Chapter 11
ELEVEN
I’m already thinking about what I can wear tomorrow evening. The biggest nightclub in Fira? I can hardly wait. I wonder if there will be any famous people there.
I put all thoughts of tomorrow aside, as the Greek dancers file onto a small stage dressed in traditional costume, and a familiar Greek dance tune strikes up.
We are clapping and foot tapping along to the music, watching the dancers intently, a flick of the leg here, arms linked around each other’s shoulders. An ‘Opa,’ every now and then.
I am watching every move because, as I suspected, I am soon taken by the hand to join in with the dancing. Soon, a dozen or so people have joined in, throwing their heads back and dancing, including Owen and Tasha, who has removed her veil and looks as though she might burst with happiness.
I’m high kicking my legs, when Bryn slides in and puts his arm around my shoulders, asking me if I fancy meeting him later, a lecherous grin on his face.
As we dance, his hand moves down the side of my body, before he snakes his arm around my waist setting my skin on edge.
It’s all I can do to stop myself from slapping him but I don’t want a scene at my friend’s wedding, so I gently remove his arm instead.
Thankfully, just then Christos appears, apologising to Bryn and cutting in, placing his arm around my shoulders, before seamlessly and very expertly joining in with the dancing.
The feel of his arm around me is so different to that of Bryn’s, and I can feel my face flush, hoping he doesn’t notice when he gives a sideways smile.
‘Are you having fun?’ he whispers in my ear, almost making me go wrong-footed.
‘I am actually, now that I have mastered the steps.’ I am really enjoying myself, I think to myself.
‘You certainly have the moves,’ he says approvingly.
‘Thanks,’ I mutter. ‘Although I have watched Greek dancing many times,’ I explain just as someone approaches and calls him away. I feel disappointed that he must leave, so excuse myself and head back to my table, before Bryn can rejoin the dancing.
After the dancing, everyone is sitting around chatting once more, and soon enough Owen and Tasha have reappeared from getting changed into casual wear, before saying goodbye to us all.
This evening, they are taking a private catamaran to a secluded island where they will spend a few nights at a private villa, which is apparently the only one for miles around. Tasha tells me they will spend the day snorkelling and swimming in the clear blue water.
Once the guests have finally drifted off, and we have all said our goodbyes to the happy couple, some heading to another bar in the hotel, others out on the town, Lulu and I sit in the hotel bar chatting, before ordering a taxi back to our village.
When we arrive at the apartment just after nine o’clock, a message pings through on Lulu’s phone and a smile spreads across her face.
‘It’s Phil from work, asking if I am having a good time, before you ask,’ she tells me.
‘Oh, yes.’ I raise an eyebrow. ‘I told you he liked you, didn’t I?’
‘Just a friendly enquiry.’ She bats away the suggestion. ‘He says to say hi to you too.’
‘Ah, that’s nice. He’s a good bloke.’
‘He is.’ She smiles. ‘Anyway, I don’t think he sees me in a romantic way, he’s nice to everyone.’
‘What would you do if he did? Like you, I mean?’ I ask.
‘Not sure.’ She kicks off her shoes before lying on her bed, and lacing her hands behind her head. ‘He’s kind and handsome, I guess, but I think I’m a bit out of practice.’
‘Maybe it’s time you started to get back in the game then,’ I suggest.
‘Hmm, maybe.’ She fluffs up her pillow and turns onto her side.
While Lulu has a little snooze, I flick through some photos and upload them to my social media.
Some of the church photos look incredible, as do the sunset and sea views from the restaurant in Perissa.
I idly wonder whether I might soon be uploading photos of myself and a certain good-looking Greek, before I head out onto the balcony and take some more shots of the white buildings that snake down the hillside as the light begins to fade.
I snap away with my camera phone watching a boat gently drift across the horizon, as lights begin to come to life in the harbour.
Taking a seat on a balcony chair and closing my eyes, I feel my eyes become heavy after the excitement of the day. I grab a nearby throw from a chair and wrap it around me, feeling happy and relaxed. Maybe I will just close my eyes for a minute.
As I drift off, I wonder whether I ought to have asked Christos for a photo with him at the wedding, although that might have seemed a bit strange as we had only just met, even though it would look good on my Instagram.