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‘I forgot to change into my sandals,’ I said and kicked them off.
Niko took my drink and put the two cups down by his side.
‘I no criticise, Pippa. You are a beautiful woman – more striking than the orange blush of a sunset. But then I always thought you were out of the ordinary. I…’ He shrugged. ‘I never thought I’d see you again.’
For a moment I lost myself in his mocha eyes and swallowed hard. Henrik would never say something like that. I shook myself. And quite right too. It was okay in books, but what modern woman needed to actually hear romantic mush? Yet my heart raced like it never used to years ago, in my Greek friend’s company. What was going on? Clearly the strong Aegean sun had a lot to answer for.
I cleared my throat. ‘So, um, come on then – what’s the punchline?’ I leant back on my elbows.
‘Huh?’
‘The joke… after that compliment.’
Niko’s eyes lost their intensity for a second and he grinned. ‘We used to laugh a lot, no? Okay… Would you feel happier if I said you look very nice instead?’
‘Don’t you dare!’ I laughed and turned onto my front. ‘Does Cosmo still play his harmonica?
Niko smiled. ‘All the time.’
‘How about Demetrios? Remember the awful, wonky pots we made – is he married yet?’
‘No. But he adopted four stray cats. How they are spoilt – he made each a food bowl with their name.’
‘And is his shop still the only building in the village that isn’t painted white and blue?’
Niko nodded. ‘Yes, it is still the colour of aubergine, with ivy growing across the roof. Before the recession hit, Demetrios laid fancy tiles on the floor and bought a new kiln… So inside it has changed, but from the outside it still looks about one hundred years old, with the unlevel foundations that make it sink to the right.’
I grinned. ‘It’s good to be back.’
‘How long for?’
‘Three whole weeks.’
‘Ah, yesis good. We can get to know each other again. I have missed you these last summers, Pippa.’
My stomach fluttered. I realised I’d missed him too.
‘You and Henrik…’ He bit his lip. ‘It is true love… forever, no?’
‘Niko!’ I grinned. ‘We haven’t seen each other for so many years and within minutes you cut straight to the chase!’
‘Huh… chase?’ His gaze bore straight through me. ‘We haven’t seen each other for nine years, Pippa. Time isn’t to waste. You are sure he’s good enough?’
I raised one eyebrow. ‘Why would you ask that?’
Niko glanced away. ‘It’s just… Ay, ignore me, Pippa. You are an intelligent woman who wouldn’t waste time on the wrong man.’ He stared at the sand. ‘No one could believe his size, when he visited in January. The village’s children called him Gigantes, after our country’s mythical giant tribe.’ A muscle in his cheek flinched. ‘And the women couldn’t do enough for your Dutch goliath. Young Alysia from next door managed to build up a secret album of photos of Henrik, taken on her mobile phone.’
I gazed sideways at him. ‘So, if we’re being so forthright, what about you? Has Nikolaos Sotiropoulos found the woman of his dreams?’
His cheeks flushed. ‘For a long time I’ve doubted I ever would, but life is full of surprises. Perhaps now…’ He squeezed my hand. ‘Fate has been kind to me.’
My stomach flipped. Surely not…? Could he mean me? No. This was Shorty, just a family friend, who used to scare me with grass snakes – at his peril, I might add, as I knew spiders gave him the shakes.
I breathed in and out. Clearly the sun was messing with my brain.
‘So… Taxos… How are you all managing, with the recession?’ I mumbled, not quite sure what to say next.
‘Huh? Oh…’ Niko’s brow wrinkled and he drew circles in the sand with his finger.
‘Not good. I help Papa and Mama where I can, as a chef and waiter. Plus my cousin Stefan and I take out my uncle’s boat every morning to fish – after siesta we sponge-dive. But the locals watch every euro and there are only so many sponges you can sell to the neighbouring villages.’ He too lay on his front, so close it reminded me of when we’d hide, stretched out under tarpaulin, in the bottom of his uncle’s boat, to avoid our parents calling us in for bed.
Niko nodded across the sand. ‘See Mrs Dellis, over there?’
The old lady was easy to pick out as the beach was still empty. Dressed in black, from her scarf to her shoes, she sat in a deckchair, under a large parasol. Two young children built sandcastles at her feet. By the side of them lay two red lilos.
‘I’m surprised to see them out in this midday heat,’ I said.
He shrugged. ‘Two young boys must be hard for her to keep entertained. Their family is typical of many – her son-in-law lost his job as a website designer in Kos town. He’s gone back to farming the little land they have, with his wife, who makes cheese. They trade with farmers in neighbouring villages, try to sell jam and pickles as well, but is hard, especially in winter. More than ever grandparents look after children, whilst both parents work all hours.’
‘How do your uncle and cousin manage – just by fishing?’
‘My cousin and I have more physical strength now, so we’ve taken over. Uncle Christos gets shift- work cleaning, or as security at the airport, when he can.’
My eyes ran over Niko’s solid body. Despite being short as a child, he’d always been strong.
A relaxed silence fell between us as I glanced at houses lining the beach, each blue and white, like the sand, like the sky; each with a boatshed that could have done with a lick of paint. Henrik had been right – the village did look rundown. Henrik. With a sigh I realised it was time to return to the villa. I hadn’t even bought any milk or bread. I glanced up at the tree branches overhanging us. Their big leaves shimmied in the wind. Plump, green figs drooped down, as shapely as any Kardashian bottom, a clear sign they were ripe. Niko followed my gaze, stood up and easily plucked one off.
He lay down next to me again, caught my eye and I nodded. Just like in the old days, he rubbed it against his vest top before taking the first bite. Juice trickled out of the corner of his mouth as he passed me the other half. The cinnamon flesh glistened. I pushed it between my lips. Slowly I chewed, savouring its sweet lushness.
‘I’m glad you haven’t become too posh to eat the skin,’ said Niko and his mouth slanted into a smile.
‘I haven’t changed that much,’ I mumbled, as with his thumb, he gently wiped away juice from my chin. His hand lingered. Our eyes locked. The strangest sensation ran up and down my spine. As his pupils dilated, I wondered if mine were doing the same.
‘You still have those thick eyelashes,’ I murmured.
‘Remember you’d beg me to give you butterfly kisses,’ he said, eyes teasing. ‘You’d say “Niko, lean forward close and bat your eyelashes against mine”. The tickling sensation made your laugh sound like a braying donkey.’
I chuckled.
‘Go on – let’s do it, for… what do you say? For old clock’s sake.’
‘Old time’s sake… ‘
His grin widened. ‘Unless… perhaps Pippa Pattinson is boring in her old age?’
I snorted. ‘Fine. Go ahead.’ Our faces neared by a centimetre. Then another. Despite the shade, my body felt as if I were lying on volcanic rock. He pressed right up close, his breath blowing against mine. Our eyelashes touched.
What would happen if my mouth tilted just a few millimetres forwards? It was as if every cell in my body was magnetised to his. Oh God, all I could think of, right at this moment, was him. The memories, history between us, the laughter, silly arguments, the small scar above his lip…
I shut my eyes, to be met with a kaleidoscope of colours, as if magical fairy dust swirled in my head. Wow. What was that? Unable to stop myself, eyes open now, I leant further forward, calling on all my willpower not to press my lips against his – although if I didn’t soon, my insides would surely explode… By now we held each other’s hands. Gently our noses met. It was as if time had stood still to shout “all those moments from your childhood were leading to this”. Was I still out cold from sunstroke? Was this all a dream?
‘Pippa! I thought you were shopping,’ hollered a familiar male voice, from behind. ‘What on earth are you doing?’
No, I was wide awake and with a jolt pulled away.
Chapter Four
I swung around and got to my feet. Henrik approached, the wind almost blowing off his cap. He removed it himself to reveal Top Gun sunglasses. Behind him smiled a young Greek woman with a purple flower in her hair.
‘Sorry, Henrik,’ I stuttered, as he reached the fig tree. I brushed sand off my shorts. ‘Georgios and Sophia looked after me, you see, I fainted, then–’
‘I know,’ he said. ‘They assumed you two had gone shopping for the food we need.’ He held out a hand to Niko. ‘Good to see you again, mate. Thanks for looking after Pippa.’
After a momentary pause, Niko held out his hand. I got the feeling Henrik’s “mate” was the last thing he wanted to be.
‘Niko’s granitas are hard to resist,’ said the woman as she eyed the empty cups. ‘Ya sou Pippa. I am Leila, pleasure to meet you – I guessed you two had come here to cool off.’
Oh the irony – during those butterfly kisses, I’d never felt so hot.
Deep lines appeared in Henrik’s forehead, as he scanned my face. ‘I should have reminded you to put on sun cream. Why don’t you head back to the villa? I’ll get the groceries in.’
But I couldn’t stop staring at petite Leila. Not remembering her from my childhood, I studied the gathered skirt and blouse, the shiny raven hair draped down one shoulder and the small gold hoop earrings. She had a flavour of the exotic about her and what friendly eyes… Leila came forwards and with a shy expression hugged me tight.
‘Often Georgios, Sophia and Niko have talked about the Pattinson family, since I moved here with my parents six years ago – and Niko’s grandmother, Iris, tells tales of the tasty scones you baked her.’
‘How is Grandma?’ My chest glowed at the thought of Georgios’ mum. I couldn’t wait to see her again. Nine years without her fiery words – but caring heart – had been too long.
By now Niko had sat up, fig juice still at the corner of his mouth, vest top ruffled… His shoulders sagged. ‘Not the best, what with her being ill, the last year.’
Ill? My mouth went dry.
‘Whilst successful…’ his voice wavered, ‘…the treatment has been harsh. We see very small signs of improvement, of her blossoming back into the old Grandma – it is a gradual process, like the growth of oregano, a most slow-developing plant.’ He exchanged a look with Leila. She walked over as he stood up and squeezed his arm.
‘But a visit from you would cheer her up, Pippa,’ said Leila.
I returned her nod, barely able to breathe for a moment. Grandma was strong. It couldn’t be that bad, otherwise the Sotiropoulos family would have surely contacted us back in England.
‘She talks of you often,’ said Niko. ‘I remember how you used to tell her everything.’
‘Yes. Grandma was a great confidante.’ I gave a small smile. Which was true – Mum did her best but her mind often seemed elsewhere (the office, probably), whereas Grandma, who never stopped cooking or cleaning, still had the knack of knowing when to call me in for a fresh pastry and ask what was wrong. Like the summer after I’d fallen out with my best friend, or the year of my OCD phase. Gently she’d asked why I kept disappearing to the bathroom to wash. No one else had noticed. Grandma worked out I was fretting about the approaching autumn school term. I was due a new form tutor with a fearsome reputation. Grandma gave me her own Greek stress beads – but just talking about my worries had helped. And as usual she’d been right – rumours always tainted the truth and the new teacher turned out to be all right.
‘She’ll be okay, I’m sure,’ said Leila, in a voice as gentle as rustling olive tree leaves.
Yes. She was right. No doubt when I visited, Grandma would still be baking and ordering everyone about – and asking me to sing (or at least whistle) her favourite Greek song about a sleeping cuckoo… I nodded at Leila, now unable to take my eyes off the way she easily held onto Niko.
Henrik held out his hand. ‘Come on, Pips. Let’s head to the supermarket. I’m sure Niko and his fiancée would like some time alone, before the sponge-diving boats go out.’ He grinned at Niko. ‘Leila filled me in on your daily routine. It’s clearly not for the faint-hearted.’
My throat constricted and the oddest expression crossed Niko’s face.
Fiancée? Engaged to be married? For some reason, an unpleasant sensation pierced my chest. Wow, what a flirt he’d become, for someone on the verge of exchanging marital vows. Pursing my lips, I stood transfixed to Leila’s right hand and a diamond, obvious now, twinkling in the sunlight. That explained why Sophia had looked uncomfortable, in the taverna, at my easy closeness with her son. My eyes scanned her face, those elegant arms, the tiny waist… What was not to like? No wonder my childhood friend had fallen for her charms. Plus she was softly spoken and had the prettiest smile… I swallowed hard and for the first time in a while, momentarily wished my frame was more petite.
Niko spoke rapidly in Greek to this fiancée for a moment and then cleared his throat.
‘Look, Henrik, I don’t think Pippa’s up to shopping just yet – Leila will take you to the supermarket, yes? We’ll meet you back at my parents’ taverna.’
‘It’s true,’ said Leila, ‘you look a little off-colour, Pippa. It makes me happy to help Henrik. I promised to look after my small cousins today, but not for another hour.’
‘I’m absolutely fine,’ I replied in a bright voice. So, she was kind-hearted as well.
But the happy Greek couple (who me, sarcastic?) were having none of it. Plus Henrik took little persuasion when Leila hinted Georgios might shout him a free beer. Within minutes the two of them were gone. I picked up my hat and sunglasses and turned to go. However, Niko grabbed my hand.
‘Pippa. Look, don’t go, I should have…’
Gently, I pulled away my fingers. ‘Whatever… Your personal life – it’s… it’s nothing to do with me.’ I coughed. ‘Congratulations. She seems lovely. Your parents must be thrilled.’
‘Yes, but… look…before… about the butterfly kisses…’
I forced a laugh. ‘Look at us, trying to relive old times. What are we like? I’m… I’m glad you’ve found someone, like I’ve found Henrik.’
‘About Leila… I was going to tell you, but–’
Urgh, give it up Niko, otherwise… too late. Prepare for an Epic Fail when it came to pretend civility.
‘But what? I saw the way you flirted with those guests back at the taverna. “Ladeez”? I mean, really? Then with me on the sand… all those mushy compliments… you never used to talk like that.’ I shook my head. ‘You were the last person I expected to turn into one of those bull-shitting Greek waiters determined to charm their way into customers’ good books and wallets.’ Damn my voice for wobbling, but what was he playing at?
He stepped forward, eyes dull. ‘You really think that of me, Pippa?
I bit my lip.
‘The things I said about you… every single one I meant.’
Yeah right – as beautiful as the blush of a sunset? Did I really fall for that rubbish? Henrik may not be the most romantic man in the world, but at least he was dead-straight. And for that quality alone, he was worth hanging onto.
‘Oh come on, admit it,’ I said, voice calmer now. ‘You’ve not given me one thought over these years. And I… I’d practically forgotten that annoying boy who used to pinch my sweets and ping the straps of my bikini top. It’s okay. Life moves on.’
‘You’re even more attractive when angry,’ he said and smiled.
I shook my head. ‘You could learn a lot from watching a famous film my mum loves, called Shirley Valentine… You might pick up some tips on how to get into foreign women’s knickers more quickly.’
Cheeks flushed scarlet, he scowled and promptly lifted off his vest top. He threw it on the ground.
‘Oh God, what now… Am I supposed to be impressed?’ I muttered. ‘Honestly, you’re unbelievable.’ Although… wow. Look at those pecs, clearly visible, as he’d not become nearly as hairy as his dad. Niko’s eyes sparked and he pointed to a line of small scars down the right side of his abdomen, an imperfection which contrasted Henrik’s smooth, unmarked chest. Annoyingly I longed to run my fingers – or my tongue (eek, did I really just think that?) across his deliciously firm, caramel skin.
‘You remember, no?’ he demanded.
I stared for a moment, praying for some cold shower to hover over my head, like the snowman’s personal cloud in Frozen. Then it clicked. The jellyfish attack. It had happened during that last summer, when we’d both just turned fourteen. One stung me and I panicked. Swiftly Niko had swum over, through a cluster of them and dragged me out of the water. In the process he got trapped by tentacles and injured ten times worse than I was.
‘I would do it again in a heartbeat. And I’m grateful… This scar is a constant reminder of happy times – of our friendship. And–’
‘Here we go, bullshit again. That’s like the Greek waiter in that film saying he loves Shirley Valentine‘s stretch marks.’
‘Stretch marks?’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t understand the words but get your tone – after all those summers together, now you dove-hole me as some shallow playboy?’
‘It’s pigeon-hole,’ I muttered. My stomach twisted. ‘Yes, well, I wouldn’t worry. Clearly Leila thinks you’re fabulous.’
‘She is the fabulous one,’ he snapped.
My throat ached as I thought back to her exotic appearance. What did Leila do for a living? Probably something super sexy, such as painting portraits or dancing.
‘Unlike Henrik,’ he continued. ‘You should know that last time he was here–’
A bloodcurdling scream pierced the air and dropping my glasses and hat, I span around. Old Mrs Dellis paced up and down, howling and pointing at the waves. The beach was still empty so I followed her finger and gasped. Mrs Dellis’ two small grandsons balanced precariously on red lilos, far out at sea, wailing almost as loudly as her. Niko ran towards the old woman. I followed his cue. Within a minute we were by her side. He spoke rapidly in Greek and in between more howls she responded.
‘Na para I eychi!’ muttered Niko (“damn” to you and me) and in a flash slipped out of his sandals and jeans.
‘Exhausted Mrs Dellis fell asleep,’ he barked. ‘Those kids snuck off with their inflatables, even though they are not allowed in the water on their own. This wind must have blown them out towards a current. Neither is good swimmer. If one of them falls off…’
We exchanged a brief look before Niko charged into the waves.
Two hysterical kids and one adult? Nope, that wasn’t going to work. So thanks to the mathematician in me – and to the amazement of a few elderly locals who must have heard the commotion and come down to the beach – I pulled off my blouse and stepped quickly out of my shorts. Thank God I was wearing matching underwear and had recently waxed. Blocking out thoughts of jellyfish, I ran across the sand, to make up the numbers, flinching as one foot landed on something sharp before I hit the warm waves.
Trouble was, that wind seemed twice as strong in the water, which increased the height of the waves – for every half-metre forward, I had to navigate a half-metre into the air.
Bobbing up and down, I got flashes of the children’s faces scrunched up, lilos colliding. As saltwater filled my mouth, I suffered a coughing fit and Niko turned around.
‘Pippa? You crazee woman! Go back!’ he hollered.
‘Not likely. You’ll need help,’ I shouted. A scream cut through the air from the beach. I stared at the lilos. One of the children had fallen off – the eldest, by the looks of it.
‘Theo!’ shouted Niko, before disappearing from view himself. I also dived under the water. Just a few more metres and I’d be at the inflatables. Hundreds of white bubbles blocked my vision, but eventually I could just make out Niko’s muscular legs and the black curly head of a child. He dragged the boy up to the surface and we all came up for air.
Spluttering, I glanced again at the lilos, whilst Niko tried to calm down Theo. Nausea backed up my throat. Both were empty, now. The youngest must have fallen in too. Oh skata (rude word, you can guess which one).
I took a deep breath and dived again, leaving Niko to deal with Theo, who kept gagging and flapping his hands. Frantically I paddled my legs, arms tearing through the relentless current. Within seconds I was under the red plastic rectangles, exhausted, despite having only progressed a couple of metres. A clump of seaweed floated past and my eyes stung as I forced them to focus towards the inky black depths. With brilliant timing I recalled the film Jaws. Were great white sharks common in the Aegean?
With all my might I pushed myself further downwards. Now all I could think about what how much I needed oxygen. Luxurious, fragrant Greek cedar air, wafting into my lungs… My chest burnt as something grabbed my leg. I pirouetted around, throat aching as I ran out of breath. Little fingers reached up. In one swift movement I ducked and put my hands beneath the boy’s armpits. Legs kicking wildly, I propelled us to the surface.
‘Pippa…’ Niko’s voice broke as my head shot above the water’s surface. Theo was back on one of the lilos.
‘Help!’ I yelled, my open mouth taking in more briny liquid. Somehow we dragged Theo’s brother onto the other lilo and turned him onto his side. The little boy suffered a violent coughing fit. Water and saliva spewed out of his mouth. He gagged several times and burst into tears. The knots in my stomach unfurled as crying probably meant he was all right.
Niko ordered the children to lie on their fronts, on the lilos, and hold tight.
By this time a group of fishermen had sailed out, towards us. Thank God. My whole body felt as heavy as the anchor I spotted on the boat’s side. After what seemed like five hours, not five minutes, they arrived, first hauling the boys to safety. Niko insisted I went next. He followed, panting for breath, and the four of us crouched on the wooden seats, me in between the two boys.
A young fisherman, in a checked shirt, altered the angle of the sail, whilst his grey-bearded man companion wrapped the boys in towels and passed me a spare one. He avoided my eye. Ah yes. Of course. Just remembered my outfit consisted of one lacy bra and high-leg knickers. I wrapped the towel around my body, sarong-style, and wiped my mouth. Urgh. I hated that salty taste, and was that a slimy lace of seaweed down my back? My hair hung in rats’ tails, the tight bobble lost, as I slipped my arms around the children and cuddled them tight. My cheeks pricked and tingled like only fair skin does under the sun. Niko spoke to the crew, a couple of whom had clapped him on the shoulder.
Whilst the boat swayed from side to side, I spotted two adults with Mrs Dellis, on the beach. All three waved madly. As we neared I could see their tear-stained faces. The young couple must have been the boys’ parents. A bigger crowd had assembled near the old jetty. As the boat hit the sand, the boys’ mum and dad rushed forward, wading into the water. Old Mrs Dellis was still wailing and wringing her bony hands.
‘Efharisto, efharisto,’ the boys’ family kept saying to me and Niko. In turn, we thanked the fishermen.
A while later, Niko gave me a wry smile. ‘So here we are again,’ he muttered.
Having escaped the congratulations of the crowd and beady eye of the local doctor, we stood under the fig tree, me back in my shorts and blouse. I picked up my hat and glasses. He leant forward and ran a thumb over my cheeks.
‘They’ll be painful later. Grandma swears that yogurt helps sunburn.’
I shrugged and turned to go, like I had a couple of hours before.