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

Chapter 13

I take a shower, then take the short walk to the villa with Evie. Dimitri is nowhere to be seen, but just as we arrive he pulls up in his van. This time he is covered in dust, his denim shorts and black T-shirt covered in a light film of what looks like plaster. He is with an older, leathery-skinned man with twinkling eyes and a smiling face who he introduces as Yiannis.

‘His English is a bit what you might say… restricted.’ Dimitri frowns, searching for the right word as Yiannis runs his hand over the walls of the house.

‘Limited?’

‘Yes, limited. Maybe my own is not as perfect as I think.’ He smiles, but I am struggling to concentrate on his words. His dark hair that was tied back this morning is let loose now, the light curls almost touching his shoulders. But it’s his smile that captivates me as it could literally light up a room.

‘Thank you both for coming. I guess you would like to take a look inside then. I’m still worried about that though,’ I say, pointing to the zigzagging crack down the building. ‘There’s nothing more off-putting than a big crack,’ I say and Evie sniggers like a schoolgirl.

‘I can imagine,’ he says, keeping completely straight-faced. ‘Although I am sure it is superficial. The building will be rendered anyway, yes?’ he asks.

‘Yes,’ I say as I imagine my smooth, dazzling white villa and hoping it doesn’t take up most of the budget.

Upstairs is where the problems are though. The damp patch stretching outwards is water coming through the roof I am told, and Dimitri tells me they will need to investigate further. They point and prod, speaking to each other in Greek, before heading to the van for a pair of ladders. Yiannis scales the ladder like a man half his age, followed by Dimitri. After waiting for what seems like forever, Dimitri gives me the news that the roof will need to be completely replaced.

Heading into the second bedroom, he bounces on a slightly soft spot and Yiannis shakes his head. ‘New floor,’ he announces as I feared he might.

The small bathroom looks solid enough, it just needs ripping out completely and replacing.

‘You don’t like this colour,’ Dimitri teases, looking at the bright-blue bath suite.

‘Strangely enough, no. Or, surprisingly, the brown tiles.’

They take their time assessing the premises, including the rear yard with the stone steps leading to the upper floor.

‘I would like a pretty balcony there, maybe something with a nice filigree pattern. I’m thinking French doors opening out onto the balcony,’ I say, my imagination running away with me, along with the budget for the build probably.

‘We can do whatever you like. I have a couple of other jobs to finish, but I promise that in two weeks’ time we will start, and it will have our full attention,’ Dimitri reassures me.

We decide that the roof is the first and foremost job and I agree to return for two weeks in the near future as I feel I need to be there to oversee the first part of the project and draw up some plans.

Phoebe appears once more after Dimitri has left and invites me and Evie in for a drink. We were about to head off and change for dinner, but it seems rude not to accept. She is going to be my new neighbour after all.

We step inside her cheerful home, with white walls, a dark sofa draped with a colourful tapestry throw that she proudly tells me she made herself. The floor is terracotta stone, and a wood burner stands in the corner for the cooler months, which is something I want for my home.

‘Maybe not tea,’ she says, changing her mind as we sit down. ‘As it is a little hot some fresh orange juice, maybe,’ she offers, and we gratefully accept. She gestures us into the small but pristine kitchen and lifts a contraption from under a counter, the like of which I have never seen before. She loads it up with several oranges and pumps the handle of the manual orange juice maker and soon hands us each a glass of freshly squeezed juice.

‘Now I definitely want one of those,’ I say.

‘Ooh me too. I love fresh juice in the morning,’ agrees Evie.

It would be great to have fresh juice back home and I wonder if I might be able to find a machine on Amazon.

‘One day, I will take you to the store to buy the machine,’ she offers, her English far better than Yiannis’, although not perfect. Maybe we can help each other, and I will learn more than the usual morning and afternoon greetings, as well as please and thank you.

She asks us a little about our life, taking an interest in our work and Evie’s two children.

‘No children for you?’ she asks, pushing some biscuits towards us. I feel rude declining, as I don’t want to spoil my meal later, so take one out of politeness. My goodness, why do they taste so good? Evie happily polishes two of them off, much to the delight of Phoebe. My friend is one of those people that can eat anything and never put on an ounce of weight. Even after she had the twins, she was soon back to her pre-pregnancy weight.

‘No, not yet,’ I tell her, wondering if I ever will become a mother. It’s not something I have yearned for up to now, but who knows further down the line? Women are choosing to have their families later these days, I tell myself.

She asks if we have plans for tomorrow and tells us she will be going to church in the morning. ‘It is a beautiful church. I will pray for good luck in your new house,’ she tells me, and I thank her.

Half an hour later, we stand to leave, and Phoebe wishes us a good evening.

‘She’s a nice lady, isn’t she?’ says Evie as we walk back to the apartment.

‘She is. I wonder whether she might be a bit lonely, but then there seem to be plenty of people in the street she chats to. I noticed the woman of a similar age across the road as well.’

‘I’m sure she has friends. Didn’t she say she has church in the morning? She must have some friends there, surely?’

‘I’m sure you’re right. Maybe it’s just genuine Greek hospitality she is showing us.’

A few doors along, a young couple emerge with a tiny baby in a pram and a toddler and smile warmly at us, so it seems there are not just older people living here, which feels nice.

Back at the apartment, we change into dresses and head off along the main street as the sun begins to set behind the hills. It’s a little quiet, but a few families and couples are enjoying the start of the better weather and stroll along dressed smartly in summer bright colours, skin gently glowing from a day spent on the beach.

Boards outside restaurants offer up fresh fish dishes, beef stifado, and home-made moussaka. A colourful beach kimono in a shop window catches my eye, but I bought one similar last time I was here, so I rein myself in. I could happily buy clothes every time I step into a shop, but I have so many I will save my shopping for interior soft furnishings, once the renovation is complete. I dare to imagine how it might look and feel a tinge of excitement.

Kostas from the gyros café and the lady from the clothes shop I frequented on my last trip are having a chat outside a shop and approach us as we pass.

‘Welcome back, ladies,’ says Kostas warmly.

‘Thank you.’ I can’t help noticing the way Kostas looks at Evie and she looks a little coy, glancing at him but saying very little. I tell them excitedly all about my new house purchase.

‘That is wonderful!’ The lady from the shop claps her hands together. ‘We must have lunch in the cooler months when the shop is quiet and I can close it for an hour or two,’ she says, and I thank her, feeling grateful that I have made another friend already.

The new restaurant we have chosen is already half full, mainly with locals, but we are lucky enough to get a table overlooking the beach, as a family with two small children leave.

‘I still cannot believe you have bought a house, here, you lucky thing,’ says Evie as we sip some cold water, along with some olives a waiter has placed in front of us.

‘Neither can I.’ I gaze dreamily across the water and sigh. A boat is gliding along in the background, its twinkling lights on deck illuminating the rapidly darkening sea. It’s a world away from back home, the calmness being a perfect antidote to the bustling city and noisy traffic. I love both of these settings though, and can hardly believe that I will have the opportunity to flit between both worlds.

We share a bottle of crisp, white wine, and our delicious meze arrives. There’s hummus and tzatziki dips, dolmades in tomato sauce, along with chicken skewers, and halloumi bites. There is also a tasty-looking Greek salad and some olive bread.

‘What was that with Kostas?’ I ask, biting into a salty piece of halloumi.

‘What was what?’

‘I saw the look you gave each other.’ I raise an eyebrow and she fiddles with her napkin.

‘I’d say you’re imagining things.’ She laughs, taking a glug of her wine.

‘Okay fine.’ I dive into my food.

‘Although, actually, I do find him attractive. We chatted a bit last time I was here,’ she reveals casually.

‘Did you?’

‘Yeah. Remember the day you weren’t feeling too well?’

The day in question I was suffering with a hangover, regretting a third ouzo in a karaoke bar, after drinking wine.

‘I’d prefer not to.’ I pull a face and she laughs.

‘Well, anyway, I went out, you know, window shopping, and I had a gyros at the café. He served me and we got chatting as it was quiet. I always caught him looking at me after that whenever we walked along here,’ she reveals. ‘He’s really nice.’

‘So is your husband,’ I remind her. ‘Is everything alright with you and Nick?’

‘Yes, it’s fine.’ She plays around with her food a bit. ‘It’s just… Oh, I don’t know; we’ve been together for so long we’re more like mates these days,’ she reveals. ‘I mean I was nineteen when we got married, and we had already known each other for four years. Sometimes I wonder what on earth I was thinking.’ She gazes out across the water. ‘The girls are older now, doing their own thing most of the time. No doubt they will be off in a few years.’

‘Oh, Evie, is everything okay? I think your story is so romantic, not many people marry their childhood sweethearts.’

‘Yes, everything is fine, don’t worry.’ She pours us more wine and paints on a smile.

My heart breaks at the thought of her having doubts about her marriage going forward, although she did marry very young. I love Nick as much as Evie and have always envied their relationship. They’ve always given each other space, she’s sitting here with me right now after all, and he’s golfing in Scotland. But maybe they do their own thing a little too much.

‘I imagine marriages go through many stages. Maybe you just need to inject a bit more romance into things,’ I tentatively suggest. ‘When was the last time you had a romantic weekend away together?’ I ask, thinking that the girls seem to go to their gran’s so that they can explore separate hobbies.

‘Not sure. Oh, Claude, don’t worry, just because I fancy a local café owner, it doesn’t mean I’m thinking of jumping into bed with him.’ She grins.

‘Ah, so you do fancy him.’ I point my finger at her, and she rolls her eyes and laughs.

‘No harm in a bit of harmless flirtation, is there? Maybe it just feels nice to be paid a little bit of attention, that’s all.’

‘I’m not sure many people flirt after years of being together, but I’m sure Nick still fancies you.’

‘Well, I’m not.’ She places her wine glass down. ‘I had my hair coloured last week and bought a new dress to go to his aunt’s fiftieth birthday party and he barely noticed.’

‘He never noticed your highlights?’ I ask, surprised.

‘Well, yeah, but he never said much, just, “Have you had your hair done?” Not even followed up with “It looks nice”, or “It suits you”. He never pays me compliments these days, even though I always tell him if he looks nice.’

‘Have you told him how you feel?’

‘I did, actually, the day after the party.’ She dips bread into some hummus. ‘I told him I felt like I had gone to a lot of effort for the family party, and he never appreciated it.’

‘What did he say?’

‘He hugged me then and told me I always look beautiful, and that he always thought actions spoke louder than words, which of course is true. But he didn’t really do anything either. I guess I just feel a bit taken for granted.’ She shrugs.

‘Does he ever plan dates or anything?’

‘He used, and so did I, but I guess we’ve been so busy with the business and the girls, we don’t focus on us,’ she admits. ‘When we do have nights out, it’s usually with a group of friends or business associates.’

Evie and Nick kindly invite me along to some of their get-togethers.

‘Look, I’m no marriage expert, how could I be? I’m resolutely single. But I imagine you must have to work at it a bit, especially in a long marriage. I think you should find a gorgeous hotel and book that weekend away,’ I tell her firmly, and she promises me that she will.

We finish our delicious food and head to a local bar with neon lights flashing across a small dance floor, with promises of no more marriage talk. We are only here for the weekend after all, so intend to make the most of things. We chat to a couple of girls from the North East, who tell us they got a bargain price holiday in early season, and join them for a dance on the dance floor, before topping the evening off with a cocktail. A couple of blokes are glancing over at us, locals I think, but I don’t make eye contact.

It’s just after eleven o’clock when we say our goodnights to our new friends and stroll back towards the apartment, as the restaurant owners place food boards inside, ready to close for the evening. A group of young men are chatting outside the gyros café and glance over at us as we pass. Just then, Kostas emerges from inside with some food for the boys and waves us over.

‘Kalispera, ladies. Would you like anything?’ He gestures to an empty outside table.

‘Are you hungry? It’s ages since we’ve eaten,’ coaxes Evie. I am a little peckish, which often happens after a few drinks, but I know the real reason she wants to be here. And I don’t want to encourage her. But what the hell, I’m not her keeper. What harm can it do?

Kostas, who is maybe forty years old and good-looking, serves us chicken gyros and as the last customers leave, he dims the lights in the café and joins us outside. The air is a lot cooler now, especially being so close to the sea. Evie, who is wearing a sleeveless dress, gives her arms a little rub.

‘Are you cold?’ Kostas goes inside, then returns with his zip-up hoody from a chair and drapes it over her shoulders.

‘How long are you here for?’ he asks, seeming to direct this question more at Evie I can’t help noticing.

‘We leave the day after tomorrow,’ I tell him, wiping my mouth, having finished the tasty chicken snack.

‘You are only here for a short time?’ He seems surprised.

‘Yes, it’s a bit of a whistle-stop tour to show Evie the house and sort out some builders,’ I explain.

‘But soon enough you will be a regular visitor to the café, now you have bought a villa here, won’t you, Claudia?’ says Evie.

‘I’m not sure about being a frequent visitor, however delicious your food is. This place isn’t good for my waistline,’ I tell Kostas with a smile.

‘Ah, but I only use fresh ingredients. Healthy. We Greeks live long lives.’ He winks.

Evie can’t seem to take her eyes off Kostas as he chats to a waiter who has just emerged from the café, after clearing up. The young man says goodnight, before firing up his moped and driving off into the night. I notice the little looks exchanged between Evie and Kostas and think it is maybe a good thing we are leaving the day after tomorrow.

We finish up and stand up to leave, the only sounds in the street now coming from the occasional passing car, or people saying their goodnights from a bar at the end of the road.

‘Kalinychta, ladies.’ Kostas takes our hands and shakes them. His hand lingers a while longer in Evie’s, his gaze fixed on her.

We take the short walk home and I can’t resist taking a detour past the road with my house, and it’s completely silent. A few stray cats cross our paths as we walk, streetlights gently illuminating the road. It’s so quiet, it is just possible to hear the sound of the waves from the beach, and I dream of the day when I can sit on my newly installed balcony and relish those sounds, the voile curtains gently fluttering in a warm breeze.

‘You okay?’ I ask as we approach the holiday apartment, noting Evie has barely said a word.

‘Yes, I’m fine, just a little tired. It’s so gorgeous here, isn’t it?’ She sighs. ‘I’m so envious of you.’

‘Well, it’s lucky I have two bedrooms. You know you will be welcome over anytime.’

‘I know that. And don’t you worry, you won’t be able to get rid of me.’ She smiles and despite our close friendship, I do hope Nick will be joining her. I’m buying a huge sofa bed for the lounge, so the girls can join them too.

‘I’m pleased about that.’ I link her arm as we walk. ‘I’m sure you will all love it here,’ I say as I glance up at the silvery moon in the clear night sky.