The Greek Villa: A beautiful and utterly addictive summer holiday rom com

Prologue

‘Bye, Thea. I will be back soon, hopefully.’

I hug my friend, who is also the owner of the bakery at the end of the cobbled street in the pretty Greek village I’ve been staying in.

It’s been so much fun enjoying long, lazy days swimming and taking boat trips with my best friend, Evie, who accompanied me. Not to mention eating far too much cake, but hey, holidays are for indulging, aren’t they? I have also enjoyed chatting to people in the local bar, practising my limited Greek vocabulary because I would love to be able to have more conversations next time.

‘I hope so,’ says Thea. ‘You are good for my business.’ She winks.

The waistband of my cotton shorts – feeling a little tighter now compared to when I first arrived – are testament to Thea’s wonderful baking. Freshly baked bread and croissants in the morning, and more than a healthy interest in freshly baked baklava, have been far too much of a temptation while I have been here. Not to mention custard pie and honeyed orange cake, the list goes on. If only it didn’t taste so good.

‘And bye, Evie. It was lovely to meet you.’ Thea shakes my friend warmly by the hand.

‘You too. I can see why Claudia loves it here so much.’ She smiles, glancing around the pretty street.

Thea is not only a great baker, but a fantastic chef too. When I came here alone last year, she invited me to her home for dinner and I sat beneath the stars with her family, eating and drinking at a long wooden table in the flower-filled garden. I inhaled the tantalising aroma of food sizzling on a BBQ, before tucking into lamb steaks, griddled halloumi, and soft pitta, alongside a mountain of crunchy Greek salad. Taking in the sight of distant mountains and an orange sun making its descent, I felt my spirits soar and wished that I could stay forever. As I listened to the sound of everyone’s laughter, and gentle teasing, I also wished I were part of a large family. I have a brother, who I was close to growing up, but he moved down south with a girl he met at university and is now raising a family over two hundred miles away. I would have loved more siblings, especially a sister, and longed for the noise of a busy household.

Even now, I’d love my home in the UK to feel livelier. I have been single for a while now, which is fine as I’ve always enjoyed my own company and would never be in a relationship just to avoid being on my own, but it would be nice to have company. However, people are not always who they seem, something I have had to learn the hard way.

I glance around the village road one last time as our taxi driver loads our cases into the trunk of his car for the journey to the airport.

Thea stands at the top of the road, waving us goodbye as the sun begins to rise, ready to open the door of her bakery shop to her customers. She has already been there for the last three hours baking bread rolls and cakes for the villagers, and will have a siesta later in the day.

I wave until the car has descended the narrow street and turns right towards the road that passes the seafront. Settling into my seat, I sigh with contentment. It’s been yet another wonderful stay, renting the apartment opposite the bakery, its balcony above giving a view of the beach in Roda.

‘I feel really relaxed, even though I have only been away for a few days,’ says Evie.

‘It kind of has that effect here, doesn’t it?’ I smile at my friend.

I can’t help looking longingly out of the window at the view of the sea in the distance. A couple holding hands walk along a boardwalk towards the beach, maybe ready for an early morning swim, and I wish that was my morning too.

I’m not exactly looking forward to heading home to my hybrid working, splitting days in the office with working days at home.

But in the words of Arnold Schwarzenegger, ‘I’ll be back’.