Chapter 7
SEVEN
Stepping off the plane is like walking into a hot oven and I squint at the bright sun, before popping my sunglasses on.
This is what it’s all about, I think to myself, taking a quick selfie at the bottom of the plane stairs, the brilliant blue sky in the background in complete contrast to the grey sky on the journey out here.
A woman behind me tuts loudly, but I guess I did come to an abrupt stop at the end of the stairs, and she is balancing a baby on her hip, so I mumble an apology. Going on holiday with kids must be so stressful.
Santorini Airport is buzzing with excitement and I join the queue for passport control, along with the other passengers. In a short while though I will be stretched out on a sunlounger, sipping something ice cold, and the thought of it keeps me going as the queue continues at a snail’s pace.
The scent of suntan lotion and perfume mingle in the air as I squeeze my way towards the baggage carousel to retrieve my suitcase.
Two women, maybe in their early sixties, are laughing loudly, one of them swirling a hand-held fan in front of her face. She looks vaguely familiar, but I can’t quite place her. Maybe she just has one of those faces.
I find myself wondering what their story is. Are they old or new friends? Are they happily married, or off escaping an unhappy marriage for a week in the sun? Perhaps they have become newly divorced or widowed and are kicking up their heels having the time of their lives?
I have always had a vivid imagination. In fact, my schoolteacher once told me that I had the potential to become an author, but maybe that was down to the creative excuses I would invent for not handing my homework in on time.
Retrieving my suitcase I head outside, where a driver is holding my name up on a board. I climb inside the white taxi and the air con blasts a welcome breeze all over me.
‘Is it your first time in Santorini?’ asks the amiable middle-aged driver as we head out of the airport.
‘Yes, it is. I’m attending a wedding in Fira,’ I tell him.
‘Ah Fira.’ He nods. ‘A most beautiful place. Very popular with tourists.’
‘I believe so, although if it’s as pretty as it looks in the brochures I can understand why.’
We travel the rest of the journey in silence as I take in my surroundings, the quietness punctuated by an occasional comment from the driver, when he points out a place of interest. An olive oil factory here, a winery there and more than one church perched on a hill.
As the taxi driver negotiates bends and we climb higher, I am soon glancing down to a jumble of white buildings dotted with blue domes with the sparkling sea in the distance. As we descend the road and head to the village of Perissa, I can feel the excitement build in the pit of my stomach.
I had already paid for the taxi in advance, but I tip the driver when he unloads my hefty suitcase from the boot, and he thanks me warmly.
Standing outside the block of apartments that is literally across the road from a black sand beach, as most of the beaches are it being a volcanic island, I stand for a second and take in the view before I head inside.
Tasha and Owen will be staying in the hotel in Fira where the wedding is taking place, before heading off to a secluded island for a few days. I’m hoping I can take a few photos of the hotel that will look amazing on my social media platforms.
After being given the keys to my apartment, a white-painted room with pine furniture, I shower and change, then head out to a nearby bar and order myself a long, freezing cold beer and some halloumi fries.
It’s late afternoon, but I want to save my appetite for a delicious dinner later at one of the many restaurants that line the road.
I give Mum a quick call to tell her I have arrived, before I ring Lulu. Gran was shouting in the background that I must remember to use a high sun factor, what with my fair skin, and I promised her I will.
‘I can’t wait for you to get here tomorrow,’ I tell Lulu, video calling and panning the phone around to show her my surroundings.
‘Oh wow, me neither. I’m finishing at midday on Friday, but my flight won’t land until about eight Greek time,’ says Lulu.
‘That’s fine. We can have dinner and a glass of wine and watch the sun go down.’
‘That sounds perfect.’ She sighs with pleasure. ‘Just the one glass though, we have a wedding to attend the following morning remember,’ she says.
‘Okay, Mum,’ I tease.
‘Gosh, sorry what am I like?’ She laughs. ‘I definitely need to get out more in the evening, I sound like an old-aged pensioner.’
‘Saying that though, some of the pensioners who order stuff from the catalogue are right party animals,’ I remind her and she agrees.
I’ve lost count of the number of black dresses and sparkly jackets that were ordered on the phone line. They would tell me about their nights out, or forthcoming cruises, some of them in their eighties.
‘Maybe I’ve become boring. Working and looking after a family tends to do that,’ says Lulu. ’And my trips to the gym are hardly what you call exciting. I do the same exercises and chat to the same people. It’s all a bit samey.’
‘Then we need to something about that,’ I tell her. ‘And perhaps we could do something fun when you are here.’
‘Sounds good.’
I am determined that Lulu will have a great time. She could probably have men queueing up to take her out if she gave out the right signals, but she does not give any hint that she is interested in a relationship, her confidence having taken a battering when her ex left.
‘You’re probably right. I am going to let my hair down. I might even chuck my mobile phone in my suitcase, and only check it in the evening,’ she says.
‘That’s more like it,’ I tell her, although I admit to finding that a bit unlikely. I guess it can be hard to step off a treadmill that you have been on for a long time, but if you can’t relax on a Greek island, then you would struggle to do it anywhere.
As I arrive back at my apartment, a large group of people are checking in at reception and I wonder if any of them are wedding guests?
As I am about to head upstairs, I notice the two women from the airport sitting in the bar area sipping a drink. It finally dawns on me who the lady with the fan is, so I head over to say hello.
‘Excuse me, but are you Tasha’s aunt?’ I ask her. She looks at me for a second, before recognition dawns.
‘Oh, my goodness, it’s Mia, isn’t it? I haven’t seen you in years,’ she exclaims.
She places her fan on the table, before she stands and pulls me in for a hug.
Irene, Tasha’s aunt, was a regular visitor to her house when we were growing up. I remember her when I was a teenager, slipping us a cheeky drink at family parties. She was always such fun.
‘I’m surprised you recognised me as I’ve changed a bit,’ she says. ‘I’ve piled on the pounds, but I blame the menopause.’ She chuckles. ‘I was never able to lose the weight after that,’ she tells me.
She introduces me to her cousin, Patsy, dark haired and thin, who looks around a similar age, so they are both part of Tasha’s family, although I don’t recall her at any of Tasha’s family parties.
‘So, who are you here with?’ she asks, glancing around.
‘I’m on my own for now, but my friend is joining me tomorrow, so will be here for the wedding,’ I explain.
‘How lovely.’ She smiles. ‘Oh, Mia, it is so nice to see you. Will you join us for a drink?’
‘Of course I will.’ I smile.
‘I need something ice cold, although maybe not another beer or I will fall asleep. I’m sweating so much, my chins are like Niagara Falls,’ she says and her cousin bursts out laughing.
‘Chins? Oh, for goodness’ sake, Irene.’ Patsy rolls her eyes. ‘We all put on a bit of weight at our time of life.’
‘You haven’t,’ retorts Irene.
‘No, but my bladder must have shrunk to the size of a peanut, given all the trips I make to the loo. Talking of which.’
She excuses herself before popping to the toilet.
Looking at Irene it’s clear her appearance is a little different to the lady I last met over ten years ago, although she still has the most twinkling blue eyes that always had a look of mischief about them.
She was married back then, and I wonder if she still is?
No doubt I will find out during our time here.
Her cousin Patsy, just like Irene, is chatty and engaging and when she returns from the bathroom, the three of us chat away on an outdoor terrace like old friends.
Finishing our cooling drinks, we all agree on a siesta after the early morning flight, and arrange to meet in the hotel lobby at seven thirty and head out somewhere for dinner together.
I’m lying on the bed, where I quickly upload the photo of me at the foot of the plane steps with the sun in the background, to my socials. I then text Tasha to tell her I am here, when a second later she calls.
‘Tasha, hi! How are the nerves holding up?’ I ask my friend.
‘Not bad, thanks, although I haven’t been able to eat a thing,’ she admits. ‘How are the apartments?’
‘Oh, really comfortable. And my room has a sea view, I’m thrilled, thank you so much,’ I say gratefully.
I had taken a selfie of me, a strip of sea in the background and the black sand beach, earlier from my balcony, so I send it to her.
‘Amazing! I’m so pleased it’s okay.’
‘It’s more than okay, thank you. Oh, and I’ve just bumped into Irene in the reception area.’
‘Oh great, I’m going to give Irene a call after I’ve spoken to you.’
‘It was so lovely to meet her after all these years. I met Patsy too. We had a drink together and are meeting for dinner tonight,’ I tell her. ‘It brought back so many memories of us as teenagers, when we chatted,’ I say, a smile crossing my face.
‘Ah how nice. I love Irene, and Patsy too. I’m so glad Irene could make it as she hasn’t been too well lately,’ Tasha reveals.
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ I say. ‘Although she looked really well, if struggling a bit in this heat.’
‘She never did like it being too warm, which makes it so special that she has come out here for the wedding.’
‘Anyway, you had better call her soon as she said something about a siesta before we go out for dinner,’ I advise her.
‘That sounds lovely. I wish I was coming with you.’ She sighs. ‘But I have a meeting with the photographer later.’
‘Don’t worry, we will have lots of time to catch up as you prepare for the wedding. Oh, it’s all going to be wonderful. Santorini is just the most perfect place to get married.’ I sigh.
‘I know. Right, I’d better make that call to Irene. See you tomorrow.’
‘Bye, Tash, see you tomorrow.’
‘I think we are pretty spoilt for choice here,’ I say as Irene, Patsy and I stroll along the main street.
It’s just after eight, and the beachfront is full of people out for the evening. Shops displaying all manner of gifts, including the traditional blue and white colours of Greece, sit alongside restaurants offering mouth-watering food, including lamb kleftiko and fresh fish dishes.
We eventually settle on the Acropolis restaurant overlooking a quiet stretch of beach.
‘I’ll sleep well tonight,’ says Irene as we flop down onto some comfy chairs, the restaurant being a good walk away from the apartments.
‘You will be fine, you had a siesta,’ Patsy reminds her as a waiter appears with a menu.
‘So tell me what you have been up to all these years?’ Irene asks as we order a drink and Patsy lights up a vape.
‘Filthy habit,’ she apologises, ‘but it’s got me off the real thing.’
‘Not an awful lot to tell really,’ I admit. ‘I lived with someone for a while, but am currently single and living with my parents. Oh, and I have recently been made redundant.’
I might as well get it all out there now.
‘Oh, never mind, love, you’re young,’ says Irene positively. ‘Something will turn up soon, I’m sure.’
I tell her a little about my social media, but as I speak I realise how uncertain the future seems. My father’s words pop into my head once more, asking me why I don’t concentrate on my singing, which of course I will do, eventually.
I just really want to make a go of my social media.
If other people can succeed, why can’t I?
I do feel a little guilty over the sacrifices my parents made to pay for my singing lessons, but it is definitely something I will return to.
‘Things will work out,’ says Patsy as she puts her vape away. ‘I had no clue about what I wanted to do when I was young. I eventually became a dressmaker,’ she reveals. ‘Anyway, let’s get something to eat, I’m starved.’
We opt for a shared meze and dine on the most delicious selection of food, that includes lamb skewers, meatballs, some assorted dips and pitta bread. The lamb is melt-in-the-mouth tender, the bread soft and the salad crunchy and delicious.
Overlooking the black sand beach, we watch the sun slowly begin to drop as the sky turns darker.
‘It’s so lovely here, isn’t it?’ I sigh, sipping some chilled white wine and glancing around. The gentle sound of the rolling sea can be heard from across the road and I feel myself begin to relax.
A waiter catches my eye as he walks past, and gives me a lingering glance before smiling. I congratulate myself then on having made a bit of an effort this evening.
‘Oh, it is. So romantic too. Not that I am interested in that sort of thing anymore,’ says Irene firmly.
I am about to ask her if she is still married, when the waiter returns with a shot of ouzo for us all.
‘Cheers, everyone,’ says Patsy, raising her tiny glass.
I’m not the biggest fan of ouzo, but raise my glass too.
‘Cheers,’ I say, before knocking back the aniseed-tasting liquid and grimacing slightly.
I think about Irene’s comment before we call it a night, and how she said that something will turn up for me soon on the job front. I hope so to, but for now, I am going to enjoy every second of my time here in Greece.