Those Summer Nights (Corfu, Greek Island Romance) (21 page)

T
he large green
truck blocked the sea view and the pinkish hue of the sky as the sun descended to the west. Three men in overalls were currently walking through the restaurant carrying the last of the brand-new single beds destined for the upstairs space.

Harry was navigating them around the bends in the staircase as well as keeping an eye on Olivia and Tristan, who seemed to have gone hyper on bottled water alone.

‘It looks so different to how I imagined,’ Janie spoke.

Imogen then looked to the bright, white walls, the tables and chairs still currently bare but looking clean, the tiled floor showing only a layer of sand where the delivery men had walked. It was a miracle it looked this way considering how it had looked the day they had arrived. Her eyes moved to the patch of land next to the restaurant. She needed to ask Elpida if she knew who owned it. There was no time to lose strengthening Harry’s foothold on the seafront.

‘It’s on the verge of being beautiful,’ Janie continued. ‘Really beautiful.’

Imogen felt her body relax at Janie’s words and she smiled. ‘Yes,’ she answered. ‘It is.’

Janie picked up the glass and made to drink. Realising it was empty she put it down again. ‘I mean, as you know, my first thoughts were a bit “Greece, for God’s sake”. Greece! A place the BBC haven’t stopped going on about for months. Financial crisis, refugee crisis, hashtag Grexit…’

‘But then you thought
My Family and Other Animals
?’ Imogen offered.

‘What? Do you mean that scrawny cat I saw sitting outside?’

‘No.’ Imogen sighed. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘But then you started sending the photos,’ Janie said. ‘And I remembered.’

‘Remembered?’

‘Remembered all the gorgeous weeks Harry and I spent here.’ Janie lifted her face up to the sun, closing her eyes to the heat. ‘Sand, sea and souvlaki in pretty little tavernas just like this one. It was so relaxed, so utterly blissful.’ Another breath left her. ‘And then I had the children showing me emojis of prawns and all Harry’s excited talk and I didn’t really know what I was thinking. I think maybe I thought it would be the horror it was to begin with, but secretly I think I was hoping it was like this.’ Janie opened her eyes again. ‘I mean there aren’t any curtains… and the bathroom upstairs is far from Victoria Plumb, but…’

‘Well, we’ve been concentrating on the communal areas,’ Imogen jumped in. ‘The kitchen has been the priority and this main room of the restaurant. I’ve cleaned everything. I’ve made the upstairs as comfortable as possible and Harry has worked so hard, until late into the night. Then he’s got up early and started all over again despite some difficult circumstances.’

‘What difficult circumstances?’ Janie asked, leaning forward, her elbows on the table. ‘The language barrier? The fact Harry knows sod all about running a restaurant and is relying on you?’

‘Yes, and… a bit of talk about some of the other businesses along the beach being sold and redeveloped.’ She looked at Janie out of the corner of her eye, gauging her reaction.

‘Clarify “a bit” and quickly. Tristan said something about a nightclub and I thought it was sunstroke so I put a hat on him.’

Imogen immediately regretting going down this track. She should have kept quiet while Janie was being bewitched by the landscape and her memories.

‘One of the locals has designs on redeveloping the area next to the restaurant. Originally he wanted to buy Halloumi, but…’

‘What?! You had someone make an offer on the place and you didn’t bite his hand off like a famished alligator?’

Imogen let out a breath. ‘No… we didn’t.’

‘Why not? That would have been the perfect way out.’

‘Harry doesn’t want a way out. And you just said it’s evoking all these wonderful memories. That it’s beautiful,’ Imogen reminded.

‘Harry doesn’t really know what he wants,’ Janie protested. ‘It’s only this nice because you’re here guiding him.’

‘That’s where you’re wrong,’ Imogen said, sitting forward. ‘Harry knows exactly what he wants and what he wants is you, Janie, and the children.’ She watched for her sister-in-law’s reaction. ‘Here in Corfu.’

Janie didn’t immediately respond.

‘He misses you,’ Imogen said. ‘He’s told me all about your holidays to Corfu. How happy you were.’

The delivery men reappeared, waving their goodbyes as they headed back to the lorry.

‘It may be a lot better than I thought,’ Janie began. ‘But just because we holidayed here and it was lovely it doesn’t mean the restaurant is Harry’s destiny. Did you check his phone for horoscope apps? Because at one point he had five!’

‘Janie, please, just give Harry a chance,’ Imogen begged. ‘That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?’ She swallowed. ‘No one flies three hours with two children unless they really want something special at the end of it.’

She watched her sister-in-law’s features soften, then Olivia and Tristan came thundering out onto the terrace followed by Harry roaring like a lion.

‘What do you say we all go out and have some Greek dinner?’ Harry asked everyone. ‘Kids? Fancy more ice cream?’

Cheering erupted from the children and then a scream came from Janie.

‘What is it?!’ Janie stamped her feet. ‘It’s a snake, isn’t it? Get it off me!’

Imogen bent down and picked up the speckled kitten. ‘It’s just the cat, Janie.’

‘He’s so cute,’ Olivia said, bouncing up to Imogen and stroking the cat’s head, much to its delight.

‘Is he yours, Dad?’ Tristan asked.

‘Well, he certainly seems to have taken a liking to the place,’ Harry responded.

‘What’s his name?’ Olivia asked.

‘Socks,’ Harry announced.

‘What?’ Imogen asked. ‘You gave him a name.’

‘Short for Socrates. I thought Socks was very Greeklish.’ Harry grinned.

‘Hello, Socks. You’re a lovely boy, aren’t you?’ Olivia said, tickling the animal under its chin.

Imogen’s attention went back to Janie, who was looking more bewildered by the moment. With her free hand she rubbed the woman’s shoulder. ‘The red wine is a bit rustic but plentiful and Greeks do pork chops as big as Chris Hemsworth’s guns.’

Janie sniffed. ‘With chips?’

‘As many as you can eat,’ Imogen said, smiling. ‘But personally I’d have the Greek roast potatoes. They’re to die for.’

‘
I
t is so
nice to have another woman in my house again,’ Elpida announced, raising a glass of
retsina
in the air towards Rhea.

They were sitting outside the front of the house at the stone table, slightly in the shade of the oldest olive tree in the grounds. Lamplight and candlelight provided enough brightness to see and although the sun had now gone down, the humid warmth meant there was no need for covering up.

‘You have said this already,’ Panos stated. ‘Twice.’

‘Always so grumpy! Have another glass,’ Elpida suggested.

He watched Rhea smile and toy with the
stifado
his grandmother had made. There had been no time for explanation when he had pulled up to the house earlier with Rhea in the car. His grandmother, thigh-skimming floral frock on her body, had been clambering onto the back of Risto’s moped, a pile of linen in her arms. She had waved and strapped a helmet to her head and he was left alone in the strained atmosphere with Rhea.

He had given her the tour of the house to occupy the time, his patter like an estate agent, pointing out the advantages of two bathrooms and the panoramic views over the mountains. He’d looked out at the back garden and recollected his mother and father dancing in the moonlight as he, Elpida and Risto sang together and used sticks and pots as instruments, but he’d turned to Rhea and simply told her the number of fruit trees that grew there. He could tell she was still angry with him now, still hurting as they ate together, but there was nothing he could do to change that. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

‘Harry’s wife and his children are here,’ Elpida piped up, topping up Rhea’s glass.

Panos nodded. ‘I know.’

‘You know?’ Elpida quizzed.

‘I saw them,’ he continued under his grandmother’s inquisitive stare. ‘At the restaurant earlier.’

‘The man that owns the family restaurant now? This Boris?’ Rhea asked, picking up her wine glass.

‘Harry,’ Panos corrected.

‘I thought the woman you were with was his wife.’

‘The woman you were with…’ Elpida repeated.

‘I simply gave Imogen a ride to Arillas to purchase some items for the restaurant,’ Panos answered. Still Elpida stared at him, that all-seeing, all-knowing expression on her face as his temperature rose. He wasn’t thinking about the candles or the tablecloths they had purchased, he was remembering Imogen’s hair blowing in the breeze as they sat on the bench on the breakwater and how the saltwater tasted on her lips. He reached for his drink.

‘You went to Arillas,’ Elpida said. ‘It is their community market day today, no?’

‘Yes… she wanted to do the tourist thing. Look for a good deal. Drive a bargain.’ He smiled, regaining his composure.

‘So, she is not the man’s wife,’ Rhea said again, her eyes homing in on Panos.

‘No,’ Elpida said. ‘Imogen is Harry’s younger sister. A lovely girl. A little thin… not as thin as you but… well, both of you need to eat a little more.’ Elpida picked up the bread basket and held it to Rhea.

‘That was a compliment,’ Panos assured Rhea. ‘I got some beds for them.’

‘
You
bought the beds!’ Elpida exclaimed.

‘Yes,’ he replied.

‘Well, that was a very nice thing to do, Pano. Very community-minded.’

He shrugged his shoulders. ‘We do what we can.’

‘Yes, we do,’ Elpida agreed. ‘So, how long are you staying with us, Rhea? And what can you tell me about what this boy has been up to in Crete for all this time?’

‘
Yiayia
,’ Panos said, a note of warning in his tone.

Rhea smiled at Elpida and sat a little straighter in her chair, bracelets jangling as she moved. ‘It is OK, Pano, I can answer.’ She dropped her eyes briefly to her plate before matching the older woman’s gaze. ‘The truth is, I can tell you nothing,’ she said. ‘Because that is always exactly what Panos shares.’

Underneath the tablecloth, a cream linen affair with black-and-sage-coloured olives embroidered on it by Mrs Pelekas, Panos grimaced. He deserved that. He had treated Rhea badly even if he had never intended to. He should have stuck to one night, not pushed the boundaries to weeks. She had become involved and he hadn’t seen it. This was his penance.

Suddenly Elpida let out a laugh, her breath blowing out one of the candles in the centre of the table. ‘This is so true! This girl, Pano, she really knows you!’

He smiled, glad of the break in the tension, but deep down he knew Elpida couldn’t be further from the mark.

‘You must stay for the folklore show,’ Elpida stated, banging her fist on the stone table.

‘What?’ Panos exclaimed.

‘When is that?’ Rhea asked.

‘I am afraid Rhea has to go back to Crete very soon,’ Panos objected.

‘It is the day after tomorrow,’ Elpida steamed on. ‘Halloumi is going to have a stall. It is going to be a trial run of the recipes before the grand opening.’

‘
Yiayia
…’

‘It is a very special day in Acharavi. There are stalls and music and at night is the festival with dancing and fireworks and the sea with flaming boats… It really is something to see!’

‘I told you, it is sad but Rhea must leave,’ Panos insisted.

‘I do not
have
to leave,’ Rhea replied.

He lowered his voice. ‘We discussed this.’

‘No.
You
decided. Not me.’

Her brown eyes challenged him to contradict her. He should have paid for her to have a room in the village. Why had he brought her here, to Elpida’s home? Because of guilt?

He got up from his seat and made a grab for the bottle they’d been sharing. ‘I will get more wine.’

F
ifteen minutes
later he was still in the kitchen, his eyes on the moon-shaped clock above the range, the second hand ticking relentlessly but never really getting anywhere. He didn’t want to go back to the table. It would mean facing up to the situation, when what he really wanted to do was run. But run where? Back to Crete? To his office to sink himself into some sort of familiarity? To Imogen? He let out a breath, his mind filling with her scent, the sound of her laughter, the blue crystal of her eyes. Like the moon-faced clock it was as if time had stood still in Arillas that day, a small snapshot of harmony amidst everything else.

‘Have we run out of wine?’

Elpida’s voice had him making a grab for the tea towel and wiping his hands in an improvised action that was fooling no one.

‘No, I was just coming out.’ He put the tea towel down, picked up another bottle of wine and turned to his grandmother, a smile of confidence rapidly restored.

Elpida shifted right, blocking his way like a grand move in chess. He stepped to the left to get past and she repeated the action in the opposite direction, halting his progress again.

‘What are you doing?’ he asked, standing still in front of her.

‘What are
you
doing is more the question.’

Elpida had her eyes trained on him like an accomplished sniper staring down the sight of his weapon. There was no avoiding her unless he wanted to dance a
sirtaki
around her kitchen. Even then he suspected she would be far more adept than him. He put the bottle of wine down on the countertop.

‘Rhea is…’ Elpida said. She stopped and tilted her head as if expecting him to finish off the sentence.

He shook his head. ‘A friend.’

Elpida’s eyes widened, not accepting his response as a proper answer. ‘A friend,’ she repeated.

‘Someone I was just spending time with in Crete.’

‘Spending time with,’ Elpida repeated.

‘Will you stop doing that?’

‘Doing what?’

‘Just repeating everything I say.’ He threw his arms up rather like his grandmother did when she was frustrated by something. ‘What do you want me to say?’

‘I am trying to understand, that is all.’ Elpida continued to regard him closely. ‘Is she someone you are close to with your heart or just when your trousers are down around your ankles?’

‘
Yiayia!
’ he exclaimed.

‘What?! I have two children. I have an occasional date. I know how the world works in that department, whether you like it or not.’

‘I do not like it,’ Panos answered.

‘You have not answered the question,’ Elpida reminded. ‘Heart or trousers?’

His grandmother knew him too well. It was as clear cut as that. His heart had never been involved, with Rhea or anyone else. He wasn’t sure his heart worked in any way other than pumping the blood around his body.

‘Well?’ Elpida prompted.

‘I do not know why you are asking me this. She is going home tomorrow. Back to Crete.’

‘The girl cares for you, Pano,’ Elpida stated.

‘I know that!’ he blasted. ‘And I told her she should not.’

‘And Imogen?’

The mere mention of her name should not have his body reacting like someone had just injected him with a high dose of caffeine. But it did. Everything moved inside him. He shifted his feet, trying to control his emotions.

‘Now I see,’ Elpida concluded with a nod.

He swallowed, trying to maintain his stance. ‘Now you see what?’

She smiled. ‘It is quite simple really.’ She reached onto the counter for a packet of cigarettes. ‘Imogen is heart and Rhea is trousers.’

‘No,’ Panos jumped in quickly. ‘No one is heart.’

‘Pfft!’

‘I am telling you—’

‘No, Pano,
I
am telling
you
,’ she interrupted. ‘And I am telling you only two things now.’ She pulled a cigarette from the packet and rolled it between her thumb and forefinger. ‘You need to be respectful to this girl here. I have a feeling there was not a lot of respect shown in Crete, huh?’

He shook his head in disagreement, folding his arms across his chest.

‘And the second thing.’ She put the cigarette into her mouth, slipped a lighter from the pocket of her dress and flicked it into a flame. Sucking on the filter, she held the smoke in her mouth for a long moment before dispelling it into the air with a satisfied breath. ‘In life you can have many pairs of trousers, Pano… and they might not all fit like you wish them to.’ She took another drag before settling her eyes on him. ‘But you only have one heart.’ She nodded. ‘Remember that.’