Some Like It Greek - Sue Roberts Page 0,73

perfect,’ Dara says. I glance at my watch and see with surprise that it’s almost four o’clock.

‘I think I’ll head off to bed for an hour.’

Dara moves closer, his hands circling my waist.

‘Alone,’ I tell him firmly, feeling the need for some space and some rest. ‘Shall we say seven thirty at my place?’

‘I’m counting down the hours already.’ Dara kisses me before heading off to his hotel. ‘I’ll bring more wine later,’ he calls as he walks away.

Twenty-Eight

Back at the Airbnb, I put the food away in the fridge, head to the bedroom and slide the patio door wide open. The white voile curtain flutters gently in a welcome breeze. I kick my shoes off and flop down onto the large comfortable bed, closing my eyes. Soon enough, I’m drifting into a glorious afternoon sleep, when my phone rings. It’s Demi.

‘Hello, Anna, how are you?’ she asks, full of enthusiasm.

‘Demi, hi, I’m fine. Just about to have a siesta, truth be told.’

‘So how are you liking Fiskardo? Is it as expensive as they say?’ she asks before adding cheekily, ‘Or maybe you have met someone to buy you cocktails at the harbour?’

‘That’s not really my scene, Demi, although it’s funny you should say that.’

I tell her all about Dara turning up here from Albania.

‘I told you the Irishman liked you. Although maybe even more than I realised. If he came all that way to see you, you must have made quite an impression on him.’

‘Maybe. Although he said Fiskardo was on his to-do list anyway.’

‘Sure it was. I don’t think he would have “done it” so soon if you hadn’t been there, though. Anyway, I wanted to tell you that things are going well with the party preparations. A friend of Lia’s is able to get hold of a pig and we are going to have a hog roast. And Lia is making a huge pan of sheep’s head broth. It’s her speciality and quite delicious.’

‘Ugh. You boil an actual sheep’s head?’ I feel sick at the very thought.

‘Just for the flavour, mainly – lots of vegetables and potatoes are added. If the sheep is already dead, why waste any part of it?’ she reasons, which I suppose makes perfect sense, but even so…

‘You know, I’d forgotten how people live here,’ she says, sounding nostalgic. ‘Everything is fresh and homemade, none of this placing ready meals into an oven.’ It sounds as though Demi is embracing her Greek origins with open arms.

‘I’m so looking forward to meeting all of my great nieces and nephews; you know how much I enjoy the company of young people,’ Demi continues. ‘But there’s someone I’ve been thinking about a lot,’ she says quietly.

‘I know. But the good thing is, you know where he is. Maybe when the time is right,’ I gently suggest.

Not for the first time I wonder whether or not I have made things worse and wish I’d never stumbled upon Petros. But once I’d made the connection, how could I have stayed silent?

I say goodbye to Demi and as the warm sunshine floods the room, I doze gently. We’ll be heading home in a couple of days and realise I’m not ready to leave. I’ve fallen in love with Greece and I wish I could spend another week exploring Kefalonia. But given my current employment status, it would surely be a waste of the redundancy money that is currently in my bank account to stay longer. I’ve tried to be careful with it but I think maybe I underestimated the cost of fuel and food on this trip.

I’ve been thinking quite a bit this last week or so and as I’ve curled and styled Demi’s hair throughout our travels. Working in a salon wouldn’t have the sales targets of my previous job, well, apart from trying to flog a few hair products I suppose. It could be really stressful at times achieving targets at the bank, despite me being good at it. I once read that hairdressing is the happiest profession in the world. Maybe it’s all that gossiping and talking about holidays, or probably that it’s creative, which I’ve come to realise is a side to me I haven’t really nurtured.

Dara arrives just after seven thirty, carrying a bag containing a bottle of wine and a small bottle of ouzo. He is also carrying a bunch of wild flowers.

‘Wow, did you pick those especially for me? I’m impressed.’ I eye the mix of cream, pink and purple-coloured blooms with