Chapter 4
Chapter Four
I t had been a tiring but rewarding ten days. As the Greek schools didn’t break up for another week, Grace had taught adults– businessmen and women from the town– in the mornings and kids in the afternoons. The businesspeople were eager to learn, and Grace had used several of the ideas in her arsenal of tricks to push them.
She’d been determined that they weren’t going to be sitting there staring at a screen all morning. One of her most successful lessons was when she’d handed out photocopies with pictures and information on some of the country’s top tourist attractions, such as the Acropolis and the Panathenaic Stadium in Athens, plus the ruins at Delphi, and asked them to get into pairs.
One of the students got to be the tourist and the other a tour guide. Grace asked the tour guide to explain in English why the tourist should go to these places, how they could get there, and why they were culturally significant. The tourist had to ask lots of relevant questions. Then they had to swap over and do it the other way round.
It had seemed to go down well, if the buzz and noise was anything to go by. Thanassis had popped his head in for five minutes and given her an approving nod. She’d not seen anything of the bosses, Giannis and Elena, but she supposed they’d appear at some point.
Grace had taken full advantage of her downtime on the balcony and her lunchtime lie-downs every day, knowing that she had to teach children when she woke up. They were the easier of the two groups mentally, this was the age group she knew and loved, but it was physically demanding.
There was one eight-year-old boy, Stelios, who’d seemed slightly withdrawn, and hadn’t improved as she’d hoped as the week went on, so she’d have to ask for a meeting with his parents. She’d much prefer to teach the children in the mornings when she had more energy. Thankfully she’d soon get her wish. The adults would be busier as the tourist season hotted up and would take their lessons in the late afternoons during siesta time, when all the shops and businesses were shut, before opening again around six in the evening.
Grace loved the idea of browsing around the shops of an evening. She’d barely had the chance so far; all she’d done this week was work, eat, go for a quick stroll and sleep a lot. But she’d survived, and now she could give herself permission to ease up a bit. Some outings were definitely on the cards in the coming weeks.
With the last child dismissed, her classroom tidied ready for the Saturday morning lessons, and the promise of easier times ahead, Grace was intent on getting down to the main beach again. She’d take the longer path this time; she didn’t want to risk any more encounters with grumpy guy. He could guard his precious garden boundary all day long as far as she was concerned.
Her phone rang just as she’d stopped to take a shot of the beach below to send to the girls on their WhatsApp chat. It was OK for her to call them girls because they were her girls. Grace prepared to let it go to voicemail but changed her mind when she saw who it was.
‘Sofia!’
‘Grace, baby. How the devil are you?’
Her best friend from college, Sofia, was a force of nature. Phil hadn’t been a fan and always considered her a bad influence. But he’d understood their deep bond well enough not to comment too much on his wife’s nights out with her friend or time away together.
‘I’m good. About-to-lie-on-the-beach-and-go-swimming good.’
‘Oh, I’m sooo envious. I’m stuck in an office in rainy London.’
‘It’s been a tough first week. Believe me, I deserve it.’
‘OK, I believe you! Don’t get in a huff.’
Sofia had been fully briefed on Grace’s three-month adventure and had mainly offered advice on attracting Greek men, which Grace had ignored. Sofia had truly international tastes when it came to the opposite sex. Her friend lowered her voice.
‘Listen, I’m just about to go into a meeting, but I was wondering…’
As a successful divorce lawyer, Sofia was always just about to go into a meeting, but the tone of her voice had Grace slightly worried. It was Sofia’s ‘I’m about to spring something on you’ voice.
‘Out with it.’
‘I’ve got the week after next off, and I’m thinking of coming to your island for my break.’
‘Thinking of coming? Or already booked a flight and about to descend on me?’
‘Ah. I always said you were psychic. You know me so well.’
‘I should do after more than forty years. Obviously, I’d love to see you, but you know I’m working full-time, right? You were listening carefully during that conversation? Mornings from nine-thirty and afternoons until six, with a break in between?’
‘Yeah, no problem. There’s no way I’m planning to see the hours before nine-thirty in the morning when I’m on holiday, as you well know.’
Grace could indeed recall a lot of waiting on balconies or early morning walks around foreign towns, waiting for her friend to get up, during their girls’ weekends away.
‘We can meet for lunch each day, go out and party in the evenings, and in between I can work on my tan, and check out the local talent.’
Grace couldn’t suppress a laugh.
‘You’ve got it all figured out, haven’t you?’
‘Yep. I’m flying into Athens a week today to stay with a friend.’
‘Male, I presume?’
Rather than a sailor in every port, Sofia seemed to have a man in every capital city.
‘Meow. Anyway, I’ll get the little plane to your island the following morning. I’ve booked in at the Hotel Artemis, which I understand is walking distance to the language school. So, lunch on their rooftop terrace at one o’clock after you finish work, my treat.’
‘Would I dare argue?’
Grace had fancied checking out the restaurant at the luxury hotel herself, but Sofia couldn’t see the grin on her face.
The muffled voices in the background were getting louder and louder and Grace could hear her friend’s name being called.
‘Gotta go. See you next Saturday. Kisses.’
The phone went dead before Grace even had the chance to reply. She’d have to get her stamina up. As well as the full week of teaching ahead, the whirlwind that was Sofia would be in town. All the more reason for a lie-down on a sun lounger now.
The sun was still hot on her back, and there were people down on the beach, although it was past six-thirty in the evening. Many more passed her on the path coming the other way, carrying their parasols and cool boxes, making for home or the many hotels and apartments.
Grace headed straight for the sunbeds and chose a pair with a parasol on the almost empty front row. She stripped off to her costume and lay back for a moment, closed her eyes and let the sound of the sea wash over her. She came to with a young guy in a white T-shirt and a man bun standing over her with a smile. There were worse ways to wake up.
‘Hi. I’m the sunbed guy.’
‘Of course.’
Grace scrabbled for her purse.
‘Listen, it’s usually ten euros for the set, two beds and a parasol. But as it’s so late in the day, I won’t charge you for the bed, as long as you buy a drink.
‘Perfect. I’ll have a fresh orange juice please, with ice.’
She paid him, including a small tip, as she’d been advised that Greeks didn’t really expect tips as such, just for you to pay the price as stated, which was a relief.
A fresh orange juice in Greece really was a different experience from anything you could buy in a British supermarket that marketed itself as fresh orange juice.
Grace smiled as the first sip hit her mouth and burst with flavour. Perhaps it was the sun that gave it that special ingredient.
She sat up a bit straighter and looked out to sea and then back along the beach. There were families with young children dotted around, and she smiled to see one young mum trying to take a spade away from a little girl intent on whacking her brother over the head with it.
Older teenagers in groups, who’d obviously come straight from after-school lessons, snacked on bakery treats wrapped in paper bags, their schoolbags abandoned on the sand. She hadn’t really thought this one through. Hopefully there wouldn’t be anyone who attended her language school among them.
Young couples, or groups of friends, sat on towels and drank after-work beers, while their more energetic counterparts took each other on at the beach volleyball court, or stood with their feet in the sea, playing bat ball, hitting the ball to each other and shrieking with laughter as an awkward missed shot made one or the other of them fall in the water.
One group in particular caught her attention. A blond guy was throwing a ball to a dog while a dark-haired woman in a white bikini and sunglasses lay on a towel on the sand. A couple of other men stood talking above her and glancing down surreptitiously every few moments.
The dawning realisation that Charlie and Anna were at the centre of the group made Grace reach for her sunglasses and hat, even though she was shielded from the sun by her parasol. Bumping into those two on the beach wasn’t what she’d signed up for.
From behind her dark glasses, Grace was convinced that neither of them would spot her. She watched Charlie bend down to talk to a little boy who had come up to stroke the dog, Buster, if she’d remembered right. Buster was a Miniature Schnauzer; she knew that because her cousin had one. Her cousin’s dog, Dora, was incredibly well behaved and easy tempered, allowed to go into work with her owner and sit beside her chair all day.
Charlie spent time showing the boy how to approach the dog and stroke him in the correct way, before allowing the youngster to feed Buster a treat.
Despite herself, Grace was impressed. Maybe she’d got him all wrong. She must try and stop making snap judgements. She’d surely been a lot more open-minded about people when she was younger. People could occasionally surprise you. At her age, not often, but you never knew.
An extra-long throw of the ball by Charlie had Buster racing her way across the sand. Grace watched in horror as the ball bounced and went straight under her sun lounger. Buster followed not long after, while Charlie was still way back on the beach. Grace tried to keep still as Buster snuffled around near her lounger, unaware that the ball was underneath. She loved dogs, almost as much as cats, but this one was going to bring its owner over too.
Grace reached under the bed to fish out the ball, which gave Buster the excuse to get his head into her beach holdall covered with green and blue starfish. She remembered a second too late that there was a slice of spanakopita in there that she’d bought at the bakery on the way for a snack tea on the beach. She was already a firm fan of the spinach and feta pies. Buster pulled his head out, with his teeth attached to the lump of pastry. She couldn’t really blame the dog, the temptation was too much, and it wasn’t as if she was going to eat it now anyway.
‘Here, boy.’
Grace held out her hand, but Buster wasn’t giving up his prize that easily.
She wasn’t sure if dogs were supposed to eat pastry, and it was a bit late to Google it, as Buster had already demolished half.
By the time Charlie arrived, the slice was history.
Looking down at his dog and back at her, the pile of flakes and torn paper bag on the sand gave it away.
‘Oh, God, I’m sorry. He’s such a pig. He’ll eat anything.’
Grace kept the brim of her hat down.
‘No, it’s fine. It was only some leftovers.’
That wasn’t quite true, but she wanted him to go away.
‘It’s Grace under there, isn’t it?’
So, her disguise wasn’t worthy of the name. Rumbled. She took off her hat and sunglasses.
‘Oh, it’s you, Charlie.’
Grace bent down to stroke the dog and ruffle his spiky grey fur.
‘He’s a cutie, isn’t he?’
‘He’s a menace, but he’s my menace. Couldn’t be without him.’
Grace handed him the ball she’d found under the sunbed and lay back down again.
‘Here you go. This is what he was really looking for.’
Charlie threw the ball back in the direction of Anna and the guys.
‘Thanks, Grace.’
‘My pleasure.’
Charlie’s eyes were now on her rather than the dog or his friends. She was suddenly aware she was lying flat out on a sun lounger in a high-cut swimming costume rather than the shirt and shorts combo she wore for teaching.
He raised a hand to wave and treated her to another one of his winks.
‘Still got it, Grace.’
Cheeky boy. As he walked away, Grace thought she’d probably been right about him the first time.