Chapter 17
The sun streaming through the pale curtains has me rising the next morning at six thirty. I make myself a coffee, then push the door open to the small balcony. To the left I can glimpse an allotment area being used by some of the locals, where they grow courgettes, corn, tomatoes and a variety of fragrant herbs. Next to that, a caged area has chickens that are already awake and clucking. I lean over the balcony and on the right side, I can see the white church, with its dark bell tower. It’s so beautiful and quiet at this time, although the sudden sound of a cockerel crowing loudly breaks the silence. Straight ahead, I glimpse the sea as the sun begins its ascent, a gentle orange hue rising slowly above the horizon.
Sitting on the tiny balcony, I think of how this place is a world away from back home, where my balcony there gives a view of apartments, and a railway track. Tonight, I plan to sit here and read a book, and realise it’s been so long since I’ve actually done that back home, often starting one but never having the time or being in the right frame of mind to finish it, with so many distractions around, including Netflix and the temptation to scroll through social media on my phone. I vow never to meet anyone that way again though, after my last miserable experience.
I dress and shower, then nip to the bakery for some cake for the picnic.
‘Kalimera,’ Thea greets me brightly. ‘So how is the build going?’ she asks as she finishes serving a local with some bread rolls.
‘Good, I mean, it’s early days really, and I probably shouldn’t be sneaking off for a picnic with my new neighbour, but it’s such a gorgeous day.’
‘You are paying the builders to do the job for you,’ she says, echoing my own sentiments and making me feel better. ‘And I am sure they can be trusted. My nephew is a good man. He must be, to be working on a Sunday.’
‘Of course.’ I smile, selecting some slices of cheese and spinach pie called spanakopita. I buy a cake topped with icing and a jelly sweet for Phoebe’s great-grandson too. ‘And I’m very grateful.’
‘Have a good day. I will check on the house later if you like?’ offers Thea, but I don’t want the guys to think I am checking up on them.
‘Don’t worry about it, but thanks anyway,’ I tell her as I head off.
I knock at Phoebe’s with the food at eight thirty and she receives it gratefully, before putting it in her fridge until her granddaughter and great-grandson arrive.
‘Did you have a lie-in?’ Dimitri teases as I arrive at the villa. It’s something I am learning he seems to do rather a lot, although I realise that work starts early before the sun gets up in the afternoon.
‘Well, it is Sunday.’
‘For some of us,’ he replies, a grin on his face. ‘I am teasing, I hope you have a nice morning at the park.’ He smiles. ‘It is good that you trust us to get on with things.’
‘Of course I do.’
‘Oh, and I hope you have your mosquito spray, especially if you go near the lake in the park.’ I don’t think he is joking about that, but luckily I do have a spray in my bag.
I pull on some gardening gloves and get stuck in pulling up some weeds from the rear garden.
‘You don’t want to ruin your outfit, please leave it to us,’ says Dimitri. ‘By the way, you look nice,’ he adds, flicking his eyes over my knee-length white cotton dress; my hair is loose and over my shoulders this morning.
‘Thank you.’ I almost add, ‘So do you,’ but as he is in his usual work gear, it doesn’t seem appropriate.
An hour later, Phoebe appears outside as a young woman is walking up the slight incline of the road, holding a young boy’s hand. She has almond eyes, and her blonde-highlighted hair is tied back. Phoebe introduces her granddaughter Sofia when I join them.
‘Nice to meet you,’ she tells me outside the gate. ‘And this here is Jason.’ She introduces the adorable little boy who politely says hello. ‘I hear you will be my grandmother’s new neighbour,’ she says warmly.
‘Eventually, yes.’ I gesture to the house next door, with the half-constructed roof and surrounded by scaffolding. ‘And it’s nice to meet you too. I’m Claudia.’
‘Gaia,’ says the little boy as he greets his great-grandmother and runs into her arms. She speaks to him in Greek and covers him with kisses.
A short while later, we take the walk down the sloping road to Sofia’s car that is parked at the bottom. Phoebe insists I sit in the front seat next to Sofia, whilst she sits in the back with Jason.
Sofia is so easy to talk to, I feel like I have made another new friend, although she tells me she lives around a forty-minute drive away in a small village.
‘I invited my grandmother to live with us, but she loves Roda. I cannot say I blame her.’ She smiles. ‘I would like to live around here too, but we could never afford a house here,’ she tells me, which makes me feel guilty for having the means to buy a holiday home here. I wonder if I will be viewed with disdain, like those people who buy second homes in Cornwall and the Lake District, forcing prices up and the locals out?
I try not to think about that as we turn out of the village. As we drive through tiny hamlets, Jason is chattering excitedly and pointing things out in the distance. He laughs at a braying donkey, its head hanging over a fence in someone’s front garden.
Soon enough we are on the open road passing verdant fields and rolling hills with farmhouses dotted in the distance. Eventually we arrive at a pleasant-looking park, fronted with wrought-iron gates and a giant palm tree.
It’s so beautiful inside the park, with tall trees and grasses surrounding a large lake, the sound of birdsong gently trilling in the trees. Sofia has bought a small scooter out for Jason and he whizzes along the footpath ahead of us so fast that she often has to call out to him to wait. After ambling along the lakeside in the beautiful sunshine, we arrive at a picnic area of wooden tables shaded by trees, where Phoebe produces a Tupperware box filled with cold meats and olives, along with bread, and some cheese and spinach parcels and sets out the picnic. The sound of water can be heard from a small waterfall rushing over some rocks.
‘Gosh this is lovely, it’s like being in the middle of a forest,’ I remark.
‘It is a lovely way to switch off I think after a busy week, after this we can walk through the botanical area. There are so many different plants, medicinal ones too,’ Sofia informs me.
‘We have some lovely parks in England, of course, but we don’t often get this kind of weather to enjoy them.’
‘I cannot imagine the sun not shining, especially in the summer,’ says Sofia. ‘The winter can be wet though, which is of course the reason for all these glorious plants.’ She glances around at palm trees, lush plants with colourful flowers, and tall, leafy shrubs.
We dine on delicious food, and I bring out the cakes from Thea’s bakery, which are gratefully received. Jason’s eyes light up, but Sofia tells him he can enjoy cake only after he has eaten some of the picnic food.
When we finish, Jason gleefully eats his sponge cake with the jelly sweet on top, before Phoebe takes him to the water’s edge to feed the ducks with some leftover bread.
‘Are you married?’ I find myself asking Sofia as we sip lemonade, wondering why her husband isn’t accompanying her on a Sunday visit to the park.
‘Yes, but my husband works shifts,’ she explains. ‘He is an ambulance driver, and sometimes he is required to work on a Sunday. But I am used to it now.’ She shrugs. ‘I guess people get sick every day of the week, but the job pays quite well.’
‘Do you go out to work?’ I ask her.
‘I used to. But you know, when Jason was born I decided to stay at home until he went to school. I was thinking of returning to work, he has now just started, but then…’ She rolls her hand over her stomach.
‘You’re pregnant?’
‘Almost three months. My grandmother is superstitious, so probably would not tell you yet. Next week, three months pass, so I am sure she will let you know then.’
‘I’m so happy for you.’
‘Thank you, Claudia. I am happy you move next to my grandmother, she gets a little lonely since my grandfather has died and doesn’t have a lot of close friends, although she does chat to the neighbours. She is no longer friends with Eliza across the road.’
‘Yes, I’ve seen her outside her house and we have waved to each other, but we haven’t officially met.’
Just then, Phoebe returns from the lake with Jason, so Sofia changes the subject and once more I wonder why the two women are no longer on speaking terms.
An hour later, having taken another stroll, we make our way back to the car park.
‘Thank you for inviting me today, I’ve had such a lovely time,’ I say as we drive back towards Roda. Jason is playing with a little windmill I bought him from the café shop in the park after we had nipped in to use the loo.
‘That was very kind of you,’ Sofia says as we drive. ‘He can plant it in his garden for when the wind blows. It will remind him of the sea near his great-grandmother’s house.’
Arriving back in the village, Sofia heads inside to have tea with her grandmother and I thank her once more, before nipping next door to check on progress, but there is no one to be found.
‘Hello,’ I call throughout the building, my voice bouncing off the empty walls. Walking into the kitchen area, I come face to face with Dimitri and almost jump out of my skin.
‘Oh, my goodness, I thought there was no one here.’ I can hear my own heart thumping through my chest.
‘Would that be a good thing, as you are paying us to do a job?’ He smiles.
‘No, I guess not, but you did say you would only be here for the morning. Where are Yiannis and the boys?’ I ask.
‘The boys would never work on a Sunday,’ Dimitri tells me, as he wipes his hands on a rag. ‘I persuaded Yiannis to come in for a few hours this morning whilst his wife visits church. He must be home for the family meal though, or his life will not be worth living.’ He smiles.
‘Of course, I’d almost forgotten. Maybe it’s because Sundays are not really days of rest back home, although I guess builders don’t work on a Sunday there either. Honestly, thanks, I really appreciate you being here,’ I tell him gratefully.
Glancing upwards, I can see more wooden beams crisscrossing the ceiling and that it is almost finished. ‘I can’t believe I never even questioned you being here today, it being Sunday. Thank you. I owe you a drink,’ I say brightly.
‘Okay. I know somewhere nice,’ says Dimitri, wrapping some tools in a canvas cloth.
‘What, right now?’
‘Yes. I could use a cold drink. Unless you mean, like out for a drink, as in a date.’ He raises an eyebrow.
‘Absolutely not,’ I almost shout, then feel rude for feeling so appalled by the idea. ‘I mean, I appreciate you coming out today, so I think a drink is in order. Lead the way.’ Did Dimitri really think that I was asking him out?
Dimitri can’t seem to keep the smile from his face as we walk down the road and turn left, rather than right towards the main street of shops and restaurants. Passing several village houses and a small supermarket, we eventually arrive at a whitewashed bar with several dark wooden tables and chairs on a terrace outside. An old wooden rowing boat is filled with flowers and creates a welcoming feel.
Inside, I take in the interior of rough white stone walls, some photos on the wall. It is quite busy with families out relaxing and sharing a drink together.
‘This is our local bar,’ he explains as we take a seat on two bar stools and Dimitri speaks to the barman in Greek and orders us a drink, which I quickly take some euros from my purse and pay for.
‘This is nice,’ I say. Glancing around as we both sip an ice-cold Corfiot beer, I notice black-and-white pictures of the old port are dotted around the walls, along with a ship’s wheel. An old wooden rowing boat is filled with flowers and looks brilliant against the white walls.
‘The people in the village gather here. Maybe it could be your new place, do you call it a local in England?’
’Yes, that’s right.’ The thought that I could visit regularly getting to know people here excites me. ‘Do you have evenings out in the main street too?’
‘Of course.’ He smiles. ‘But most of those shops and bars close when the tourist season ends. This is for the villagers all year round.’
As we chat, several people pass and say hello to Dimitri and nod and smile at me. When Dimitri drains the last of his drink, he stands ready to leave.
‘Well, thank you, Claudia. That was exactly what I needed after a hard morning’s work, but now I must go.’
Feeling mellow with the drink, I could have happily sat here for longer with another beer, chatting to him, but it’s clear Dimitri needs to leave. I order myself another drink and take it outside to sit at a table that gives a side view of the beach in the distance, and the church across the road. I watch Dimitri head back towards the street of my villa, remembering he is staying at his aunt’s house looking after her dog. I suddenly wish that my house was completed. Maybe then I could have strolled home with him, perhaps invited him inside for coffee. I remind myself that he is my builder, and that even if he was single, which I don’t actually know if he is, it would be a total mistake to mix business with pleasure. Not to mention the fact that romance is definitely not something I am looking for. Far better to admire him from a distance, I think, a bit like my favourite movie actor.
‘May I join you?’ a man asks, jolting me from my daydream. I can’t help glancing around at the empty tables and wondering why he has chosen to sit opposite me.
‘Sorry, I am just being friendly. I never noticed you here before.’ He holds his hands up and I feel rude for thinking he might be about to hit on me. ‘My name is Eric.’
Eric, an older guy, who is definitely something of a silver fox with warm-brown eyes, shakes me by the hand.
‘Nice to meet you, I’m Claudia,’ I tell him.
‘You have French heritage? Claudia is a French name, I believe?’
‘No, I think my father just liked the name. Mum seems to think he had a thing for an actress called Claudia.’ I smile.
‘So are you here on holiday?’ he asks as he sips his beer.
‘Yes,’ I tell him. ‘But I usually head down to the main strip near the beach.’
I don’t feel it necessary to tell everyone I meet about my half-renovated villa with a cement mixer in the yard.
Eric is so easy to talk to and the time quickly passes by. He tells me about the village and how he has lived here all of his life, and that not many tourists frequent the village bar, even though the beer is better.
‘Well, I can’t disagree with you,’ I say, finishing the last of my delicious local beer. ‘It was good to meet you, Eric, maybe I will see you around.’
‘Maybe you will.’ He smiles. ‘Enjoy the rest of your holiday.’
‘Thanks, bye, Eric.’
That evening in the apartment, I sit and watch the sunset on the balcony and feel blessed to have met some lovely people today. Hopefully, tomorrow it will be full steam ahead with the roof of the house and we will begin to see some real progress. It’s hard to envisage the finished product, as the villa currently resembles a building site. There are brushes, buckets and lengths of wood everywhere as well as a cement mixer. I think about the blue wooden, crumbling back door with a metal insert that I would like refurbished; thinking about it, I must rescue it from the tip. I recall Dimitri teasing me when he said would I ask him out on a date, and despite everything I close my eyes and imagine how it would feel to be wined and dined by him, at some romantic restaurant overlooking the sea, twinkling lights everywhere. I give my head a shake and flick on the movie channel to an early George Clooney film, where he is in a clinch with an impossibly beautiful lead actress. Far better to have an active imagination when it comes to romance. That way you will never get your heart broken.