Epilogue
Three years later …
‘I can’t believe they’re twenty-one.’ Frankie leaned back against Gav’s arm as she watched her sons play football down on the beach with a crowd of their friends.
They were as suntanned as the locals, but given the fact that they spent as much time on Skelidos as they could these days, that was no great surprise.
‘I think Josh has his eye on Almena,’ Stella said, slanting mischievous eyes at Corinna across the table as she sat on Angelo’s knee and spooned paella onto a plate for him.
He shifted her slightly in his lap with a hidden grimace, clearly unwilling to tell her to move because her enormous baby bump was in danger of breaking his legs.
‘My daughter is a law entirely unto herself.’ Corinna laughed good-naturedly. ‘God help him.’
They’d gathered on the beach terrace at Villa Valentina to celebrate the twins’ birthday, just as they gathered there for many other occasions these days.
Winnie appeared carrying a tray of glittering rose-pink G&Ts and handed them around for a toast.
‘Mayor first, of course,’ she said, placing a glass in front of Panos.
He took the duties of his office seriously, checking the colour and taste of the gin for accuracy even though there was really no need.
Frankie and Gav had the distillery running like clockwork, as indeed they did the whole place.
Villa Valentina had earned itself an enviable reputation amongst discerning travellers as an exclusive place to unwind and recharge your batteries surrounded by fresh food, dawn yoga and bedrooms to die for.
Gav’s DIY skills had slowly and sympathetically pulled the bed and breakfast from shabby to boutique, all whilst retaining its understated grand-old-lady appeal.
‘Will you give up work for a while when the baby comes?’ Corinna asked Stella, who looked shiftily at Angelo.
‘Yes,’ he said, replying for her at the same time as she said, ‘Maybe.’
Stella grinned at him. ‘I might take a week or two off.’
‘Vitalis Wine and Spirits can cope without you, my love, much as you hate the idea.’
Stella and Angelo spent their time hopping between their home on the island and Athens, running the company they’d founded together sourcing specialist drinks from around the world and turning them into international brands. The only drink they would never dream of selling was Skelidos gin.
Winnie slid into her place next to Jesse, her wedding ring winking in the sunshine.
‘OK?’ He kissed her shoulder. ‘Did he go down?’
‘Out like a light,’ Winnie said. She’d just rocked their round-limbed, dark-haired baby boy to sleep in his pushchair in the cool shade of Villa Valentina’s now discreetly air-conditioned reception.
The baby had arrived in their lives a few months ago, turning their slow idyllic life on the olive farm upside down in the best possible way.
These days Jesse was as proud of his wife’s blossoming jewellery design business as he was of his own high-flying career in the art world, but their best days of all were the long lazy ones spent lying on their backs in the olive grove with the baby kicking his legs like a frog between them, and the hot, sensual one-night stands tangled together under the cool sheets.
‘I know it’s self-indulgent,’ Frankie said, hushing everyone, ‘but I’d like to raise a glass to my boys. Our boys,’ she corrected herself, looking at Gav. ‘I can’t believe how quickly time has passed, and I’m proud to death of the men they’ve become.’
‘To Josh and Elliott,’ Gav said, choked up.
Everyone raised their glasses, and then Panos stood and cleared his throat.
‘I have something of great importance to say.’ A hush fell over the group as he lifted his glass and scrutinised it. ‘This gin is absolutely, exactly perfect.’
Everyone laughed.
‘Too right. It’s my baby,’ Frankie said.
‘It’s my plants,’ Angelo said, as if that was clearly the reason.
‘It’s my labels,’ Winnie insisted of her by now well-established Bad Fairy branding.
‘It’s my rigorous devotion to taste testing,’ Stella sighed into her juice.
‘Maybe it’s a bit of all of us,’ Winnie said, gazing fondly over at the villa.
They’d come here years ago in search of adventure, not knowing what form it might take, or how long it would last.
How lucky they were, or perhaps they’d made their own luck.
Either way, the garden full of healthy arbutus plants seemed to have restored the island’s tranquillity and good fortune, and Villa Valentina continued to rest easy in the Skelidos sunshine, presiding over the bay, ready to provide safe harbour and escape to those in need.