Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
M ortified wasn’t the word. Horrifically embarrassed, totally ashamed and completely furious with herself were nearer the mark. Grace turned over in bed and attempted to open her eyes. Even the sliver of light coming in through the shutters was too much. She closed her eyes again and lay on her back. Her stomach was doing somersaults and her head pounded. The events of the previous evening came back to her in glorious Technicolor.
She’d virtually thrown herself at a colleague, been rescued by a smirking Will and, to top it all, informed him he was gay, when he clearly wasn’t. Things couldn’t get much worse. Her mind snagged on the words. It was a silly expression because she knew from personal experience that they could. Way worse. No one had died. She had to stop feeling sorry for herself.
That ouzo had a lot to answer for. Even the thought of it turned her stomach, and she was sure if she as much as smelt it again, she’d be sick on the spot. She’d had a similar experience as a teenager with Pernod, and after snogging a neighbour’s son, she’d passed out in their garage, been escorted home by her unsmiling father and vowed never to touch the stuff again. The aniseed thing was obviously a theme.
But there was a big difference between being a na?ve teenager and being a sixty-one-year-old woman who’d drunk herself stupid.
A long glass of water and a couple of painkillers helped her feel slightly more human. Sunday was her longed-for day off, and her mother’s voice told her that she couldn’t waste it lying around in bed. It was already gone two.
The town beach was still too risky, so she’d head back to the cove for an afternoon of relaxing on the beach and plenty of rehydration. The man’s jumper lying crumpled on the bed took her aback for a moment. Where had that come from? Had she been a whole lot drunker than she realised? She remembered with a sigh of relief that Will had given it to her at the port. She’d taken it off sometime after dawn because it was far too hot.
She’d head for the cove. Surely Will wouldn’t be there again? It was one tiny spot among thousands. At the last moment, Grace shoved the jumper into the bottom of her bag in case she saw him on her travels. She wanted to get rid of it as soon as possible.
Seated in the same chair on the beach at the cove, with a fresh orange juice in her hand, Grace was still fighting the queasy swell in her stomach. She gazed out at a passing tourist boat in the distance, ferrying people to the lesser-known beaches that were inaccessible on foot. The thought of being out on the water wasn’t a pleasant one in her condition.
Instead, she focused on the swimmers much closer to shore. One man’s powerful arms moved through the water in a perfect crawl. Grace was impressed with his technique, or that’s what she told herself. Back and forth he went, until he changed direction and swam towards the beach.
Grace continued to watch as the man stood and walked out of the sea, navy swim shorts tight against his thighs. Her afternoon had just got a whole lot worse. The swimmer was Will. Of course, it was. She looked away, but she could tell he’d spotted her. Droplets of water on her bare legs moments later forced her to look up. He stood inches away from her, bare-chested and shaking himself like a wet dog.
‘Hey, Grace.’
‘Will.’
‘How are you feeling this morning, or should I say afternoon?’
His hands raked though his thick dark hair as he said it, slicking it back to his head. He was at it again, making sarcastic remarks at her expense.
‘I’m fine. Bit surprised to see you here though.’
‘You shouldn’t be. I live just up there.’
Will pointed in the direction of a row of little white cubed houses with bright blue paintwork in the traditional Cycladic style.
‘Oh, I see.’ He’d wrongfooted her yet again. This was his home turf, not hers. She was desperate to get into the cool sea. The temperature on the beach had rocketed all of a sudden. She stood up in the hope that he’d get the message and carry on walking.
‘I’m just off for a swim.’
‘Great idea. That’ll wake you up.’
She was acutely aware that they were facing each other wearing just a few bits of flimsy material over their naked bodies. He didn’t seem to be moving off any time soon.
Her stomach suddenly growled loud enough for the whole beach to hear.
Will smiled.
‘Are you hungry?’
Her treacherous body played into his hands and gave another big growl.
Grace remembered a few mouthfuls of spinach pie around eighteen hours ago.
‘I haven’t eaten for a while. Why?’
Was he going to give her a lecture about healthy eating?
‘It’s just that I’ve got a couple of fresh fish up at the house that I was about to grill. Do you fancy joining me after your swim?’
Grace was lost for words. This man confused her at every turn.
‘I can whip up a simple salad to go with it. But if you’re busy…’
‘No… it’s not that. I just wasn’t expecting an invitation to lunch.’
‘It’s nothing fancy. Just a simple meal.’
‘Then, thank you.’
‘Take your time with your swim.’
Will pointed up at the row of houses, and Grace could see the whole of his tattoo for the first time. It was a star, with a name in the middle. But she wasn’t quite close enough to see it clearly.
‘It’s the second house on the left. Just come up whenever you’re ready.’
‘Will do. Thanks again.’
‘Don’t get too excited. I’m OK with the basics, but that’s about it.’
It was more than Phil had ever managed, but maybe she could take the rest of the day off from thinking about her husband.
* * *
The swim had cleared most of her headache and she rinsed the salt off in the open-air cold-water shower before changing in one of the cute metal-doored huts that also seemed to be provided on most Greek beaches, usually painted green or white. Back in her white denim shorts and pink spotted linen shirt, she was prepared, more prepared than she’d felt in a swimming costume. She had no idea what she’d find at Will’s.
It was unlikely he was married, given he’d been wandering the streets of the town on his own at dawn mere hours ago, but after her experience with Thanassis, you never knew.
Will was stood on his terrace, alone and, she was relieved to see, covered up again in navy shorts and a white short-sleeved shirt. He waved as she walked up the path.
‘Welcome to my humble abode.’
‘Thank you for inviting me.’
The terrace was big enough for a table and chairs, plus a couple of sun loungers in a smart blue and white stripe and an enormous barbecue with a domed lid.
‘Make yourself comfortable.’ Will indicated the table. ‘Sit back and enjoy the spectacular view. We’re all set to go. The fish is done to perfection. I’ll just fetch the salad.’
Will certainly seemed to have picked up the Greek habit of bigging up the food and the views. The Greeks were justifiably proud of both, but it took a bit of getting used to. Grace much preferred it to British diffidence.
The table was set for two, and she took a seat that faced the cove and the sea beyond. It was indeed stunning. You could see for miles but were protected from both the sun and, she assumed, very rare rain by a white bamboo pergola.
Will set the traditional Greek salad, which she now knew was called horiatiki, on the table, along with a jug of some sort of sauce, and a large bottle of water.
‘I’m presuming you don’t want alcohol?’ There was the smirk. ‘I think I’ve got a bottle of ouzo inside somewhere.’
He had to spoil it, didn’t he?
‘Water’s fine for me, thanks.’
Will lifted the lid of the barbecue, and the most divine smell coated the air, which caused her stomach to growl for the third time. At this stage, although she wasn’t a big meat eater, the proverbial horse would be in trouble if it was anywhere nearby.
‘Let’s eat.’
The freshness of the fish teamed with the lemon and butter sauce was a revelation and they ate in a companionable silence as they watched people going about their business below on the beach. For the second time in twenty-four hours, Grace didn’t feel the need to fill the space with words. Usually, she hated silence.
Will offered coffee and suggested they move to the sun loungers, which Grace happily agreed to.
‘Thank you for a truly gorgeous meal.’
‘My pleasure.’
He’d brought out a small plate of baklava for each of them, another Greek staple which Grace had become a big fan of.
‘Thanks. Can I ask, do you own this place, or are you just renting?’
‘I bought it ten years ago when prices were low. I came here on holiday and fell in love with the island. I needed a base of my own after years of living in rental properties or getting free accommodation with the job.’ Will took a sip of his coffee. ‘My wife kept the house in Britain after our divorce.’
‘I see. I’m sorry your marriage didn’t work out.’
‘No, it’s fine, honestly. It was years ago. We’ve been apart longer than we were together. And my marriage had been over for a long time before that. Having to leave at a moment’s notice, sometimes for months on end, and not be able to say where you’re going is hard on any relationship.’
She knew he’d served, and she wasn’t an expert, but it all sounded a lot more full-on than the regular army.
‘But don’t they have married quarters?’
‘Yes, for when you’re based in the UK, but the type of places I was being sent to weren’t anywhere you’d want your nearest and dearest to be, believe me.’
Grace’s mind was whirring.
‘Were you Special Forces by any chance?’
Will’s eyes clouded over, and he looked up and out to sea.
Grace put up her hands. She hadn’t meant to say it out loud.
‘Sorry, I know you’re not allowed to talk about it. It’s just me being nosy.’ She could only imagine the things Will had seen and taken part in over the years. ‘Please carry on.’
‘As I was saying, my wife was happy when we lived up in Yorkshire, close to her family. But as soon as our son Jack was born, everything changed. We were so young, and she wanted to stay where she had guaranteed support. So, we bought a house near her parents, and tried, in vain, to make it work.’
It was the most she’d ever heard him speak about himself. Grace had no real idea of his age; she thought he was a bit younger than her, maybe mid-fifties, but it was so hard to tell. A tan always helped, and he was obviously fit. Interesting that he had a grown-up son.
‘But that’s enough about me. What about you? What are you doing over here?’
‘I’ve taken a summer job at the language school in town, teaching English.’
‘Ah, I thought you might be a teacher when I saw you with Thanassis.’
Grace bit into her baklava rather too fiercely, causing honey and nuts to ooze out of the sides. She didn’t want to be reminded of last night. Will’s eyes were on her as she licked the honey from her fingers.
‘And have you left anyone behind at home in Britain?’
‘Just two grown-up daughters. Well, one lives in Australia.’
‘You don’t look old enough to have grown-up daughters.’
‘Well, I started early too…’
What was she saying? Although it was true, she was making herself sound like a child bride.
‘So, you’re divorced, like me?’
‘Not exactly.’ Grace took a deep breath. There’d been enough misunderstandings. ‘I’m a widow.’
‘Ah, sorry to hear that. How long?’
‘Nearly three years. It was prostate cancer, caught too late…’
Grace’s voice broke and she bit her lip to stop herself from crying. He was the first person she’d told since she arrived. They desperately needed a change of conversation. She didn’t want to break down in front of a virtual stranger. A good-looking stranger who could cook, but a stranger nevertheless.
Most new people she told the truth to stopped talking immediately or made some excuse to get away from her as soon as possible. Only those who’d been through it themselves were willing to go further, and she really had no desire to sit in a room full of widows talking about their dead husbands for hours on end. She was sure it was useful for some people, but it wouldn’t work for her.
Will eased back into his sun lounger.
‘Did you know that next month is the fifty-fifth anniversary of the moon landing– July the twentieth, nineteen sixty-nine?’
Thank goodness he’d got the hint. A bit random, but it would do.
‘It’s a very special date for me because it’s also my birthday.’
‘Do you mean it’s the day you were born?’
That would make him almost fifty-five.
‘No, I was already a very excited five-year-old. I had a party and then my parents let me stay up to watch the main event the next evening as it was a Sunday. I can remember Neil Armstrong stepping out onto the moon surface, clear as day.’
So, he was about to be sixty. Only a little younger than her then.
‘It was in black and white, of course. We had a tiny television, and there were five us crowding round, me, my two older brothers, my mum and, unusually, my dad, who was home on leave, which made it even more special. I didn’t get to see a lot of my dad. It was one of the best days of my life so far.’
‘It’s the most watched television event of all time, isn’t it?’
‘I believe so. You’re obviously far too young to have caught it?’
His question wasn’t as innocent it seemed.
‘Is that a roundabout way of asking me how old I am?’
Will smiled. ‘Busted.’
Grace debated a moment. In the past she’d just kept vague about her age, thinking it was no one’s business but hers. If you told some people that you were over sixty, especially if you weren’t meeting them in person, they immediately formed an image of you in their minds. Age was just a number, but the preconceptions had a lot to do with how the previous generation had behaved or been treated.
She remembered a party for her own father’s fortieth birthday, which was full of jokes about getting old. One of his presents was a bottle of the iron supplement Phyllosan, with guests singing the accompanying jingle, ‘Phyllosan fortifies the over-forties.’ It had made her worry that her father wasn’t going to last long.
These days, thankfully, forty was still considered young. And sixty-plus wasn’t old either. It was perfectly possible to be fit and current. She was irritated by some of her friends, or more accurately acquaintances, who seemed determined to throw themselves headlong into old age. No meeting up in the evenings, lunchtimes only, no driving at night, hair chopped into a uniform bob. And if anyone sent her another grey-haired-old-lady emoji to explain away something they’d forgotten to do, she’d scream. Her real friends still had jobs and full social lives, and, if they were retired, were off travelling the world.
When she opened her eyes, Will was staring at her. She’d told him she was a widow, so she might as well go the whole way. What did it matter?
‘No, I didn’t stay up to watch it, as my parents were two of the few people in the world who weren’t that interested. But I will admit that I was six at the time, which as I’m sure you can work out, makes me sixty-one.’
Will let out a low whistle.
‘I really wasn’t expecting that. I thought you were early fifties at most.’
‘You wouldn’t if you’d seen me when I woke up this morning. Makeup everywhere and hair sticking up like a bog brush.’
Why was she giving him mental images of her in bed and bringing toilets into it?
‘Okaay. If you say so.’
‘And I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t mention my age or the fact that I’m a widow to anyone else. Particularly Thanassis, as I don’t want it getting back to the other teachers. I’m not keen on people knowing too much about me.’
‘I’m with you there.’
‘Which reminds me.’ Grace reached for her bag. ‘I’ve got your jumper in here.’ She handed it over. ‘I could wash it if you like. There is a washing machine at the language school, but there’s limited drying space. It looks quite expensive; it probably needs hand washing.’
‘No, it’s fine. Another thing I learnt in the army. How to wash my own clothes. And I’m sure it’s not so dirty that it needs washing after being next to your skin for just a couple of hours.’
Why was he talking about her skin?
Will put the jumper under his sunlounger with a smile.
‘Were you hoping to bump into me again? Is that why you had it in your bag?’
Arrogant git.
‘No, not at all. I just shoved it in there on the off chance.’
‘Well, thank you for returning it.’
‘No problem.’
Grace gathered her things together.
‘I’d better be getting back. I have a weekly chat with my youngest daughter every Sunday evening at the same time, and she doesn’t like it if I miss it.’ She turned to Will. ‘Do you speak to your son often?’
His eyes clouded over again, and Grace wished she could take the words back. There was a fine line between nosiness and genuine interest, and she’d been known to fall off the balance beam a few times.
‘Not really.’
‘OK, sorry to bring it up.’
Will sighed.
‘No, you’ve been honest with me. We have a difficult relationship. His mother blamed me for us splitting up, and she poured all her anger and frustration into Jack. It’s got better as time’s gone on, once he understood that there’s more than one side to every story. My wife got together with a guy from the village after we split, and they went on to have two little girls. I stayed out of the picture completely. I thought it was best to let them get on with it at the time.’
‘That’s so sad, for you and for Jack.’
Grace couldn’t imagine Phil not having been involved with the girls on a day-to-day basis as they grew up. With both of them being teachers, they’d spent the long summer holidays travelling across Europe in a battered Volkswagen camper van, stopping wherever the fancy took them, swimming in rivers and lakes, before eventually making it to the coast of whatever Mediterranean country they’d chosen and parking right on the beach. She was grateful for those memories now. There wouldn’t be any more.
‘Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying I was blameless. I did make mistakes, but letting my ex-wife effectively isolate me from my son is probably my biggest. We’re working on it, but we’ve still got a way to go.’
‘I really hope you work it out.’
Will shrugged.
‘So do I. But at our age, we’ve all got a bit of baggage, haven’t we?’
She’d opened the wound, so she might as well ask one more question before she tried to stitch it closed it again.
‘And did you never meet anyone else?’
Will raised his eyebrows.
‘Well, I’m not pretending I’ve been a monk since my divorce. That would make me a little odd.’
The look in his eyes could have melted snow.
She wasn’t asking for a list of his sexual conquests, if that’s what he was thinking.
‘I’ve had my moments, and one or two long-term relationships. But I’ve not met anyone I could live with, or even fall properly in love with, since. I’m probably too used to being on my own.’
‘Yes, probably.’
Grace got up from the sun lounger and stretched her legs.
‘Lovely as this has been, I really do need to go.’
‘Understood.’
‘Thank you again.’
‘No problem. It got a bit deep there, didn’t it?’
She wasn’t quite sure which bit of the conversation he was referring to, but she’d opened up to Will more than to any of her new colleagues. It helped that they were a similar age and had shared memories of world events. She often wondered what Sofia and her toyboys talked about, but talking was probably at the bottom of the list.
Just as she got to the path, she heard him shout something.
‘Sorry?’
Grace retraced her steps.
‘Do you like films?’
Was that why he’d stopped her from leaving? Who didn’t like films?
‘Err, yes, why?’
‘There’s a fantastic open-air cinema in the town. Serves snacks and everything. Would you be up for going sometime?’
She’d seen it advertised online. It looked a lot more interesting than your local Odeon.
Now she’d been here a month, and the work side of things was under control, she’d started to feel a little lonely in the evenings. She wasn’t looking for a romantic relationship, and neither, it appeared, was Will, so the pressure was off.
‘Yeah, why not.’
‘OK, let’s swap numbers, and see if we can agree on a film.’
That would probably be a trial in itself. She hoped he wasn’t into high octane action films featuring his army buddy types, or, even worse, horror movies.
‘Have you got your phone handy?’
Will lifted it into the air.
‘I’ll read my number out, and you WhatsApp me later, so I’ve got yours.’
‘Yes, madam.’
When she finally got back to her room, Grace fell asleep as soon as she’d chatted with Flo.
She tried to keep herself awake, as she knew she wouldn’t get through a whole night if she slept now. It reminded her of when the girls were toddlers and she’d been desperate to keep them going during the afternoons, so they wouldn’t be up half the night.
But after all that swimming, eating and walking, her eyelids kept closing. She stopped fighting it.
When she woke, it was just after five in the morning, and she could see a faint glow in the sky. There was no going back to sleep now. She didn’t want to wake the others by wrenching open the shutters. The teachers’ rooms were next to each other in a line, with hers at one end, Rose and Daniel’s in the middle and Anna’s at the far end, next to the stairs. Charlie lived at the back of the town somewhere with his girlfriend. They all had work in the morning, and they deserved to sleep on.
She could slip out and go for a walk, or down to the port for a coffee, to the place she’d been with Will. Grace dressed quickly and opened her door very carefully. A figure at the end of the corridor was doing the same thing. Instinctively, Grace pulled her door almost closed again. She strained her eyes in the gloom, closed them in astonishment and looked again. There was no mistake. It was her boss, Giannis, giving Anna a lingering kiss goodbye in the doorway before he crept down the stairs.