Chapter 30
He saunters in like he’s in slow-mo, his arms swinging in a blue linen shirt with rolled-up sleeves. A light breeze ruffles his hair and his easy, confident swagger turns everyone’s heads. Including Niki’s.
‘Holy Mother Mary,’ she says under her breath.
‘Suddenly feeling religious?’ I tease.
‘A face like that proves Intelligent Design.’
I laugh. ‘Or maybe it proves he got lucky with his genes?’
She shakes her head. ‘Do you guys know him? He keeps looking over.’
‘He’s the Best Man.’
She raises her eyebrows. ‘And you’re the Best Lady …’
‘No,’ I tell her firmly. ‘He’s not a nice person.’ She makes a so what? face. ‘And he’s got a girlfriend.’ It’s not strictly true, but it’s the quickest way to stop Niki’s fevered imagination.
‘Fair enough,’ she says.
Before he reaches us, he gets body-checked by a grinning waiter who pulls him into a massive bear hug.
There’s lots of friendly shouting about why he hasn’t visited in so long, and everyone is generally behaving like Mark is a long-lost friend.
Mark nods in our direction and says something to his new bestie, who clicks his fingers and a few seconds later, a young waiter hurries over carrying two chairs.
Niki frowns. ‘He speaks perfect Greek. Why do they keep calling him The Italian?’
‘His father was from Sicily.’
This seems to mean something to her.
‘Don’t tell me you know him?’
‘No, I’ve never seen him before in my life.’
A chair has been put at either end of the table, and Yan, unencumbered by over-friendly staff, makes it over to the one closest to us. It means Mark will be sitting as far from me as possible, which helps me relax.
‘What time do you call this?’ I ask. ‘It’s gone ten o’clock.’
‘It’s not my fault. Mark keeps bumping into people he knows. It’s taken us ten minutes to walk five metres from where the taxi dropped us off.’
‘How does he know so many people?’
‘From his time in the army. You basically meet every guy the same age as you when you join.’
Niki nods. ‘Yes, it’s the same with Mario – it’s like one giant boys’ network. If there was something similar for women, I’d have been promoted twice as fast.’
‘Oh, bloody hell,’ groans Yan. ‘Did I accidentally sit on the women’s libbers’ table?’
‘Shut up,’ I tell him good-naturedly.
The meze courses are never-ending, and so is the wine. Somehow, my glass keeps getting refilled, and now I’ve lost track of how much I’ve drunk. It can’t be that much, though, because I’m still waiting for the alcohol to take the edge off the tension brought on by Mark’s arrival.
A live bouzouki band strikes up to universal cheers from diners – the place is still packed even though it’s gone midnight.
There’s some inevitable seat swapping, and at one point, Niki goes to chat to Tig at the other end of the table, and Mario comes over to us.
A little while later, I’m scanning the table to see if there’s any white wine left when I notice Niki and Mark are deep in conversation. I can’t tell what they’re talking about, but they look serious. But when I check a couple of minutes later, their expressions are back to normal.
Cypriots have a habit of seeming angry when discussing the most mundane things.
Rich once asked me if I was okay after I got off the phone with my gran and I’d explained that the subject of our heated discussion was the best way to make an authentic Greek coffee without the proper copper-bottomed pot.
Yan appears with a fresh bottle of wine, and the odd interaction between Niki and Mark is forgotten.
Once the wine has been consumed, a round of zivania arrives, and I silently groan. It’s on the house, courtesy of the owner, who, of course, knows Mark. I hate the taste, but it would be rude not to drink it, and I’m on holiday, after all.
I down a shot, then reach for my wine glass and almost slip off my chair.
‘Easy, Nella.’
I turn to see Mark. He pulls out the chair next to me and sits down.
His jean-clad thigh is only inches from the bare skin of mine. These shorts feel way too short. Nervously, I cross and uncross my legs, inadvertently drawing his attention.
Leg man, are we?
I sip my wine and let the silence stretch between us, unable to tear my eyes from his forearms. How are they already sun-kissed? Wasn’t it dark when he landed?
‘We haven’t spoken all night,’ he says eventually.
‘Really? I hadn’t noticed.’
We both know I’m lying, but he lets it pass.
‘And I’m not going to see you for a couple of days.’
I perk up. ‘Why’s that?’
‘I’m away overnight visiting people.’
‘Oh, okay, have fun,’ I say.
‘Your cousin is very friendly.’
Is he making polite conversation or is this what he wants to talk about?
‘Niki?’
He nods but doesn’t elaborate.
I can’t resist explaining why she was so friendly. ‘She thinks your face proves the existence of God.’ I giggle. ‘Which is saying something because she’s a biology professor and literally teaches evolution.’
He smiles and frowns at the same time. ‘How much have you had to drink?’
I reach for my wine glass. ‘Including this one?’
He nods and watches me as I drain it.
‘No idea,’ I reply grinning, inordinately proud of myself. I’m so funny when I’m drunk.
‘Niki and Mario are the kids of your dad’s younger brother?’
‘Huh?’ It’s such a non-sequitur, I’m not sure I’ve heard him right.
He seems to be waiting for me to reply, so I squint hard through the alcohol fog and try to concentrate. ‘Yes, Uncle Tasos, their dad, is my dad’s brother.’
I reach for my glass before remembering it’s empty.
Maybe there’s some zivania somewhere?
Mark takes a pitcher of water and fills an empty tumbler.
Handing it to me, he says. ‘You’ll thank me in the morning.’
‘Why? What are you planning on doing to me tonight? The same thing you did at Yan’s party?’
Oops.
I must be very drunk because I just brought up the very thing I didn’t want to talk about.
He looks stricken, and it takes him an age to find his voice.
‘Is that how you saw it? Something I did to you?’
His honey-coloured eyes desperately search mine. Part of me is pleased he’s so horrified, but my conscience won’t let him take the blame for it.
‘No. You probably don’t remember because you’ve had a million girls since then, but I was the instigator.’
‘I remember,’ he says softly. ‘But as the more experienced participant, I shouldn’t have responded. I should have laughed it off.’
‘Do you have any idea what that would have done to my self-esteem?’
‘You’d have got over it.’
‘I’m not saying I’m glad it happened, but I don’t blame you. What I did feel angry about was that you fucked off and left me carrying the can.’
‘I didn’t know,’ he says quietly.
‘You didn’t know what?’
‘That someone saw, and you covered for me.’
My hands curl into fists as my temper flares. ‘A guy literally barged in and saw us.’
‘But he couldn’t have known who we were.’
I stare at him, incredulous. How much has he drunk? ‘He might not have known who you were, but I was the host’s sister – of course he bloody knew me. Then Yan arrived after you left, and I had to tell him something.’
He meets my angry stare with conciliatory eyes. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’d had to tell this big lie. That must have been hard for you.’
‘It’s fine,’ I tell him dismissively. And far too little, far too late.
I want him to leave now, but he’s not showing any signs of moving.
Then, as luck would have it, the bouzouki plays the opening notes of a kalamatiano that Tig wants to dance at the wedding, She waves me to the dance floor, and I get up.
‘Well, it was great chatting with you,’ I say, with fake gusto. ‘Have fun wherever you’re going. And feel free to spend as many nights away as you want.’