Authors: Samantha Tonge
‘I’ve had doubts for a while, and Taxos has given me some perspective. The last few days away from you has given me space to think.’
Henrik stared at the box. ‘Have I done something wrong? Because I can work on it….’ He took my hand and turned to face me. ‘Pips – us…. I thought things were going great? We’re the ideal couple, aren’t we? Can’t you picture the amazing penthouse we’ll own one day, on the Thames, and our kids in posh straw hats and blazers as we wave them off for an amazing term at a top school? Us both promoted at work? The fantastic holidays we’ll take in the Caribbean?’
My eyes felt wet. ‘No…’ I whispered. ‘I don’t need all that. Mum and Dad sent me to boarding school whereas all I wanted was a normal life, like Georgios and Sophia gave Niko…’
Henrik let go of my hand and snorted. ‘Has this got anything to do with that deadbeat jerk? Because he wouldn’t make you happy. Living in a village on a sunny island… as the recession has proved, that’s just an unhappy dream based on a place where, in reality, rioters burn down banks and no one can afford to pay their tax.’
‘Look, Henrik… Niko is engaged to Leila anyway and…’
‘
Anyway
? That makes it sound as if you’d consider him otherwise.’ Henrik stood up, the high stool scraping the floor. ‘Niko has no life-plan. And I’ve seen the way he’s drooled over you, ever since we’ve arrived.
‘Drooled?’
Henrik snorted. ‘Yes – despite having a fiancée who deserves more respect.’ He curled a fist. ‘The man’s an imbecile, sticking around in this dusty dump all this time, ignoring the question of how he’d properly provide for a wife and kids. Where’s his ambition? His discipline? His work ethic?’ Henrik shook his head. ‘Whatever feelings you think you’ve got for him is based on the stuff of teenage fairy tales and belongs in one of those bloody silly romance books you read. For goodness’ sake, Pippa, grow up.’
Ouch. ‘I’d say he and his cousin work damn hard, fishing and sponge-diving every day.’
Henrik snorted again. ‘Apart from in the winter, when they no doubt lounge around drinking retsina and playing cards…’ He threw his arms in the air. ‘Can’t you see that intellectually he’d bore you within a week?’
My cheeks felt hot – he’d used the very argument I made up to put off Niko. But it wasn’t true. I could spend a lifetime talking to Niko about the things that mattered, like family, friends, fishing, baking…
Henrik snatched the ring from the table and marched back to the bedroom. In a puff of aftershave, he came back into the kitchen minutes later, and poured himself a juice.
‘Look, don’t go like this…’ I put my hand on his arm, now dressed in a sharp suit, but he shook it off.
‘You’re no better than my father,’ he snarled. ‘He led Mum on for years. Apparently he’d never loved her, but “made do with second best.”
‘I’m nothing like him!’
‘Have you been stringing me along all this time? Don’t you love me?’ he said, in a high pitch. ‘You’d throw everything away for some girlish dream of a holiday romance?’
Wow. Finally Henrik showed a bit of passion. My legs wobbled. He deserved the truth and a proper reason for ending our relationship, but I didn’t want to deepen the bruise to his ego. How could I spell out that sometimes, kissing him, I felt like a gadget carrying out some pre-programmed task expected of me?
I shook my head. ‘Look, things between you and me… they haven’t felt right for a while. Not for a lifelong commitment. But of course I thought I loved you in the beginning – I would have never moved in with you, otherwise.’
A muscle flinched in his cheek, as he strode over to the sofa and picked up his briefcase.
‘Perhaps we should see what Leila makes of all this?’ he spat before heading towards the front door. ‘Has she any idea of how her new friend Pippa feels about her fiancé?’
‘No, Henrik! Don’t!’ I frantically called and hurried after him.
Grandma… Sorry to tell you this, but it’s best that I break the news: Henrik believes I have really strong feelings for Niko. He told Leila who got upset and has fled abroad. The wedding is off.
The old woman clutched her heart, face pale, lips wobbling, and fell to the ground…
I shuddered, not even liking to imagine that fictional scene (yes, of course, I made it up – clue? I wouldn’t dare refer to feisty Iris as an
old
woman).
With a sigh, I piled scones on to cake plates and covered them with domed glass lids. After leaving the villa early, shortly after furious Henrik, I’d headed straight for Pippa’s Pantry (LOVED saying that). The fresh cedar pine smell of the woods had helped clear my head, plus baking batches of olive and halloumi, lemon and cream cheese, and honey and fig scones slowed down my heartbeat, and smoothed out my brow. How good it felt – kind of safe – to rub butter into flour and then knead the dough. Plus cooking kept me busy until Niko got back. As usual, he’d gone fishing with his cousin, before he’d return and we’d take out a group of four tourists who’d booked in yesterday afternoon.
‘
Ya sou
, my little peach – can I help?’ said Grandma and she came into the room wearing a red, orange and gold-trimmed blouse.
‘Wow – you look beautiful!’
Cue her gap-toothed smile. ‘
Efharisto
, Pippa. I feel good – stronger than I have for a while. Which means…’ Grandma came over to me, took my arm and sat me down at one of the small, round mahogany tables. The room smelt of bleach. Sophia had already mopped away any overnight dust before I arrived this morning.
‘…you can tell me, what is the problem? You are sad, no?’ Her fingers stayed curled around my arm. ‘Although you look a tiny bit more relaxed than when you first arrived a couple of hours ago.’
I’m fine,’ I said brightly. ‘Just tired – I didn’t sleep well.’
Grandma made a kind of “tsk” sound and lifted her hand to shake her finger.
‘Pippa! Not you, please! I sick of people tip-toeing around me as if I a cracked plate that is about to shatter. This last week or two I feel much stronger. Now come on – tell me. Or I shall fret.’
I wiped my hands across my apron and put my elbow on the table. Resting my chin in my hands, I looked at her. I couldn’t tell her about my fairy dust feelings for Niko, nor my suspicions about Leila wanting to travel abroad.
‘It’s me and Henrik. That’s all. We’ve split up.’
‘Ah…’ Grandma nodded her head and ran her hand over my ponytail. ‘Poor little peach – how that must hurt. But is for the best – I can tell.’
I sat upright and raised my eyebrows.
‘Ever since you two arrived and I’ve seen you together…’ Grandma shrugged. ‘Something hasn’t been right.’
‘What? How did you know?’
Grandma fiddled with her wedding ring. ‘From the first day I met my husband, the whole world seemed different – like… like a diamond that had been polished and suddenly flashed light. My mama would laugh – could always tell when I’d met him, because she said my eyes would twinkle like waves reflecting the sun or stars lighting up the sky; like frost glittering on tree branches, or the wings of fireflies… But in you, I no see that twinkle, when you’re with Henrik – and that twinkle is essential, to keep the love alive.’
A lump rose in my throat – trust Grandma to notice that. Had she observed anything strange about Niko or Leila, as well?
‘Pippa?’ called a male voice and I jumped up to pull off my apron. Grandma looked up and an odd expression crossed her face, before she smiled. Niko slouched into the room and pointed at his watch. ‘We must grab a quick lunch – I’ve already made it,’ he said, in a flat voice, whilst walking over to plant a kiss on Iris’ cheek. ‘You really don’t need to come on the trip though, Pippa. We haven’t much time. The passengers will meet me on the beach at two.’
‘Of course she must go. For moral support,’ said Grandma.
‘Yes, of course,’ I said weakly, not wanting Grandma to suspect anything was wrong. ‘Do you know anything about today’s passengers?’
‘Like yesterday, all English young men. But they sounded keen to catch fish, and this time I warned them my business is new and explained about our plan to save Taxos.’ He shrugged. ‘Perhaps I should have explained to those men yesterday.’
‘Sounds like it wouldn’t have made a difference – so what did they say?’
‘They aren’t concerned and wished us well with our goal.’
‘At least not all visitors are trouble-makers.’
‘Only little peaches,’ said Grandma and I forced a laugh, ignoring Niko’s expression which suggested Iris was absolutely right.
‘Grandma seems better every day,’ I said and sat down opposite Niko, in the taverna, warm rays from the sun hitting my back, from the open patio doors.
Niko just grunted, so with a sigh, I turned to my plate. A smile crossed my face as my eyes feasted on the food and I breathed in… Whatever Henrik thought, sometimes nothing beat the simple things in life, like this feast made up of pitta bread, mozzarella cheese and tomato salad, shiny black olives and a bowl of creamy hummus. God, it felt good to be back in Greece.
When we’d finished, having exchanged not one word, I fetched two honey and fig scones, then halved and spread them with creamy Greek yogurt. My hand brushed his as I put down his plate. Blood filled his cheeks. Tingles ran up my arm. Abruptly he pulled away his arm. Sophia brought over two coffees and ordered Niko to change his clothes, before meeting the tourists. I applied sun cream to my face, arms and legs, plus borrowed a cap from Georgios, in case my sunhat flew off into the sea-breeze. I wore my sunglasses and took a rucksack filled with six water bottles for us and the passengers. Niko and I headed down to the beach, leaving the rest of his family to man the taverna and teashop. He carried a big bag, containing six handlines and, lures, whatever they were, along with an icebox to bring back the catch.
‘Is everyone in the village coming to the beach barbecue tonight, that we all talked about on Saturday, to discuss the progress we’ve made?’ I said, giving conversation another attempt.
‘Yes – my guests’ barbecue will finish around seven – the villagers will arrive after that. Cosmo, Demetrios, Pandora, the Dellis’… Lots of people I’ve spoken to will be coming, plus they’ve invited friends from other towns – so Mama will pass around the petition.’
‘How are we catering for everyone?’
‘Cousin Stefan and I did well this morning – a lot of fish is on ice. Everyone knows to bring their own meat and each household will pack a salad and drinks. Pandora is bringing bread from her bakery and between us we should have enough grill plates.’ We walked onto the sand. ‘It reminds me of the big barbecues we used to have to celebrate Easter – lots of lamb chops and ouzo and dancing… before times got hard.’
I squeezed his arm but he shook it off.
‘Niko, please… don’t be like this. Let’s try to enjoy the days I’ve got left.’
He glared at me. ‘How? I am not clever enough for you? And apologies in advance – I realise this fishing trip will be very boring for an intellectual like you.’
I opened my mouth but what could I say in my defence? I shut it again, praying the afternoon would go by at top speed. If I was him, I’d feel exactly the same.
He stopped by his boat and we stepped into it. Niko showed me a handline and how you fitted it with a weight and “lure” – the lure was the pretty, feathery thing you tied on the end, which caused noise and bubbles to attract fish. Niko explained why the length of the line was important, and the speed of the boat. He’d also packed pairs of heavy duty gloves for people to handle the fish and line when they pulled in the catch – plus a bottle of
Tsipouro
, a strong Greek brandy.
‘I wouldn’t have thought that was the best drink, out on a boat, in the hot afternoon sun,’ I said.
He unscrewed the lid and let me smell. Ew. I pulled a face.
‘You’re in luck, then – it isn’t for the humans.’ He screwed the lid back on. ‘When catching single, big fish the kindest way to kill them is to pour a little alcohol into the gills. They pass out and the brain dies.’
Phew! I never enjoyed watching fish slowly suffocate to death. In fact the first question one of the men asked, when they boarded, was if he could throw his catch back.
As the motor chugged and we headed out to sea, I was impressed with Niko’s spiel. He insisted we all wore lifejackets and squinting in the sun, he described how to avoid the most common accidents. Passengers were to keep seated at all times. He also asked if anyone couldn’t swim, so he’d know who to look out for if we overturned. Plus he listed a few tips on how to cope with sea-sickness, including heading for the stern of the boat, and keeping low where there is the least movement.
‘That’s beautiful!’ I said, pulling down my cap, as one of the beaming men, in Hawaiian shorts, pulled a large fish onto the boat. It had yellow and green stripes – the next was red and white, caught by the passenger who wanted to throw his back. So, wearing gloves, Niko gently removed the hook and obliged. My chest burned when I thought how Henrik had genuinely implied Niko was stupid. My Greek friend made the handline fishing look easy, but having talked me through it, I knew just how much of the detail Niko had prepared. And indeed, during the two hour journey, we caught two grey mullets, three sea bream and one sea bass. The passengers were thrilled and with each success cheered and punched the air.
At one point, a wave made me slip and fall backwards against Niko. His hands grabbed my shoulders and he steadied me until the water calmed down. Slowly his fingers ran down my arms and held me firmly by my waist. My pulse sped up and a sudden thirst dried my throat. When I finally gained my balance, I removed his hands with mine and turned around.
‘Thank you,’ I muttered, feeling breathless.
‘Just doing my job,’ he replied, mocha eyes intense, blood in his cheeks. For a second his hands held mine back and then abruptly, he bent down and showed us how to pour alcohol into the gills and afterwards I placed the fish in the ice box. Later, whilst Niko drove, I was happy to take photos of the beginner fishermen, with their mobile phones, and handed out water bottles. Glad to have brought my sun lotion, I reapplied another layer, and passed it to one of the men who’d fallen asleep on the beach the day before.