My Big Fat Christmas Wedding (24 page)

‘Happy to oblige, my juicy little fig,’ whispered Niko and leant forward. My eyes closed as he kissed me and, heart thumping louder than ever, my hands tucked inside his jacket and undid his shirt buttons. Momentarily, I broke away. ‘I’ve missed you, so much,’ I said and slipped my hands through the gap in his shirt. Such smooth skin. Such warmth. I could hardly think as our lips met again. It was as if Niko was a creamy, inviting bar of chocolate and at this precise moment I’d just broken a diet.

‘Oh Pippa.’ He pulled the bobble out of my pony tail and his fingers caressed my hair. He nuzzled just below my ear, then trailed kisses down the side of my neck. All my nerve-endings sparked and my arms slid around his head. Breathless. Flushed. Happy. My heart beat to the name Ni…ko, Ni…ko.

‘Oi! You two! Get a broom!’ called Cousin Stefan and dropped his cigarette to stub it out.

Through laughter, we broke apart.

You mean “room”,’ I mumbled, cheeks hotter than ever.

Niko winked and swept back hair from my face. ‘Come. Let’s get ready for our wedding day. And my last secret ever, Pippa, I shall tell you after the ceremony… You trust me? Can wait that long?’

I answered him with another kiss.

Chapter Nineteen

I like to think of myself as a good friend. Loyal. Reliable. Someone who delivers. So there is
no way
I would finish telling you my story without inviting you to the wedding! Humming loudly, I’d hurried back to the villa, after Niko and I made up, wondering what his secret could be. The sun shone (at least it was trying to. I turned a blind eye to the England-like drizzle which turned my hair to candyfloss). Mum was waiting with champagne and, along with Pandora, helped me to tame my curls and climb into the dress, without ripping Pandora’s intricate lace-work.

In fact, Mum actually shed a tear, before giving me a tight hug. In return, I said I loved her and offered reassurance that her hat really didn’t make her nose look big. Dad came across to the villa a while later, having helped Niko’s family set out crockery and cutlery for the wedding feast. Mum and I suspected he’d also imbibed a couple of ouzos. Then he got changed into a three-piece suit, his purple tie matching her hat. His last few minutes at the villa were spent pacing around the lounge, trying to memorise his father of the bride speech.

As I adjusted the top of my wedding dress outside the church, I felt the Syrian charm move in my cleavage. I shook myself. Could this be true? I was marrying the man of my dreams? Fulfilling my ambition as a scone-maker? Still making use of my business acumen? Plus I was to spend my life amongst some of the most genuine, kind-hearted people in the world, on an island that yes, had troubles, but could always rely on its fruitful waters and cheerful weather.

Okay, perhaps I was waxing just a little lyrical, but the Greek scenery had a way of bringing out the rhapsodical side of me. I turned around and gazed out to sea. The drizzle had stopped and now winter evening clouds moved in. Uncle Christos had driven me to the church, with Pandora and my parents. Mum had already gone in. Pandora made some last-minute adjustments to my hair. Then I lifted off my shoe to show her what I’d written and her face blushed.

On the bottom I’d scrawled “Pandora”, “Olivia” and “Sarah”. It was a Greek tradition for the bride to write down the names of single friends on her shoes’ soles, for romantic good fortune. I figured Olivia could do with some good luck after Henrik, and Sarah was a recently divorced friend from university. I’d invited her to the wedding but, as I’d discovered, the festive period abroad was difficult for many people. Her father was ill and without saying it, she’d hinted this could be their last Christmas together.

‘Pippa!’ said Pandora in a stern voice and shook a finger.

I grinned, recognising the humour in those warm eyes. You see, the names worn off by the end of the evening would supposedly marry soon. I wasn’t sure about whether to write Pandora’s – she still loved her late husband dearly. But as Christmas had approached, I’d heard her mention a couple of times that this time of year was something to be shared with partners. I got the feeling that she was ready to meet someone new.

She hugged me and held out a gold coin. ‘Slip this in your shoe for good luck.’

I did and then reached into my cleavage and pulled out the Syrian open hand.

Pandora nodded. ‘Excellent, Pippa – us Greeks approve of the carrying of evil eye symbols, especially at weddings, to ward off misfortune.’

I sneaked forward and peeked into the dome-shaped building. Of course, I’d visited this grand building several times before, to be baptised by the priest so that I could officially get married here. Plus I’d attended services and, within the last week, called in one evening to sit and contemplate my future. Yet the extravagant decor never ceased to amaze me. From the outside it just looked like another white and blue part of the village’s landscape, but inside…goodness. Such glossy mahogany pews and the resplendent altar shone gold. As for the religious figures painted onto the ceiling and into the dome…it was the one part of the village that revealed no hint of an economic downturn.

What’s more, this afternoon, it was even more special than ever, with friends and family in smart outfits cheered up further with colourful buttonholes. Grandma had excelled herself with the floral pew decorations – I loved the almond blossom and Irises. And oh…a lump rose in my throat and I gave a vigorous wave. There was my good friend Trudy. I’d so been looking forward to seeing her. She gave me the thumbs up. Meet the ultimate bridezilla. Trudy got married last year and obsessed over every detail for many months previously. She’d only given birth five weeks ago and wasn’t sure she could make the trip to Taxos, so we’d agreed that I shouldn’t get my hopes up. But in the end, she and her husband booked a last minute hotel in Kos Town and left the baby with grandparents. I only heard just before leaving for the church. Typically, Trudy had wanted to surprise me.

‘Naughty girl. No spying on Niko until we go in,’ said Pandora, looking gorgeous in a floor-length dress to match the blue iris decorations.

I turned around. ‘No, I was waving at my good friend Trudy!’ I pulled a face. ‘I hope Niko’s face isn’t cut to shreds.’

We laughed but Dad shrugged.

‘In Greece, Dad, the best man – the
koumbaros
– helps to dress the groom on the day of the wedding and shaves him. Niko was a bit worried that fellow sailor, Cousin Stefan, would slice him as if filleting a fish.’

At that moment the priest came out, wearing his robes and big gold cross. He raised an eyebrow at me. I looked at Dad who winked then we both gazed back at the priest.

‘You look a picture, darling,’ whispered Dad as the priest turned to lead us in and Pandora straightened the back of my dress. I hadn’t wanted a train but there was some lace detail down the back my seamstress friend had been keen to weave in, so that the dress still looked special when I stood at the front of the congregation.

I squeezed Dad’s arm and we entered the church. Everyone got to their feet. The fragrance of almond blossom filled the air. My heart raced. The best thing about this moment? I had absolutely no doubts. Just seeing the friendly faces of the villagers made me realise I’d found
my
spot on earth. I grinned at little Theo Dellis, a now sober Postie’s wife, and Demetrios in a jolly spotted cravat. Next to him was Cosmo who blew me a kiss, his harmonica sticking out of his jacket top pocket. And…oh. My chest glowed. Fantastic. Mrs Manos had brought her whole family, including Maria and her grandson.

And then, for a second I felt dizzy as Niko came into view, holding my bouquet for me, as was tradition. Sharp as a butcher’s knife in a suit, he looked as sexy as liquid chocolate laced with edible gold. Our eyes locked. My breath quickened as I realised my future would be spent with a man whose sense of family knew no bounds; whose sensitivity and physical strength meant I would always be safe; whose touch meant I would always be irretrievably his.

I shook myself as I reached him. Mustn’t be sentimental otherwise the mascara I borrowed from Pandora would run. I sniffed, longing to feel his arms wrap around me. Instead I took the bouquet, and revelled in the physical zing I felt as our fingers touched.

Hands up, at this point I really could become a wedding bore. Let me just say that I will never, during the whole of my life, forget a second of the next hour. How we wore crowns, connected by ribbon, which were swapped over our heads. How we both drank wine from the Common Cup. The detail of rings being exchanged and the priest’s various prayers. And all of this tradition accompanied by sniffing in the congregation – my bet was on Sophia. Plus the atmosphere was just magical, with the sky outside darker by the minute. But best of all was the reassuring presence of Niko standing next to me; the sense that now our very different lifestyles, backgrounds and personalities had slotted together like some intricate jigsaw.

‘And now it’s time to party, Pippikins!’ said Trudy, back at the Taxos Taverna. ‘I’ve hardly been out since the baby.’

‘Pippikins? I like it,’ murmured Niko in my ear, as she headed to the buffet table.

I slipped my arm around his waist. ‘And did I really hear your second aunt call you Nikobooboo?’

We laughed, before keen guests took our attention and I had no chance to quiz Niko about his last ever secret. Little Theo handed me a present wrapped up in gold tissue paper. I opened it and my eyes blurred for a second.

‘He made it in school craft class, especially,’ said his mum and cleared her throat. ‘But no problem at all if you already have a handkerchief.’

That probably means nothing to you, but you see, in Greece, there’s a special handkerchief dance at the wedding breakfast, begun by the bride and groom. I stared at the square of white cloth, with big loop blue stitching all the way around. In the top right hand corner was the letter N. In the bottom left a P. And in the middle, not so neat brown cross-stitching in the shape of an almond – apparently this represented the endurance of a marriage and its sweetness.

I barely had time to thank Theo before Niko and I were swept away. Music rang out. Handkerchiefs waved. Feet pounded. I drank ouzo, ate spinach cake and special honey and quince cake to secure mine and Niko’s future. I kissed a gazillion new relatives. Cooed over Trudy’s baby pictures and laughed about childhood holidays here with my parents. I even danced with Cleo and Yanis came over for a brief chat. He’d found out who owned the disused boat shed – a retired fisherman, who seemed keen to sell. Plus the butcher already had ideas on how to do it up and a plan for patrolling the intended nesting area. I couldn’t wait to hear more, but he was abruptly hushed by a grinning Maria and told to let me enjoy my wedding, without talk of business.

‘My little peach. You and Niko have made me very happy today.’

An arm slid through mine. Grandma. My confidante. My friend – and now my family.

‘At one point, I wasn’t sure you two youngsters would find your way.’

I reached into my cleavage and pulled out the Syrian charm. Grandma held out her hand. Studied it. Her face lit up.

‘Where did this come from?’

I told her about the Syrian couple.

‘And that explains my last coffee reading for Niko – remember what I told you?’

I thought for a moment. ‘Yes. “A foreigner’s luck would make sure he put down roots with an old friend.”’

‘The sediment never lies.’ Eyes glistening, she handed back the charm and we hugged.

Later that night – or rather early the next morning – as we sat on the shore just like old times, Niko and I held hands and contemplated love, life and luck before heading back to a room booked for us in the Vesteros’ hotel.

‘And now I tell you my last secret ever. The reason I’ve been spending time with Cleo lately. That house we were looking at yesterday, with the turquoise shutters and steps up the side…’ He took a deep breath. ‘Cleo has got us a good deal. Once I began to mention that I might have been rash to call off the wedding, she suggested that you and me having our own place would be a fresh start; said she could tell as soon as she’d arrived, that I was always going to marry you.’ He grinned. ‘Yet despite her usual…assertive nature, she’d held back from saying anything and just let me work it out for myself.’

I bit my lip. How I’d misjudged Cleo. Tomorrow I would have to thank her.

‘It’s ours to rent, from next week, if we want.’

‘But…really…gosh…oh Niko…’ My vision blurred. No wonder he’d always looked so excited when talking of meeting up with Cleo. And this explained his weird expression when I’d talked of us moving out of his parents’ place – he’d been thinking the same and hadn’t wanted his secret discovered until it was definite. ‘It’s an adorable house – I love it. Would…would you agree to taking the deposit from my savings? Even with sales during the fair this week, I’m not sure we’ve enough money to cover it otherwise. Not with the costs of the wedding and Christmas.’

He placed his hands on my shoulders. ‘Yes. Like I said earlier, I’ve been stubborn in the past about your money. Still don’t want to rely on it for everyday reasons, but I’m okay with using it to secure this house…our independence…our future.’ He sat up. ‘Although – if you agree – our earnings cover the weekly rent, yes? It’ll mean cutting back, but—’

I threw my arms around his neck. We were to move in next week. Finally me and my man truly seemed to have met in the middle.

‘Happy?’ he said.

‘More than ever. I can’t wait to look around the inside of our new home. You?’

‘Not really. There is something very important we haven’t done for a long time and I’m worried you’ve forgotten how much it meant.’

‘Oh?’ My brow furrowed.

‘Lie on your back.’

‘Niko!’

‘Now!’

Returning his grin, I lay down on the sand. Niko leant right over me. I held my breath as his nose nudged mine. Electrical sensations darted down my spine. Our lips only millimetres apart, his eyelashes batted gently against mine.

‘Butterfly kisses,’ he murmured. ‘Let us never forget them. It’s the little things that matter, no? How they used to make you giggle, when we were younger.’