My Big Fat Christmas Wedding (12 page)

BOOK: My Big Fat Christmas Wedding
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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 Niko 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.’

‘We used to.’

‘Gah, Pippa! I’ve seen the way you’ve loved chatting with old colleagues tonight. And you blend into these luxurious surroundings as if you are one of the fittings.’

‘Oh, thanks – I think.’

‘ThinkBig are diversifying – we’re moving on from developing land in impoverished countries.’ He beamed. ‘We’re opening offices in Dubai and I’m to head up the team.’

‘Dubai?’ I said. ‘Gosh… I mean, congratulations.’

‘With their fluid economy the possibilities are endless,’ he went on excitedly. ‘Billionaires who’ll pay any amount of money to live in the most unique condo or to own the most exclusively located hotel.’

‘Ah, well that
is
important news – I’m really pleased for you. Thanks for telling me before you depart.’ Lesson learnt for thinking his announcement would be all about me!

‘You’d love Dubai,’ he continued. ‘The weather, the cosmopolitan feel of ex-pats, the visionary feel of businesses and architecture… I envisage it as an ultra-modern Greek coast.’

‘What does Olivia think?’ I said. ‘Has she started looking for a job? Will you get married out there or—’

A quizzical expression crossed his face.

‘Pips – have I not made myself plain? I want
you
to come with me;
you
sitting opposite me in the boardroom.’ Henrik’s cheeks flushed. ‘And each night I want you lying next to me with…’ His voice wavered. ‘…my arms holding you tight.’

Chapter Nine

Henrik shuffled slightly on the sofa and stared at me intently. ‘Oh come on, Pips – you feel it too. Breaking up was a mistake.’

‘No…it wasn’t.’

Henrik raised one eyebrow.

‘And what about Olivia?’ I continued, heart pumping hard as if it feared I was about to flatline. I reached for my champagne and drained the glass. How the light would have drained from Niko’s flirty eyes if he heard this conversation. And as for Olivia – how could Henrik be so callous? Here he was at his engagement party, asking another woman to disappear to the other side of the world with him. The executive crowd I’d hung around with in London were ruthless at making business decisions, yes – but surely they weren’t – I hadn’t been – so clinical when it came to personal lives?

I stared at Henrik – remembered the time we’d gone on a skiing weekend to France, instead of attending my great aunt’s eightieth birthday bash. I bit my lip. Mum and Dad were no homebodies themselves, but I could tell they’d been a little disappointed. And much as I disliked her, I recalled the time I felt sorry for Greta when she’d twisted her ankle but Henrik and I couldn’t visit to help because we’d both had to work late to meet deadlines.

An uncomfortable, heavy sensation spread through my limbs. Henrik glanced into his lap for a moment and then gazed up, fiddling with his watch. ‘I’ve come to realise, all a bit too late that… Olivia is what popular culture would call my Rebound Girl.’

‘But you seem so well-matched,’ I spluttered.

‘You’re the one for me, Pippa – always have been; always will. Olivia’s great, but…’ He let go of his watch. ‘Since our split I think I finally understand about the romance stuff you read in those novels. With Olivia, the world seems a less…fascinating place. When I wake up in the morning the first thing I think of is work, not her laugh, nor her face.’ He shrugged. ‘I like to please her with gifts, trips out and…I don’t know…be a listening ear when she’s down.’ Henrik took my hand. ‘But it’s not my mission in life, Pippa. Whereas with you…I don’t think I understood just how much my happiness depended on yours.’

Wow. A lyrical Henrik. ‘You shouldn’t be telling me this first – go and find her; come clean.’ I stared at him. ‘But only if you’re sure, I mean – since being with Olivia, you’ve become more charitable, you like animals and are more demonstrative…that’s all good, no?’

‘Olivia may be good for me, but so are wholemeal bread and vitamin tablets. Whereas what makes life worth living is the chocolate and cocktails. That’s you. I realise that now.’

‘Wholemeal bread?’ I muttered and took away my hand. Poor, poor Olivia. How
could
he speak of her in those terms? This explained why he gave her my engagement ring. His heart wasn’t in the union to start with. I recalled her comments about Henrik giving her gifts – as if he was testing her out. My stomach pinched. Had Henrik been practising his romantic skills on her to win me back? So calculating. So clinical. Lovely Olivia deserved better than that. He should never have started seeing her, let alone got engaged, if he still had strong feelings for me.

I swallowed. Niko didn’t spoil me with expensive items, but with little things that meant so much, like slipping a beautiful flower into my hair or preparing a sumptuous picnic. Even after a hard day’s fishing he’d often bake spicy meatballs, because he knew they were my favourite. Then for our one month anniversary (that he insisted we celebrate) he asked Demetrios to craft a special present – an orange jellyfish. He declared it was to remind me of the time he saved me from a shoal of them when we were kids. Niko still bore the scars.

‘This ceramic jellyfish, Pippa, is a symbol that I will always look out for you, no matter what.’

My eyes tingled. And I could see now, that’s all he’d been doing in recent weeks – looking out for my – our – future, by saving hard.

‘And indeed I
have
changed, Pips,’ Henrik said earnestly. ‘That makes us better suited than ever. I hate the expression, but I’m more
in touch with my feelings
.’ His eyes gleamed. ‘Come with me to Dubai. I’m thinking palm trees, luxury cars, the biggest shopping mall in the world, private yacht clubs and oh the career opportunities for people like us. You and me, Pips, climbing the corporate ladder together, away from your Greek island with its ever-changing tax laws and unstable business prospects.’ He brushed a hand against my cheek. ‘You’ve had your holiday romance. It’s time to come back to the grown-up world.’

I shook my head. ‘Henrik. Believe me. My place is in Taxos.’

He laughed. ‘Please. Haven’t you satisfied this childhood dream yet? Baking scones for a living in an unstylish village – that’ll never satisfy the real you. You’ve played at being a shopkeeper for a few months. Now it’s time to get back with the programme.’ He leant forward. ‘In Dubai you’d never have to cook again. We’ll eat out. Enjoy business breakfasts. Employ a housekeeper.’

The Pippa’s Pantry sign popped into my head. ‘But I like baking,’ I said, feeling all fuzzy inside.

I recalled Cosmo wolfing down one of my yogurt and honey scones and little Theo’s mouth covered in chocolate crumbs. I pictured Grandma, sitting in the corner, reading coffee sediment and a twinkly-eyed Niko playfully ruffling my hair, saying it didn’t matter that my latest attempt at baking a Greek pastry had turned out drier than a sailor’s chapped lips.

‘Yes, Pips, and I enjoy gym workouts, but it doesn’t mean I want to become a sweaty, piss-paid personal trainer. Big bucks aren’t in scones – they are in sheiks with more dirhams than they know how to spend. Tell me, when was the last time you visited a spa or bought something frivolous?’

‘Life’s not just about money, though, is it?’ That sentence echoed in my head and my throat constricted. I had many precious things in Taxos that didn’t cost a penny. A sharp sheet of pain pressed on my chest, as Henrik’s offer of a luxury life condensed everything that did and didn’t matter. I could live without the latest beauty treatment or designer handbag, but not without true love, family and community spirit.

BOOK: My Big Fat Christmas Wedding
7.47Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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