Game of Scones (23 page)

Niko half-smiled. ‘Don’t tell me – any leftover scones.’

Quickly we headed down the high street, past the taverna and onto the crowded beach. Families stood in their pyjamas, holding torches, whilst – I should have known – Sophia and Grandma were already dealing with the refreshments. Pandora had also fetched a basket of cakes. Plus a farmer filled numerous takeaway granita cups with his strong homemade wine. Niko went straight to Leila, who was sitting the sand, telling a story to a group of children. He pulled her up and held her tight. She kissed him on the cheek and a stab of pain pierced my chest. Silly really. I’d be gone soon. Niko and exotic Leila belonged together – perhaps he’d go travelling with her.

With a shake, I walked through the crowd, trying to block out the stink of smoke from my clothes, and told those with good English what had happened at the Vesteros’ hotel – how the fire had spread; how Henrik had been a hero. After what seemed like hours, the chief fireman turned up at the beach, along with a police officer who spoke for several minutes in Greek.

‘What did he say?’ I asked as mouths downturned and people started to leave.

‘The police have set up temporary beds in the town hall, for those of you who cannot return to their houses tonight,’ said Niko, in quiet tones.

‘The fire officers have contained the flames – the smoke was worse than the fire, apparently,’ said Leila, voice flat. ‘The Vesteros’ hotel bore the brunt of the damage.’

‘But the worst thing, now…’ Pandora’s voice broke. ‘An investigation into the fire and clear up of fallen trees means that tourists will not be allowed near Taxos for several days.’

‘Our bookings..?’ said Demetrios.

Pandora nodded.

‘Our efforts to turn this village around without ThinkBig…? Sophia collecting signatures for the petition from other villages…?’ I mumbled. I stared at the others. They stared back.

‘With emergency services tape everywhere and certain areas cordoned off, it will be almost impossible to offer a lot of services advertised in our tourist leaflet, whilst the police and emergency services carry out their duties,’ said Sophia.

Cosmo sighed. ‘Then we have lost. Thanks to Mother Earth, Stavros has won.’

Chapter Twenty

Whilst I might blame Mother Earth, or Mother Nature, for some things – like my propensity to lose weight from my breasts, not my thighs – yesterday’s fire wasn’t her fault. And once the dust – or rather ash – had settled, new flames, made from raging anger, sprang up inside my chest. Yes, I’d felt sorry for Stavros yesterday and was relieved and happy to see him safe. However, overnight I felt bile shoot up my throat at the thought that corruption had come out on top. I started obsessing about seeing him locked up in jail with his ponytailed friend.

The police hadn’t come over to the taverna to take statements, yet, but when they did, I’d decided to give them a full description and say what I suspected about Stavros’ involvement.

Not quite sure what to do until then, I sat in Pippa’s Pantry. A lump formed in my throat. My teashop dream was now over, although, in a bit of a daze, I’d still put up the “Open” sign and dusted down the tables.

I’d slept over at the taverna again as the way out of Taxos was blocked. Firsthand, I experienced the subdued mood of the Sotiropoulos family, when we got up for breakfast. No one talked of boat trips or birdwatching walks and as if on automatic Georgios mopped the floor whilst Sophia got ready for church.

The door opened and I looked up to see… Blimey, I must have been obsessing over the mayor, because this man looked just like a slimline version of Stavros. He had the same beady eyes and crooked nose. Before I could shoosh him away, he sat down at one of the tables and picked up a menu.

‘Sorry… we’re not doing business today,’ I said. What was the point? The village’s hopes had been shattered.

‘The sign – it say “Open”.’ He pointed to the door. ‘And I’ve come all the way from Kos Town to sample these scones.’

Hoping to put him off, I frowned.

‘So I try one savoury and one sweet, no? They all sound delicious.’

Still worn out after last night, I shrugged, not in the mood for an argument or chit-chat to find out how he’d heard of my baking. I went into the kitchen, to see what scones we had left. My head cleared for a few minutes, as I filled a roasted pepper one with feta cheese, and a cherry scone with a generous dollop of almond flavoured yogurt.

‘Coffee?’ I said and put the plates down in front of him.

He nodded and bit first into the roast pepper dough. He closed his eyes. By the time I’d brought through his drink, both scones had gone.

‘Super,’ he said and wiped his mouth with a napkin. ‘Tell me… do scones keep well?’

Was he a fellow baker? Perhaps he wanted to steal my idea for a Greek teashop. Inwardly I thought, so what? Good luck to him, because my plans were going nowhere now.

I indicated to the seat opposite him and he nodded for me to sit down.

‘Yes – they’ll keep for one or two days in your pantry. A week in the fridge. A couple of month in the freezer. Obviously, don’t halve them until the last minute and make sure your fillings are fresh.’

‘How you get them to rise so well?’ he said and took a sip of coffee.

‘Keep the butter cold, during the mixing process.’

‘And the dough so light?’

‘Don’t use too much milk.’

He took another sip and to break the silence I asked his line of business.

‘I run a large chain of coffee and ice cream bars.’

‘Not Creami-Kos, by any chance?’ I said, that being the only one I’d heard of.

‘As it so happens, yes.’

‘Wow. Congratulations.’ They’d been going for years. For a treat, my parents would take Niko and me into the island’s capital for one of their tropical fruit sundaes with all the trimmings. ‘So, what brings you to Taxos?’ I said, curious now. ‘Surely not just my baking.’

He drained his cup and held out his hand. ‘My name is Orion Lakis.’

Lakis. Where had I heard that name before… I gasped. ‘Talk about a family resemblance, I knew it! You are Stavros Lakis’ brother.’

He smiled.

My eyes narrowed. ‘So what are you doing here? In fact, I’m not interested. Get out. No one related to that monster is welcome in Taxos.’

‘Sorry. No can do. Stavros wants to see you. In Kos Town. Right now.’

I snorted. ‘He’s not royalty and I’m not some subject he can summon to his imagined court. And how did you get into Taxos, all the roads are blocked?’

‘Being the mayor’s brother opens many avenues.’

‘I bet it does!’ I stood up. Well if he wouldn’t leave, that left me no choice, and before he could say one word more, I tore off my apron and swished out of the shop. A walk on the beach would help, all that salty air in my lungs, the squawk of seabirds in my ears, the breeze blowing against my face… And I was just a few metres from the sand when a flash silver car drove up, cut in front of me and stopped. Someone jumped out and yanked open the passenger door.

‘Get in, Pippa,’ said Orion.

Huh? I backed away, but he clasped my arm. Yet his grip was gentle and his tone softened.

‘Look… I know my brother… It must be hard to have faith in the Lakis family name, but trust me, seeing Stavros today, it is for the advantage of you and Taxos. He is waiting for you and Henrik at the Flamingo Inn.’

‘Henrik?’

‘Yes.’ Orion let go of me. ‘We pick him up on the way back. Last night he slept in the town hall. I can drop you both at the villa. You change, then we head into Kos Town together.’

‘What sort of advantage?’

Orion simply raised his eyebrows.

I stared inside the car and spotted no rope, machete nor gun. Okay, that was a good start.

‘For the benefit of Taxos, you say?’

He nodded and looked me straight in the face without the air of shiftiness his brother seemed to carry around.

I bit my lip. Nodded. Climbed into the passenger seat. Orion shut the door and went around to the other side. He got in.

‘You like Barry Manilow?’ he said and turned on the engine.

Copacabana? The knot in my stomach unfurled. That was hardly the music choice of an axe murderer.

Although I wasn’t sure, as having heard that song almost twenty times by the time we got to Kos Town and parked, I was ready to wield an axe myself. As promised, Orion had picked up Henrik. We’d freshened up and both changed clothes in the villa. It was just as well Henrik hadn’t taken all his belongings to the Vesteros’ hotel. He had no idea what the meeting was about. His burned hand was dressed in bandages, so I helped him button up his shirt.

‘So, the villagers’ plans to save Taxos are now in ruins?’ he said, as we both sat in the back of Orion’s car.

‘I wouldn’t say that, but, well… Understandably despondency has set in. If tourists can’t access the village, their chances of promoting new ventures are stumped.’ I shrugged. ‘How does it feel to have won?’

‘Pippa, please – this is work.’

‘And that means everything to you?’

His brow furrowed. ‘Yes. I thought you felt the same.’

‘Me too.’ I glanced out of the window. Who would have thought that a couple of weeks in Taxos would change my perspective – or rather, bring my true perspective to the fore? It had given me a taste of a life I once dreamed of, living within a community where the postman knew everyone’s business and feisty grandmas called the shots… Where someone complimenting a scone felt as good as closing a business deal… where a walk along the beach soothed the soul much more than an hour of Candy Crush. Life felt real in Taxos, unlike back in London where most of my time was spent in front of a screen, either professionally at the office or for “fun” at home.

‘Stavros started it, you know – the fire,’ I said to Henrik, in a low voice, and told him about the man in the balaclava.

His jaw fell open. ‘Well, if he did, I can assure you that ThinkBig and I had nothing to do with it.’

‘Never thought you did – what I don’t understand, though, is why would he go that far?’

Henrik thought for a moment. ‘He did mention something in passing – said a villager was friendly with the tax office and might report him for offering those tax breaks. That news unsettled him. I think he wanted villagers to sign on the dotted line as soon as possible.’

Ah yes – the arsonist spying at the meeting and hearing about Mr Dellis’ diligent tax man friend.

‘But that fire could have killed someone.’ Again that anger built within me and was ready to erupt by the time we sat down at Stavros’ table, in a discreet corner of the busy Flamingo Inn. Orion fetched four ouzos whilst Stavros stood up to greet us, then sat down again, wearing his signature black suit and white shirt.

‘Cheers.’ He raised his glass.

‘What are we celebrating?’ I said, in a measured voice.

Stavros’ cheeks flushed. ‘Pippa… last night…’

‘You weren’t kept in hospital, then?’ said Henrik.

‘No. Thanks to you, my friends…’

‘I’m not your friend,’ I snapped. ‘Believe me, organising arson isn’t an appealing trait.’

‘Shh! Be careful what you say,’ said Stavros and looked around. ‘You have no evidence.’

‘No? That man you were talking to on the beach, with the ponytail… He turned up at one of the villagers’ meetings. I saw him last night, wearing a balaclava, before he ran away.’

Stavros sipped his drink. ‘I don’t know what you talking about. And if such a man existed, he could be anywhere in Greece – anywhere in Europe by now.’

I threw my hands in the air. ‘But I don’t get it, Stavros, why a fire?’

Ooh. His eyes looked all wet and a kind of sheepish look crossed his face. Stavros cleared his throat. ‘If anyone arranged such a fire, I can only think they had heard of the villagers’ new business plans and thought perhaps… just perhaps thought there was a chance they could make things difficult if any sort of appeal to the council was put forward. That possibility needed to be removed.’

‘Bravo, mission accomplished,’ I muttered.

Stavros’ voice broke. ‘I imagine if someone did plan the fire, they never, for one moment, thought it could be so dangerous – never wanted to hurt anyone.’

‘Enough of this speaking in riddles,’ said Henrik and looked around the table. ‘Why is Pippa here, Stavros? You and I have business to tie up, but–’

‘Ah… about that…’ Stavros looked at me. ‘After everything that has happened last night, I couldn’t believe how the villagers pulled together, to save me. There was no question….’ his chin trembled, ‘… no hesitation. It would have been so easy to wait for the firemen and take the risk that professional help might arrive too late. Niko, Cosmo, Demetrios… they put my life above the future of Taxos. And Henrik, of course…’ He patted my ex’s shoulder. ‘Which is why it pains me to say… I have to call off the deal with ThinkBig.’

I gasped.

‘Stavros?’ Henrik almost dropped his ouzo. ‘This is a joke, right?’

‘Sorry, my mate.’

‘But most of the paperwork is done – ThinkBig could make it very difficult to–’

Stavros held up his hand. ‘You knew I rushed through planning permission. ThinkBig could get into a lot of trouble if certain favours I’ve done came to light.’

Henrik sneered. ‘As if you are going to air your own dishonesty.’

Stavros pulled out a handkerchief and blew his nose. ‘You are right. I’m no fool – which is why I have covered my tracks. There is no clear evidence anywhere that I fast-tracked the approval. Investigations would find nothing concrete against me personally, just against the planning permission department and they aren’t likely to sack anyone without a solid name to go on.’

‘But why on earth would you call off the deal?’ I said.

‘I’ve seen the Taxos tourist leaflet – been impressed with the villagers’ efforts. This new Taxos, offering nature and craft experiences provides something the rest of the island doesn’t – it could work.’

‘Pah – you mean after last night, you’ve gone soft.’ Henrik shook his head. ‘You should have gone into hospital, Stavros, and got someone to check out your head. And if you think for one moment that my boss and I are going to back out quietly…’