Sunday 3rd September
S weat soaking into the back of her T-shirt, Zina held the piece of wood in place while Lambros hammered in the nails. Inside the rough pasture of the enclosure, the goats watched them with their own particular brand of detached curiosity. This was such a waste of time. The bástardos creatures would be out again before they knew it. No doubt aided and abetted by Iain’s dog. Why on earth had she ever let him bring it? It was bad enough it left silvery hairs all over the bedroom– hairs she had to clean up.
She was beginning to realise just how mind-numbing the everyday grind of actually running the retreat really was. How come it hadn’t occurred to her before? She felt like such a fool, and she hated feeling foolish. Not for a single moment had she envisaged how fast she’d morph from Instagrammable entrepreneur to domestic drudge. Yesterday there had been nothing at all to upload to her feed and today looked like being very much the same. Her friends in Athens, normally such avid followers, would wonder if she’d fallen off the face of the earth. Perhaps she had.
Last night Zina had joined the others in the courtyard with the express intention of asking Jessica for a selfie to post, but when she’d said how shy she was, it hadn’t seemed like the right thing to do at all. And she couldn’t have left Karmela out of the photo either– even though it wouldn’t have had the same impact with a third person in it. Karmela was a guest too. Just not a famous one.
Perhaps there would be other chances. In fact, Zina was sure there would be, given the others’ enthusiasm for more late-night conversation. Zina had meant it when she’d said she missed the company of career women like herself, and they had been so interested in her and why she had started the retreat that she had really enjoyed herself.
She looked at the goats and the goats looked back at her. They were kind of cute, especially the russet-coloured one with the long, floppy ears. Glancing down, she saw Lambros’s tanned and muscled arms. His chiselled jawline with its hint of stubble was sexiness personified too. Cute with hunky was a winning combination for social media. Could she manage to get both into a shot?
He stood back to admire his handiwork. “Right, that should hold. On to the next one.”
“Can we do a couple of photos first? For my Insta?”
“What, now? Do we have to? I’ve got a lot to get through this afternoon.”
Did he honestly think she had time to stand here all day holding planks? She bit back the words. What she needed was to persuade him, not make him even more irritable.
“If you’re too busy I could just snap a few of the goats, but it will tell so much more of a story if I show you mending the fence as well. And not just for today; they’ll make great library shots for when we’re promoting your yoghurt and chloró cheese next year.”
More than anything, Lambros wanted some sort of deli farm shop like Yiannis had to sell his produce direct to holidaymakers and locals. Of course, being him, he hadn’t worked out the details yet, but Zina had to admit the idea was pretty cool.
“OK, but quickly. And don’t fiddle about uploading them now either.” His voice brooked no argument, but at least she’d got most of what she wanted.
“Thank you,” she kissed him lightly on the lips. “If you weren’t so hot I wouldn’t want you in the pictures.”
“Then let’s get on with it.” At least he was almost smiling.
Frustratingly, it took longer than Zina had expected and Lambros was once again glowering by the time she’d finished. She checked her watch. She needed to be back in the kitchen soon to cook supper as it was Ekaterini’s day off, and she definitely had to shower first.
“How many more bits do we need to mend?” she asked.
“Three.”
“God, Lambros, I don’t have time.”
“You had time to mess around with those photos.”
“Social media presence is important.”
“Couldn’t you have just snapped the bougainvillea or something?”
“No, because I’ve already done that. Nor do I have time to set anything up. I’m on my own today, remember, cooking and waiting tables.”
He sighed. “OK, Zi, off you go.”
She bit her lip. “I’ll help you with one more bit, then I really will need to run, and I don’t want you moaning about it.”
“If that’s the best you can offer, I’ll take it.”
It was a full twenty minutes later when Zina set her phone on the bathroom windowsill and saw her schoolfriend Resi’s message.
Reunion on Wednesday night? Know you’re busy, but Georgiou Kallitsis is back for a holiday– from New York!
Followed by a string of yellow taxi emojis.
New York? What was her high school sweetheart doing there? Well for himself, presumably. Zina gazed at the pile of grubby clothing on the tiled floor. If she’d still been working in Athens, she might have flown in for the party and made quite a splash… Thankfully she had an excuse.
Quickly she typed: Sorry, no. I’ll be working. But have some fun for me.
As if. Three rolling eyes emojis. With a six-month-old baby feeding.
Zina stepped into the shower. Would Georgiou miss her, or would he not even notice she wasn’t there? When she was sixteen and he was seventeen, they’d seemed made for each other– the girls’ basketball captain and the boys’ football captain, united by their desire to win at all costs. And the school had won every sporting trophy going that year and they’d basked in each other’s glory, smiling, glamorous, successful. Like something out of an American high school prom movie.
Behind the scenes, Georgiou had spent most of the time they were together trying to persuade her to have sex with him. He figured they’d done everything else– and they had, oh, they had– but holding out became something of a game for Zina. The harder he tried, the more she resisted. And the more she resisted, the harder he tried… Until he dumped her without even telling her when he went away to Thessaly University on the mainland, leaving her to complete her last year at school alone.
At the time it had hurt like hell, but by Christmas she’d been dating again, and within a year of finishing school had left the island herself for a job with the national tourist board– Athens, then London, back to Athens, then headhunted by the agency. Little wonder that even before she met Lambros, she’d almost completely forgotten about Georgiou. And she certainly didn’t have time to run off to see him now.