One Greek Summer Wedding

Chapter 7

‘It wouldn’t surprise me if Sofia had taken over the entire restaurant,’ Margot remarked as they made their way across the marble to where they were meeting the wedding party. ‘Sofia always loved anything exclusive. I remember she had quite the possessive streak when it came to a millionaire we met in Monte Carlo. He was ever so good-looking, but obviously you can’t be exclusive when you’re that sexy. I never minded shared experiences, but sharing wasn’t ever something Sofia was fond of. Still, her loss was usually my gain.’

As Margot gave more background information on the mother of the groom, all Cara could think about were tiny seeds. What sort of analogy had the strange priest given her? It didn’t make sense. Because not every decision was small. What to choose from the menu for dinner – small decision. What to do with the rest of your life – big fucking decision. But, then again, when had she ever sought advice from the church before? She hadn’t even wanted to get married in a church.

‘Cara, is everything OK with you?’ Margot asked.

‘Yes, sure, of course.’ That was a few too many words.

‘Because when you left me in the Liston, I was a little worried you were having one of your weak moments.’

One of your weak moments. Margot had said the phrase like the crippling anxiety she suffered with was a personal choice. And her aunt never made any bones about the fact that weakness was ugly and something people took advantage of rather than sympathised with. She internally steeled herself now, imagined reeling out a roll of barbed wire and wrapping it up around her gut. A game of let’s pretend…

‘I’m good.’ Had that sounded convincing? Before Margot could eye her with suspicion or say anything else, she followed it up with, ‘Honestly, just a little tired from the flight but completely looking forward to meeting your old friend and getting into the wedding vibe.’

Perhaps that was a teensy bit over the top for someone who couldn’t even come within a metre of a Hello magazine cover if it had a bride on the front…

‘Jolly good,’ Margot announced. ‘Because Sofia might be a friend, of sorts, but that doesn’t necessarily mean this encounter is going to be any less testing than a boardroom showdown.’

‘What?’

‘Just, remember your inner lioness, like we learned at that conference in Norwich, and follow my lead.’

With those words imparted, Margot made longer strides, opened her arms like she was about to embrace the entire universe and strode towards a table outside on the marble. Cara rushed to catch up then slowed her speed into that of a confident prowl.

‘Sofia, darling! Don’t you look wonderful? Doesn’t all this look delightful? How long has it been? Don’t answer, I’ll tell you, it’s been far too long.’

Cara watched as Margot embraced a perfectly put-together dark-haired woman dressed in what looked like a Dolce and Gabbana dress. She had glossy hair that was tied in a perfect chignon and her make-up was subtle except for a bright pink lipstick that suited her so well.

‘Hi! Who are you?’

Cara jumped at the sound of another female voice behind her and turned around to see a woman about her age with an abundance of long dark curly hair. She was smiling and had a folder in her hand like she was about to do business.

‘I’m Cara. Cara Jones. I’m here with?—’

‘Margot! My mother’s friend who has been so helpful!’

Cara quickly did the family tree maths.

‘Sorry,’ the woman carried on. ‘I am Anastasia. Sofia’s daughter. The best-looking one of her children and the smartest, obviously.’

Cara smiled, immediately liking this woman’s energy. Anastasia stuck out her hand, then seemingly thinking better of it, put her arms around Cara and squeezed her, crushing the folder against her chest. Cara barely had time to recover before Anastasia was hastening her towards the table where other women were already seated.

‘Let me introduce everyone! And we are all going to speak English, yes? Because the beautiful bride and her family are English!’ Anastasia boomed. ‘So, when I call your name just wave. The most important one first we have?—’

‘I am Sofia! Mother of Cosmos, the groom,’ Sofia interrupted.

There were a few titters of laughter until Anastasia carried on again. ‘I was going to say the most important person is Wren, the bride.’

A very petite mousey-haired young woman waved rather meekly and then Anastasia continued with the introductions. Wren’s mother, Wren’s auntie, Wren’s best friend and bridesmaid, Kelly, then there was a woman who had been introduced as something to do with flowers, another one owned a bakery and then there was Cara and Margot. It wasn’t quite the grand taking-over-the-entire-restaurant party Margot had claimed it was going to be.

‘There will be more of us for the show,’ Anastasia announced as she took her seat next to Cara. ‘My friends were not going to miss out on my mother paying for us to watch half-naked men for two hours.’

Thatwas the show? Strippers? Cara had envisaged cabaret perhaps, but more jazz band and martinis than abs and Magic Mike.

‘Plus, there’s the added bonus that my mother is going to freak when she sees my brother.’ Anastasia laughed and picked up a bottle of Mamos beer, swigging it back. ‘Not Cosmos. He’s banned from Corfu Town tonight so the women can have fun. He will get his turn in a few days or so.’

Cara was starting to have trouble remembering who was who and she noticed Margot hadn’t actually sat down yet. Her aunt was working the table, making sure she introduced herself to everyone and palmed a business card into each handshake. It was as impressive as it was slightly embarrassing. But that was why Margot was so successful. When it came to coming out on top, she gave very few shits about etiquette.

‘So, tell me,’ Anastasia said, swivelling a little on her seat to give Cara more attention. ‘Do you have a boyfriend or a girlfriend? Because you are way too pretty to be single.’

Cara smiled. ‘Ah, well, that’s where you’re wrong.’

‘I am not wrong that you are pretty,’ Anastasia said. ‘But I do need to know if I am wasting my time.’

‘Oh!’ Cara exclaimed. ‘You were?—’

‘Hitting on you a little,’ she said smiling. ‘Something else my mother hates is my sexuality. Or, should I say, she hates that I tell people openly that I like men and women. Imagine, your parent not liking that their child is honest.’

‘I like men,’ Cara answered. ‘Sorry.’

‘Do not apologise,’ Anastasia said immediately. ‘But know you are doomed to a life of waiting for them to text first.’

Cara really did like this girl’s vibe. She picked up a glass of wine that was in her place. ‘Let’s cheers to that.’

‘Yammas,’ Anastasia said, knocking her beer bottle against the glass.