tell him his mother is in a village a little over a half hour away and preparing for her seventieth birthday party tomorrow.
‘She’s told me I am her guest of honour, although I’m sure that particular honour should be reserved for you,’ I say, excitedly.
‘I think maybe it would be better to meet privately first.’ Petros looks serious.
‘Yes, yes of course. I’m so sorry, Petros, what was I thinking? How insensitive of me.’
Petros finishes his coffee and stands to leave.
‘I must head home now and check on my wife. I will think about what you have said. And thank you.’ He smiles at me warmly and I feel relieved that he appears to be OK with everything.
‘Can you give me your number?’ he asks. ‘I will be in touch when I am ready.’
He taps my number into his phone before heading off and I breathe a sigh of relief that he took the news well. All I can do now is wait.
‘Thank you.’
I catch a bus back to the campsite and once inside the van, I kick my sandals off and stretch out on the bed for a few minutes and mull everything over in my head. Dara told me he would text me when he arrived in Canada so I check my phone for any messages, but there’s nothing yet. While I have my phone out, I scroll through some photos and come across one of Demi at the top of the Asinelli Tower in Bologna, smiling. I regret not having taken a selfie of us together to capture the moment which actually felt like more of an achievement to me than it did to Demi.
There’s a photo taken on the campsite in Bologna where Dara made the al fresco meal, and set the table set with flickering candles. It was the most perfect of evenings and despite my resistance, that was the night I could feel myself falling under his spell. As well as having good looks, I found him to be the most unassuming of men, not flaunting his wealth – in fact, not even mentioning it until I prised the information out of him. I hope with all my heart that one day our paths will cross again, however unlikely that might seem right now.
Thoughts of Manchester and my relationship with Joel feel like a million miles away now, even though it’s less than a couple of weeks since I left I’m so glad I had the courage to come on this journey. It’s quickly showing me that there is a life outside of Manchester.
Thirty-Two
There’s a small restaurant on the campsite and in the evening, I dine at an outside table on a meal of padaikas, which are grilled lamb chops, served simply with lemon and a green salad. Afterwards, as I scroll through my phone enjoying a coffee, I notice a text message from Dara that I somehow missed. He tells me he has arrived safely and that his plane was delayed by three hours.
I tap out a message to tell him I’m pleased he arrived safely. He responds immediately and asks me to wish Demi a happy birthday tomorrow, saying that he’ll be in touch with me again soon.
It feels so good to hear from him but I’m also waiting anxiously to hear from Petros about Demi. We’ll be heading off home soon and it would be wonderful if Demi and Petros could at least meet each other before then. I appreciate that it was a lot for him to take in and he’ll no doubt be discussing it with his wife and daughter.
I sleep well and the next morning I bustle about in the van and gather a load of washing to take to the campsite’s laundry room. Watching my clothes rotate in the washing machine, I get chatting to a young backpacker who has been exploring the Greek islands. She tells me her best friend at university died suddenly at the age of twenty, and the shock and grief prompted her to take a gap year and go travelling. It reminds me once more that tomorrow is promised to no one and that we should grab life with both hands.
A couple of hours later, I have put all the washing away and cleaned the whole van. I take a walk down to a local taverna and enjoy an omelette for breakfast. I don’t want to eat too much, as Demi has described a veritable feast of food for the party, including the