Chapter 21
We turn right at the bottom of the road as the orange sun slowly begins its descent. As we reach the white church overlooking the grassy area close to the apartment, we say our goodbyes. Dimitri tells me he is meeting a friend at a restaurant on the main street, even though I never asked.
‘That sounds nice.’
‘It’s better than spending the evening alone.’
His eyes lock with mine and I feel that familiar fuzzy feeling.
‘Well, have a nice evening. And thanks for responding to my scream.’
I suddenly feel a bit daft; I’m an independent woman who has bought a house in Greece for goodness’ sake. Why on earth should I be bothered by a spider? They don’t bother me back home.
‘Anytime.’ He smiles, still making no attempt to move. ‘Enjoy the rest of your evening too.’ He lingers for a split second, before he walks off.
‘Thanks, and don’t drink too much,’ I call after him, before biting my lip and wondering why I said that, coming across like his mother, but he just laughs. ‘I mean, hangovers can be costly, as less work gets done,’ I tell him in an effort to explain myself.
I study him for a minute as he walks away, watching his confident, yet easy-going stride and I’m mortified when he turns around and clocks me watching him. He raises a hand as he continues on, and I dash inside my apartment.
Once inside, I grab a drink of water and curse myself for letting Dimitri have this effect on me. Maybe if I google local paint shops it will cool me down.
I discover one in Sidari and decide I will head there on the bus tomorrow and buy some paint to refresh the gate and the garden bench. Maybe I can distract myself from thinking about the bigger jobs if I tackle the small ones. I might also look for some interior shops to get some ideas for the finished project too.
I flick through the TV channels back at the apartment, and find a channel showing nineties films in English, and settle down to watch an action film with Nicolas Cage. Deciding to wake early in the morning, I resist any more wine and sip a bottle of water, until my eyes feel heavy. An hour later, the television is nothing more than a drone in the background, and I drift into a sleep.
The sun is up early, and I shower and take my usual morning coffee on the balcony and stare across at the view that never fails to lift my spirits. The church bell is gently ringing out on the hour and I realise it is eight o’clock, and the building work will not begin for another hour. Before I do anything this morning, I will head out to the local supermarket and grab a few provisions. Walking along, taking in the sights of the early morning risers taking a walk, and vans dropping food off in shops, I feel the breeze through my hair as I near the sea.
‘Kalimera.’ Kostas is outside his gyros shop, rolling out the sunshade for the outside eating area.
‘Kalimera, Kostas. How are you?’ I ask as I walk past.
‘I am very good.’ He smiles. ‘You?’
‘Yes, I will be, thanks. I won’t lie, I am slightly concerned about the progress of the house build.’
‘You mean with Yiannis having the accident? Yes, I hear about that from Dimitri. I get the feeling he will work hard to put things right,’ he says and I wonder what Dimitri has told him. ‘So how is Evie?’ he asks, setting out some plastic tables and chairs.
‘She’s very well, just back from a romantic weekend with her husband,’ I can’t resist telling him and he smiles.
‘I am glad she is happy. She always looked, maybe a little sad,’ he says, and I can’t help thinking that he wouldn’t have minded being the one to put a smile on her face.
‘I think she had a lot on her mind. You know how it is, a busy family life and a business to run.’
He nods before wishing me a good day.
Coming out of the small supermarket with my bags a short while later, I bump into the young woman from the house at the end of the road.
‘Good morning.’ She smiles brightly. ‘I am glad I ran into you. Are you free for that coffee? You can take that look around the house,’ she offers. ‘Oh, and my name is Ria.’
‘I’m Claudia. And, yes, thanks, that would be wonderful. I’m heading to a paint shop later and I may be able to get some inspiration from your house, if you don’t mind.’
‘I would be flattered.’ She smiles again. ‘I just have to go in here for a few things.’ She gestures to the general store. ‘Then I will walk back with you.’
She reappears quickly from the shop and we take the short walk back together to her house.
‘Why did you choose to buy a villa in Roda? Are you familiar with the area?’ Ria asks as we walk.
‘Yes, we had many family holidays here. I have wonderful memories playing on the beach with my brother and with friends I made at the hotel.’
Glancing at the seafront hotel that has a different name these days, a flood of happy memories come rushing back. I was eight years old the first time we came to Roda, and I remember my mum pulling a face when the waiter served us octopus, although maybe the story stays in my mind as it has been retold so many times at family gatherings. Mum thought the calamari was a type of onion ring and almost passed out when she realised what it was. ‘My palate was never that exotic,’ she would laugh. ‘The most adventurous thing I’d eaten was a beef bourguignon on one of our cruises.’
‘Are you from this area?’ I ask as we pass the church.
‘A few miles from here, in a very quiet village. I wanted somewhere closer to the beach for our children and a little livelier for them to make friends, although it does go very quiet when the tourist season ends,’ she informs me as we approach the beginning of the road. ‘The house was at a bargain price, so we couldn’t let it go. It was maybe in the same state as the one you have bought.’
‘That is interesting. But I agree, it is all about location, which is exactly why I was drawn to the house.’
The thought that her house was in a similar state encourages me and I can hardly wait to get inside and have a look.
Ria puts the key in the door, and the first thing I notice is the bright, white painted hallway and the beautiful green and white mosaic floor tiles.
‘Is that an original floor?’ I ask, admiring it.
‘Not at all. It’s a very clever floor covering.’ She smiles at my reaction as I bend down and stroke the patterned floor covering.
‘It looks amazing, just like the real thing.’
I follow her into a lounge and gasp. It’s simply stunning with white walls once more and teal-coloured curtains. A sofa in a soft mustard-matching colour dominates the room, and a dark-wood bookcase holds a few stylish ornaments and a couple of well-placed reading books.
I follow her into the kitchen to discover gorgeous cream units and oak worktops that have a slightly curved edge.
‘Olive wood,’ she tells me before I can ask. ‘My father-in-law saves wood from old trees in his olive grove. I guess I am very lucky that my husband is a carpenter.’
‘He is? Would he like to work on my house?’ I’m half-joking, although I guess I am trying to gauge a reaction.
‘He is very busy with his work at the moment. He works for a large furniture company,’ she tells me. ‘Although, maybe when your villa is finished he might make you one or two bespoke pieces.’ She politely lets me know the idea of her husband doing any real renovating work is out of the question, and with two young children, I can’t say I blame her.
Upstairs, the style continues, mixing traditional Greek and modern. Dark wooden units contrast with pale walls, and a huge bed is covered in a pale-pink duvet cover and colourful tapestry cushions. The bathroom is natural-looking too, using neutral shades of earth and grey. A glass sink against a stone background gives it a rustic, yet cosy feel.
‘Thanks for showing me around, your villa looks wonderful. If I can get my place to look half as good as this, I will be a happy woman.’
The children are happily playing with some Duplo-style bricks and eating a biscuit as Ria pops the kettle on.
‘You are welcome, and I am sure your place will be beautiful too. Just take your time with the interior design. The main thing is getting the building into shape.’
‘Of course.’ I smile brightly. ‘Fingers crossed there will be no more problems.’
‘I hope these are okay?’ She pops a tea bag into water and I remind myself to bring some Yorkshire Tea over with me next time.
‘Fine, thank you.’
Drinking tea from a stylish mug, Ria tells me she has lived in the street for three years.
‘It was a challenge doing a house renovation and being pregnant, but it was the best move I ever made. It is so nice being close to the beach. And the neighbours are lovely. They think the world of the children, especially the older people.’
I suddenly think how the years are nudging by, and my next birthday I will be thirty-four. I have never really thought about being a mother, but then we always think we have more time I guess, and in the meantime I am enjoying being an aunt to George.
‘It will be nice to have someone of a similar age around, even for a few months a year,’ says Ria, kindly. ‘Oh, and I am friends with Dimitri’s aunt too. She and her husband are in their forties and really nice people. Dimitri is a great guy too, but I guess you already know that.’
She looks at me over the rim of her floral cup.
‘I don’t really know him on a personal level, although I know he is a hard worker. And, on that note, I should probably be off, work will be starting soon and I need to crack the whip before I catch the bus into Sidari,’ I tell her and she laughs. ‘Thank you so much for the tea, and showing me your home. It really is beautiful.’
‘Thank you. And good luck with the renovation.’
She shows me out and I nip to the bakery, before arriving at the house at the same time as Dimitri and the young workers, and they wish me a good morning. The young men are yawning, and I wonder whether they were out again last night drinking.
‘Ready for a hard day’s work?’ I ask breezily. ‘I have bought you all some coffee and a Danish pastry. Keep the caffeine and sugar levels up.’
‘Wonderful. Thank you. The coffee I will take, the pastry maybe when I have done some work, burn off a few calories first,’ says Dimitri as the young men take the proffered breakfast gratefully.
While the men work hard and the cement mixer whirrs happily, I tell Dimitri that I am off to Sidari in search of some blue paint for the rear gate.
‘There is no need. I actually have some,’ he offers. ‘Unless, of course, you want to go there.’
‘I do actually. There’s a shop I want to look at to get some ideas for the bathroom, it’s on the bus route back.’
Ria’s bathroom, a perfect mix of old and new, has inspired me so much that I want to pick up the first of the accessories. Even though the finished bathroom is a long way off, I can work them around the shades I choose.
Dimitri offers to drive me there, before thinking twice and saying there is maybe far too much work to do here at the house and I don’t disagree with him, however much I would have liked that.
Descending from the bus half an hour later, I find Sidari is busy with shoppers, locals and tourists alike. The smell of garlic and BBQ meats drifts towards me as I walk past a café where a trio of old men are playing dominoes and drinking coffee at an outside table.
Setting the satnav on my phone, I make my way down a side street, passing graffiti-covered buildings away from the main drag. Passing a yellow-painted hotel with ivy-covered walls and metal balconies, I see the Venetian influence in the area. Looking up, I notice a couple sitting on the terrace of a tangerine-painted apartment drinking coffee and watching the world go by.
Walking past a leather shop, displaying heavy coats and jackets in their window, reminds me that the winters can be a little cool here, but probably nothing compared to the winters we have back home. I pass a bakery, and the smell of something sweet and delicious drifts towards my nostrils as someone opens the door. Presently, I am standing in front of the metal sign of the hardware store.
The guy in the store is super friendly and a short while later, armed with the paint for the gate and some sample pots for the bathroom, I make my way towards the bus stop, stopping en route for an orange juice.
Seated at an outside table, I observe the steady trickle of holidaymakers, pale skinned and just arrived, browsing clothing stores and reminding me that the full-on season is just around the corner. A waiter is standing outside a restaurant, chatting to a trio of attractive young girls as he gestures to a menu board and they head inside as he scans the road for other potential diners. Already, it looks busier here than it was a few days ago and I have a sudden dread that the majority of the work being completed before I leave is nothing but a dream.
Finishing my drink, I catch the bus back to Roda, stopping at the large bathroom showroom, sandwiched between a bed warehouse and a tile merchants. I take photographs of the bathroom displays, before purchasing some new soap dishes and a hand wash dispenser. I hope I can achieve something as stylish as the bathroom in Ria’s house.
I’m soon seated on the bus and passing the familiar sights whilst imagining what it must be like to live in Greece, spending days after work down at the beach, with a handsome husband, and two perfect children, before smiling to myself and realising that it is just a fantasy. I mean, does anyone live a life straight out of a romantic movie? Even beautiful people have to deal with laundry and all the boring bits. I remind myself how lucky I am to be the owner of a property here, and have been able to pay off a chunk of the mortgage on the apartment back home. I try not to think about the timescale of the finished refurb, however frustrating it might be, and focus on the positive. I am truly blessed and remind myself that there are people not so fortunate, as the bus trundles on.
Back at the apartment, I quickly drop off my purchases before taking the short walk to the house. I arrive just as Dimitri is changing his shirt and I have to avert my eyes from staring at his impressive six-pack. It’s a hot day today and the men seem to be working at lightning speed, Dimitri barking orders at the young men; no wonder he is working up a sweat.
I’m thrilled to see the bedroom floor has been laid, and the remnants of the bathroom have been put into a new skip, the previous one having been removed.
‘My goodness, you have been busy. Can I get you anything?’ I offer, just as a beeping truck arrives, slowly making its way down the narrow street.
‘Some cold drinks would be good,’ he says, taking some money from his pocket. ‘And it looks as though your kitchen has arrived.’ He nods to the truck.
‘Oh wow. Yes, of course, I’ll grab some drinks. The kitchen is definitely something I can help with, especially the assembly of the kitchen units,’ I tell him, thinking of all those self-assembly cupboards I have managed to put together.
‘The units are fully assembled, they just need fixing to the floor and walls.’
‘Really? Well, that is going to save a lot of time.’
I walk to the shop with a spring in my step, knowing the kitchen will be assembled much more quickly than I anticipated if the units are complete. If the bathroom can be finished too, then maybe the external rendering is not quite so important, as long as it is eventually completed. Along with my dream balcony.
Laden down with cold drinks, and some tubs of Pringles, as I approach the villa I hear the sound of Dimitri shouting. Surely something else can’t have gone wrong? So much for the gouri hanging from the beams to bring good luck.
My heart sinks when I see Dimitri standing outside drenched in water, as the labourers frantically try and stem a fountain of water that is spurting from the ground.
‘Oh no, goodness, what’s happened?’ I ask in shock.
The noise has brought Phoebe out of her house. ‘They have hit a water pipe,’ she explains.
I take in the sight of water cascading everywhere and resist the urge to scream loudly at the sky.
Dimitri dashes inside to switch off the water at the mains, and even the sight of his wet T-shirt sticking to his body can’t quell my feeling of rising panic. The newly cemented front path has turned into a grey sludge as the men grapple with a cloth, trying to stem the flow of water, and shouting in Greek.
All the positivity I felt just a few minutes ago has drained away like the water that is running down the path, and I want to cry when suddenly the pipe stops spurting water.
‘I can get the pipe replaced quickly.’ Dimitri takes his phone from his pocket and makes a call.
I place the drinks and Pringles onto a wall with a heavy heart, as Dimitri directs the delivery guys through the sludgy path to deposit the units into the kitchen.
‘Do not worry.’ Phoebe looks completely unruffled. ‘It is normal to have, what you might say, a few problems with a build. Some say it is good luck in a new house.’
‘Good luck? You must be kidding.’
‘You get the brush, I will bring the ouzo. This time it is for you.’ She winks as she heads inside her house.
As I look around my drowned villa, I think she might be right. I do need a drink.