Forty-two
The White House, Kalami
‘Thank you,’ Sonya said as a waiter showed them to their seats. Tess made her way around the cloth-covered table to the rattan chair. It was amazing how good she was getting at negotiating rocks, stones and the Corfiot roads in heels. She sat down and took in the view.
The White House was the former residence of British authors Lawrence and Gerald Durrell and recently the family had been brought back into the spotlight because of the ITV series inspired by the book, My Family and Other Animals. The building was now a restaurant and apartments, set at one end of the bay of Kalami. Whitewashed with green shutters, an open extension from the main building made up the taverna area and beneath, on the natural rocks, as close to the water as you could be, were the tables Tess and Sonya were sitting at.
Tess breathed in, eyes on the rippling water. There was hardly a breeze tonight, but the July humidity had dropped slightly. Tonight it was more warm and comforting than oppressive. And oppressive wasn’t required when you had a missed call from your mother on your phone and a voicemail you didn’t want to listen to.
‘So,’ Sonya said, exhaling. ‘Have you spoken to Andras since earlier?’
‘Sonya, you’ve been with me all afternoon. We wrote dozens of potential new names for Blackberry Boudoir in an Excel spreadsheet.’
‘I know,’ Sonya said. ‘I just thought he might have called to arrange our next outing … or something.’
The list of company names wasn’t the only Excel spreadsheet Tess had looked into. She had found Andras’s accounts for the restaurant. For a brief second she had considered opening it and pulling together some information for him to present to the bank but it felt like a breach of trust. It was unlikely he’d want her to know the precise nature of his finances. He might only want her guidance in telling him what the bank would be looking for. She focused back on Sonya.
‘If he calls about “or something”, I will let you know.’ She scanned the other tables, looking for a waiter. She really needed some wine.
‘Smooth As Silk!’ Sonya blurted out like she had branding Tourette’s.
‘Sounds like a body lotion,’ Tess stated.
‘Sweet Harmony?’
‘A hairspray,’ Tess said.
Sonya sighed. ‘And that’s why I work in the post room and not as a marketeer.’
‘Sorry,’ Tess apologised. ‘I think it’s going to be one of those jobs where the right name is either going to take a long time coming or it’s just going to pop up out of nowhere.’
‘Plum Nights!’
‘I think if I go with that I would be able to use those old graphics,’ Tess stated.
‘You would like some wine?’
A smiling waiter was by their table.
‘Yes, yes please, we would,’ Tess replied.
‘It feels better, doesn’t it?’ Dorothea grinned, fingers pulling down her red headscarf, as Andras collected two plates of spanakopita from the serving hatch by the kitchen.
‘What feels better?’ Andras asked.
‘The restaurant,’ Dorothea replied. ‘Without the evil spirits clouding everything.’
He stopped in the doorway, the plates steady in his hands. ‘You do not believe my mother, do you, Dorothea? Because the only thing I could see clouding my restaurant today was smoke from the priests.’
‘It feels cleaner now,’ Dorothea continued. ‘Bad vibes have been removed, light and love return for the wedding of Spiros and Kira, no?’
He was done with this superstitious nonsense. If there was one part of his Greek life he wanted to eradicate, then this was definitely it. And since the parochial cleansing and the things his mother had said, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about one person: Tess. How must she be feeling knowing she had done him this huge favour and his family had been stalking her private life on the Internet?
He kept remembering the look on her face, tears in her eyes she had seemed determined not to let fall. He knew already, from spending time with her, that there was more to her than her beautiful hair and the way her nose twitched when she was concentrating on something. And now he was concerned. Because of that immediate, intense reaction. Because there was something she was afraid of. He needed to know what it was. He wanted to know.
He looked at the food in his hands, quickly becoming cold. Mathias swerved by, heading for the wine racks. Andras held the plates out to him. ‘Mathias, could you take care of table nine for me? I have to go out.’
The food was absolutely divine, as good as Georgiou’s. Tess’s taste buds were on full alert and dancing like a frenzied Ed Balls on Strictly. She slicked a slab of feta cheese through the spiced olive oil and put it into her mouth, letting the hot, creamy, salty sour sensation work its magic on her tongue …
‘Joey’s at a nightclub.’
Sonya’s statement had the food climax fizzing out. She looked across at Sonya who was clutching her mobile phone in her hand.
‘Sonya, why are you looking on your phone?’ Tess asked. ‘Didn’t you say you were going to have a little faith?’
‘I know,’ Sonya said, voice wobbling. ‘But I set an alert … to tell me when Joey posts and …’
Tess shook her head. This wasn’t good.
‘He doesn’t like nightclubs,’ Sonya said. ‘They have too much—’
‘Stale air?’ Tess offered.
‘Loud music,’ Sonya finished off. ‘Joey likes to talk. He says if you’re going out out then you need to be able to have a proper conversation. Not have everything drowned out by … technotronics.’
Tess wasn’t even sure technotronics was a real word. But that wasn’t the issue here. The issue here was Joey wasn’t here and he had told the world he was in Margate with a woman, in a hotel, and now he was doing something else that would usually be out of his comfort zone, leaving Sonya back in panic mode.
‘OK,’ Tess said, taking a calming breath. ‘There are two things we can do.’ She made sure she had Sonya’s full attention. ‘We can do exactly like we’ve been doing, loving his posts, putting up some fabulous ones of our own, or …’
‘Or?’ Sonya said, elbows on the table, looking across at Tess as if she held all the answers.
‘I’ve said it before. You can phone him,’ Tess said bluntly.
Sonya didn’t move. Not one eyelash. She just carried on looking at Tess as if she hadn’t spoken. Perhaps she needed to rephrase the suggestion.
‘Phone him, Sonya.’ She sighed. ‘Please, phone him.’
She watched her friend swallow, her fingers seeking reassurance from the necklace that wasn’t there. ‘Well, what would I say?’
‘Just check in,’ Tess said. ‘Keep it casual. Tell him you’re having a great time here and tell him about all the things we’ve seen and done.’ She moved her eyes over to the scenery again. Aquamarine sea, the lush, green cypress trees, the golden strip of beach, all against a backdrop of the blue sky turning pink as the sun descended. ‘Tell him he would love Kalami.’ She loved Kalami. A shiver rolled over her shoulders.
‘He would really love Kalami,’ Sonya said, circling the rim of her wine glass with a finger.
Another thought struck Tess. ‘Did you say he was at a nightclub?’
‘Yes,’ Sonya said. ‘Somewhere called “Maxim’s”.’
Tess checked her watch. ‘Sonya, it’s only six o’clock in England. What nightclub is open at six o’clock?’ Now she had a theory. ‘I think I know what Joey’s doing.’
‘What?’ Sonya asked.
‘Just go and call him,’ Tess ordered.
‘What, now?’ Sonya said. ‘Before my chocolate soufflé in baklava parcels?’
‘Yes, now,’ Tess said, flapping away a mosquito.
She saw a mixture of emotions in her friend’s expression. Instant elation at the thought of contacting the man she adored, but then something else, more contemplative, something slightly wistful, verging on anxious. She so wanted this relationship issue to be resolved. For Sonya. And for that tiny bit of her that was warmed by the thought of a strong, enduring relationship. As that feeling hit she felt the need to bring her glass of wine to her lips.
‘OK,’ Sonya said, shifting in her seat and picking her handbag off the rock floor, mobile phone still in her hand. ‘OK.’ She looked like someone had just told her she had to slip into the anchor chair on BBC News.
Tess smiled. ‘Go get him.’
Sonya nodded and crossed her fingers in the air.
Tess watched Sonya begin to negotiate the uneven rock and head towards the main building for a little privacy. And that’s when reality bit. She was alone, completely alone. Surrounded by tables filled with couples, families and groups, all connecting with each other and enjoying the simple, warm, candlelit ambience. There was no one to connect with now Sonya was off reconnecting with Joey. There would be no one to eat at Gianni’s with when she got home. No stories about someone else’s day – Tony and his car showroom clients or Daniel and his hair-and-nail salon. Her fingers itched for the phone in her hand. The scrolling, attention-sucking draw of the dating app. She made a move, lowering her hand towards her bag until she remembered the voicemail her mother had left. She couldn’t look at that red dot and ignore it. And she definitely didn’t want to listen it. She let out a breath. She was being ridiculous. She could do this. She could be dateless in Corfu. She was just going to sit back, absorb the setting sun, the Albanian mountains in the distance, and that cerulean water so close she could almost touch it.
‘Tess,’
The soft, warm, Greek lilt immediately had her turning away from the shoreline towards the sound and its owner. Andras.