night, putting together the leaflet. Cosmo will join you to complete maps of the cycling routes and the village. Then Pandora , Demetrios, the Dellis’ and everyone else offering a service will give you a short paragraph for Leila to translate, along with prices. Leila already has the information needed for my boat trips and Papa’s birdwatching walks.’

‘Fine. That means later today we can print everything out and first thing tomorrow some of us can go into Kos Town to spread the word.’ I avoided his eye, returning his clipped tones.

‘Yes. Demetrios, from the pottery has already designed a pattern for the front of the leaflet, in gold and red. And you could start on your menu, today. Mama thought we could ask Pandora to supply the teashop with traditional Greek pastries – that way we no steal her trade.’

I stood up and filled the kettle. ‘You must have all got up early to think this through.’ I glanced at the clock. ‘It’s only half past eight.’

‘This is our life at risk, Pippa. It’s not just a challenging project to us. We have no time to waste as you and your expertise, to help us, are only here for two weeks.’ Niko stood up. ‘I need to start hunting out barbecue equipment and making signs that look a least a bit professional.’ Expressionless he gazed at me. ‘I go. Let’s both strive to at least be civil.’

Before I knew it, he was gone and I sipped my coffee, hoping it would salve my aching chest. But that ache had no physical cause – it had roots in the feeling that I’d lost something special.

I felt no better, hours later, when I headed to the taverna following a morning putting the leaflet together. We’d decided to head it “
Taxos – the hidden treasure of Kos. Discover the wonders of the real Greek way of life
”. Leila had helped me understand the villagers’ scribblings. We kept the amount of information short and punchy, including photos where possible.

Sophia and Georgios waved. They sat at a table, outside, both drinking orange granitas. Sophia wore a scarf around her hair and Georgios’ head glistened with sweat. His normally white shirt had dust marks across it and a mop leaned against Sophia’s chair.

‘
Ya sou
, Pippa! Let me get you a drink,’ said Georgios and swatted away a fly as he stood up. I took off my hat and glasses, glad to sit under the shade of the table’s parasol. I took the first leaflet printed out of my handbag and held it open for Sophia.

‘Here we have a list of attractions in Taxos,’ I said. ‘The pottery workshop and the baker’s pastries plus cooking classes… There are details of the days out cycling or birdwatching – everything we’ve discussed.’ We smiled at each other. ‘Looks impressive, doesn’t it?’

Sophia glanced at the leaflet again. ‘I like the red and gold colour, and calling Taxos the hidden treasure of Kos. Hey, look Georgios!’

He returned with my granita and whilst I gratefully downed mouthfuls of icy drink, Georgios held the leaflet at a distance and studied each paragraph.

‘Is very, very good,’ he said finally, and patted my arm. ‘You’ve all worked hard. I like the simple layout – not too much information, clear prices and everything in Greek or English…’ He waved the leaflet. ‘Will these be ready to drop off in Kos Town tomorrow?’

‘Yes, and hopefully, from Tuesday, a little business should start to roll in. As you can see, we’ve included phone numbers. I gave the taverna’s for the teashop, your birdwatching tours and Niko’s boat trips – I hope that is all right.’

He gazed at the leaflet again, particularly the paragraph describing the teashop. ‘What is this?’

Sophia leant over to read it too and grinned.

‘Grandma wanted to do her bit…’ I gave a sheepish smile. ‘So I suggested she be on hand in the teashop to read guests’ coffee sediment. Tourists love that sort of stuff.’

Georgios burst out laughing. ‘No wonder she was up early today with us, insisting on taking our empty cups into the kitchen. She was getting some practise in!’

‘You a good girl,
Pippitsa
,’ said Sophia, softly. ‘Grandma whistling this morning – we no heard her do that for months.’

‘Did someone mention my name?’ Grandma appeared at the doorway and everyone chuckled.

I passed her my granita glass. ‘Can you read ice as well?’

Eyes laughing, she shook her finger. ‘No, but I can pour it over cheeky girls’ heads.’

Grandma was still threatening to slip ice cubes down my neck, half an hour later, when I messed up her tidy kitchen by pulling out ingredients. It was time to assemble a menu for Taxos Teashop. I could have jumped up and down as the reality of me living my dream sunk in.

Anyone for Earl Grey and cucumber sandwiches? Time to be serious, though. I needed to plan the menu with military precision so that it appealed both to the villagers and potential tourists. Right… definite options would be the most favourite scones from the meeting yesterday. Plus Grandma liked those honey and dried fig ones and cherry scones always went down well… Furiously, I jotted flavours down. Plus Sophia mentioned she would collect some of Pandora’s baklava and chocolate walnut tart… I surveyed the list. None of the ingredients were very expensive and I wouldn’t make whole batches of each flavour until I got an idea of how many might sell, per day. We could open up to locals tomorrow afternoon after my trip to Kos Town, seeing as the place was now clean. Stefan was dropping the sign off later and Georgios and Sophia’s computer printer was good enough, just to print off a few basic menus. So, in preparation for tomorrow, I’d just make a few scones that the Greek villagers might like.

Humming, I sieved flour into a bowl and rubbed in a small amount of butter. My shoulders relaxed and my breathing rate fell. As always, making scones helped empty my mind of worries and focus it, instead, on textures and flavours. When the mixture turned to small squidgy crumbs between my fingers, I divided it into four. Into one quarter I added a pinch of salt, quartered olives and a little oregano. In the other a cupful of chopped roasted red pepper, leftover from yesterday, with a pinch of paprika. Into the third quarter, honey and chopped dried figs and into the final lot, sugar, grated lemon rind and lemon juice… Then I kneaded each separately.

Mmm, how divine to breathe in the contrasting aromas of citrus, meaty pepper and pungent black olives. My mouth upturned as I watched the dough’s blank canvas change into four different pictures. I used Sophia’s small pie cutters to divide the four lumps of dough further, into perfect rounds. I glazed the savoury ones with beaten egg and the sweet ones with milk.

Aahhh, imagine doing this every day of your life. Although I wasn’t naive enough to think it wouldn’t ever become routine…

I’d need an extra challenge, such as… I don’t know, perhaps creating an online shop. I’d also have a scone of the month and run competitions for local children to create a new recipe that they’d come in and bake. Plus I’d produce gift vouchers for locals to give as presents, a bit like Afternoon Tea at The Ritz, just with cheaper crockery, Greek music and sunshine thrown in.

I swallowed. Yes, I was lucky, not many people ever got near living their dream, but it was going to be hard, handing the teashop over completely to its owners in two weeks and leaving to return to my banking job in London.

Banking. Mathematics. Studying. Exams. This had been my life, up until now. If the opportunity came along to give it all up permanently and live here, could I really sacrifice everything career-wise I’d achieved? A chirpy voice inside me immediately answered yes. It listed all the reasons, including how well I’d been sleeping in Taxos and how I hadn’t suffered a single stress headache. Plus back in London I’d inwardly groan as my alarm clock woke me up each day, whereas here in dear Kos I gladly woke to birds and jumped out of bed.

Shoulders aching from kneading, scrubbing and sweeping up, I strolled home late that afternoon, having agreed with Leila that she and I would take the leaflets into Kos Town, early the next morning. Indefatigable Sophia had just set out to tour Taxos with the petition. Whistling, I breathed in the cedar pine aroma of the wooded forest with relish. An old man walking a donkey approached, as I came to the dusty road leading to the villa. I was carrying a small basket of scones back to the villa, for Henrik and me, and offered him one. Then two young boys cycled past and shouting something to each other, before laughing and stopping. I grinned as they greedily took one each. If Taxos lost the appeal, this road would be filled with unsteady tourists on mopeds, the engines of quad bikes revving in the far distance. I quickened my pace. That wasn’t going to happen. The leaflet showed how much Taxos had to offer without some tacky, fancy development.

I turned my key in the lock and the aroma of … mmm, garlic and fish welcomed me. Henrik came into the hallway, still in his shirt but with his tie off and shirt sleeves rolled up.

‘Something smells delicious,’ I said and smiled. ‘It’s so humid, you should have got changed. I’m gasping for a glass of water.’ Henrik mumbled something as I headed into the kitchen and put the basket down on the breakfast bar.

I stopped dead and stared at the sofa as someone stood up. Huh? What was smarmy Stavros with his dyed curly hair and generous waistline doing here?

‘A pleasure to meet you, Pippa,’ he said and came over to give my hand a wet kiss – urgh, those yellow-stained teeth. ‘Henrik kindly invited me to dinner, so that you and I could chat. No point delaying so let me be straight, and explain to you everything that is wrong and dangerous with your birdwatching and cycle tour plans to save the Taxos.’

‘Um, what birdwatching?’ I said, innocently.

He smiled. ‘Pippa, dear lady, Kos is a very small island.’

Damn. Somehow he must have found out about all our ideas and the leaflets.

Stavros stretched out his legs and put his arms behind his head. I forced my gaze to avoid the sweat patches on his shirt.

‘What do you mean, dangerous?’ I said.

‘For tourists and villagers – the former face injury, the second a stint in jail.’

My brow furrowed.

‘Take these boat trips and the cycle rides…’ he began. ‘I assume lifejackets and helmets will be provided, plus those in charge have insurance, no? Plus are up-to-date with first aid as well? And added paperwork will be needed for those premises offering pottery and baking classes…’

Damn – he really did know what we were up to.

‘Of course. I made sure the villagers drew up a list of permissions and licences to apply for. I’m handing it into the council tomorrow morning, when I’m in Kos Town.’

Stavros chuckled. ‘I suspected as much. With an astute businesswoman on their side, the villagers will do well. But…’ he shrugged, ‘… oh dear, the council is a busy place at the moment. I might have to suggest that such applications are buried for a while, to give priority to more important work.’

I gasped. ‘You can’t do that!’

He smirked.

‘This will mean that all of your little projects provide nothing but a healthy and safety nightmare scenario.’

My lips pursed. ‘Everyone involved is an experienced, safety-conscious adult. I’m sure nothing will happen. ‘

Stavros puffed out his chest. ‘Sorry, but it would be irresponsible of me if I didn’t inform the necessary authorities.’

‘And perhaps it would be irresponsible of me not to report your suggested illegal tax breaks,’ I said in a tight voice.

Stavros burst out laughing. ‘Dear girl, I have a strong network of friends throughout the whole of Kos – most of the people you’d speak to owe me favours. They would not listen to a random tourist.’

‘Stavros is right, Pips,’ said Henrik. ‘Think it through – you wouldn’t want the villagers to get into trouble.’

I forced a smile. ‘Sounds as if you are both running scared… What’s the matter? Has it suddenly hit home that community spirit might defeat corporate greed?’

Stavros guffawed again and wiped a tear from his eye. ‘You live in a dream world, Miss Pattinson. Full of unrealistic ideals.’

I stared at the pompous mayor for a moment. ‘Look Stavros, what’s it going to take for you to leave off the villagers, for just two weeks?’

‘Do you really believe they stand a chance against us?’ He shook his head. ‘From what Henrik says, you are a savvy businesswoman who must realise there is no hope for Taxos without ThinkBig’s investment. I’m amazed you haven’t got on board with his proposal.’

‘I’m a human first and foremost and nothing compares to their passion,’ I snapped. ‘And if you are so convinced they’ll fail to defeat ThinkBig’s plans, why do the next two weeks matter? At least if the villagers make some attempt to save their way of life, the final outcome will be easier for them to cope with. These people are my friends – I don’t want them to feel any more miserable about this than necessary.’