towards her, but the irresistible pull she had felt towards Nicos had not diminished. She had wondered if, in the clear light of day and with Michalis present, the visceral attraction that had drawn her to Nicos the previous night might feel less powerful. But the pull was still there and just as strong. She felt it on her skin and in her pulse and in the pit of her stomach.
She tried to maintain her distance from him, unwilling to cause offence to Michalis. If she stood too close she felt an overwhelming desire to touch Nicos, to feel the current from his skin as she did the night before. Nicos, on the other hand, took every opportunity to take her hand or slip an arm around her waist and guide her towards something or other he wanted to show her.
‘Did you know that the first cultivation of olive oil was in Greece and more specifically in Crete?’ he told her, pointing at an incredibly gnarled old olive tree. ‘We’ve been producing olive oil here since the Minoan civilization, so no wonder our olive oil is the best in the world.’ He beamed with pride.
‘As a matter of fact, yes, I did know,’ Calli replied, smiling. ‘Your brother has already told me something about that.’ Nicos’s enthusiasm was no less than Michalis’s.
‘They might say that Kalamata olives are the best in the world, but have you tried Cretan olives? Did my brother tell you that they are even better?’ he chuckled as he continued his eulogizing.
Calli spent the entire morning in a perpetual state of euphoric confusion and anxiety. She would steal furtive glances at Michalis as they visited the processing plant, trying to gauge his reaction and mood, but she sensed no change to his usual mild and good-natured humour.
‘You see how knowledgeable my brother is about olive oil?’ he told her, interrupting Nicos’s explanation. He gave him a playful slap on the back. ‘Come back, Brother, we can get reps to sell our oil for us in Athens.’
By noon the sun was blazing and too hot for them to be wandering among the trees; besides, the men were complaining of feeling hungry again.
‘Let’s head to the little taverna up the hill for lunch,’ Michalis said, adding to Calli, ‘Remember the place? The one with the perfect briam?’
She remembered it well; he had taken her there for lunch the first time they went for a drive together. Tucked away from the road in an orchard, shaded by the cluster of trees that surrounded it, the taverna provided them with a welcome release from the midday heat. As they entered the cool dining room, Calli was amused to find that the same group of high-spirited local farmers who had been lunching there that first time had gathered again for their midday meal. On seeing the three friends they all raised their glasses and greeted them noisily.
‘I love this place,’ Nicos said, leaning back on his chair. The proprietor was already approaching their table carrying a bottle of ice-cold raki and three glasses. They ordered the restaurant’s speciality, knowing that it was Calli’s favourite, and whatever else was on offer that day.
‘My wife has been cooking since five o’clock this morning,’ the proprietor told them. ‘You are in luck because she has made dolmathakia with succulent vine leaves picked by yours truly.’ He gave a hearty laugh and filled their glasses.
‘No one makes briam like us Cretans,’ Nicos said, spooning a generous helping onto Calli’s plate as soon as the dish arrived steaming from the kitchen.
‘I’ll drink to that! Stin yiamas! To our health,’ Michalis said, raising his glass, then turning to look at his brother: ‘It’s one thing selling oil, and another making it.’
‘It’s true, I miss walking among the trees,’ Nicos replied.
‘Then perhaps you should come back,’ Calli added. ‘Perhaps that’s what I should do,’ she laughed and lifted her glass to her lips.
They delivered Calli back to the house in good time for the customary siesta, which she felt she needed more than ever before. Alcohol during the day really didn’t suit her, she would tell people; even a glass of wine could put her out of sorts. She had managed to shake off her previous night’s heavy head, but on this day she knew the only remedy that would keep her calm and steady her nerves was a drink. The glasses of raki the men encouraged her to share with them did the trick, but it also