Friday 29th September
Z ina was setting small jars of gypsophila, rosemary and some very expensive rosebuds along the centre of the table when her mother’s car pulled up next to the courtyard. Susan and Ellen spilled out, laden with boxes.
“How are we going to get all this home?” asked Ellen. “I’m not even sure we’re allowed to take some of this stuff in.”
Panora appeared from the driver’s side. “Yes, but you could not refuse your family’s gifts. Anyway, Ekaterini has grandchildren who like biscuits and cakes.”
Susan flung her arms around her. “I don’t know what we would have done without you. You’ve been amazing.”
“I’ve loved every minute of it.” Mama’s face was glowing in a way Zina hadn’t seen for a good long while, enhanced by the subtle make-up she had recently taken to wearing. She’d even had her hair cut and dyed, and was sporting a new chunky bead necklace which toned perfectly with her terracotta-coloured top. She had come out of herself so much that it made Zina worry how her mother would fare once her new friends had gone home. No doubt she’d miss them as much as Zina would, and she would have to find some way of filling the void for her.
“And just you remember what we said,” Ellen told her. “Think about it. Seriously.”
Panora watched them head to their room.
“What was that about?” Zina asked. It couldn’t be Mama visiting them in the States; they’d already been talking about that for at least a week.
“They think, and to be honest, I have been thinking too, that I should start a business helping Americans with Greek heritage to find their families. Do you think it could work?”
“It’s pretty niche, but I don’t see why not.” Her mother’s face dropped. Skatá! She hadn’t meant to sound less than enthusiastic… she’d just been thinking. She gripped both her hands. “We’ll make a plan. I’ll find out how we can reach these people so they know about you, then I’m sure it will fly.”
“There’s quite a community in Detroit, apparently, where Susan comes from originally. It would be a place to start.” Mama hugged her. “If you can promote it for me, it will be successful, I know. Now, I must go and pick the herbs Ekaterini wants for the garnishes tonight.”
Zina hoped that her mother’s confidence in her was not misplaced, but she was buoyed by the job she’d done for Jo. It was only a few days since they’d broken the story and the fuss had all but died down already. A famous tree on Hadrian’s Wall had been vandalised and the media had all moved on to that. Thankfully. Well, not for the tree, but for Jo it had worked a treat.
And just as good was that while liaising with the publicity team at Jo’s publishers, Zina had been able to drop into the conversation that she was available for freelance projects, and they had asked for more information. Next week she would sound out some of her Athens contacts to see what the chances were of some work from them. She didn’t need to be greedy; just enough to keep her brain busy. So she wouldn’t have pent-up frustrations to vent on Lambros.
The table dressed to her satisfaction, she took some photos for her Instagram then headed for the kitchen. Tonight Ekaterini was preparing a Santorini feast, using as many local products as she could. The canapés included tiny tomatokeftédes , cubes of chloró cheese, and thin slices of apóchti , local pork cured with cinnamon and herbs. Then the starter would be fava with octopus, followed by Ekaterini’s vegetable moussaka, which had been baking in the oven since early this morning.
For Zina the most exciting course would be dessert: honey-rich melitinía tarts served with ice cream made from Lambros’s pistachios. Not only was it a chance to showcase one of his products to the retreat’s guests, but Jo had begged Zina, Lambros, Panora and Ekaterini to join them for this special treat and to enjoy a little time together.
Zina did not like to think of the goodbyes that would follow. She had never considered that over the course of a month her guests would become friends. Some more than others, of course, and she felt a deep affinity for Karmela and Jo in particular, who had listened to her and understood. They had helped her to find a way through her problems, and been such wonderful examples of personal awareness. Her biggest lightbulb moment had been not when she’d realised it was a skill she was sorely lacking, but that it was one she could learn.
She would miss their presence more than she could say, but knew they would keep in touch. They had already made tentative plans for a weekend at Frankfurt’s famous Christmas market– somewhere they could all reach relatively easily– and Zina just hoped she’d be able to afford it.
It seemed such an extravagance, but Lambros had told her she would easily earn the money with one or two freelance projects. Zina was determined that he would have a treat too, and if they couldn’t afford a ticket for him to watch his beloved Olympiacos play in Athens the same weekend, then she wasn’t going anywhere.
He hurried into the courtyard now, dressed in black jeans and a white linen shirt.
“Will this do?” he asked anxiously. “It’s an age since I’ve dressed up.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “You look awesome.”
“But do I look like a wine waiter?”
“An extremely sexy one. But come inside. We don’t have much time and I need to show you where everything is.”
A few minutes later Zina heard the oak door at the bottom of the staircase open, and she peeped out of the bar to see Iain emerge. He stopped in his tracks, gesticulating wildly at the table.
“Oh shit, shit! Zina, where’s Lambros?”
They raced outside to find the smallest white-faced goat with her hooves on the end of the table, nibbling delicately at the rosebuds in a flower arrangement.
“ Bástardos zóo !” Lambros yelled, diving around one side of the table, while Iain ran towards the other. Thankfully the shouting was enough to scare the goat off, as well as bring Susan and Ellen rushing from their room and Ekaterini from the kitchen.
Zina watched as Lambros turned to Iain, his face pale. “Oh god, she’s going to kill me! Kill me!”
Not one, but two goats peeped around the corner of the building, and Lambros lunged, arms waving like a human windmill, before chasing after them, followed by Iain. They looked so ridiculous, so comical, and within moments both Zina and Ekaterini were bent double laughing, Ellen and Susan joining in.
Once she recovered herself, Zina checked the table. “I think we need a clean cloth,” she said, looking at the hoof-shaped marks.
Susan appeared at her shoulder, then flicked the worst of the dusty soil away. “Oh no. And leave the flowers half-eaten too. We’re going to have to tell the others about this; it was just so funny.”
Ellen proffered her phone. “I managed to get a video too. It’s a bit blurry though– Lambros moved so fast.”
Susan giggled. “Perhaps I’ll write a flash fiction about the goat who came to dinner.”
They started to laugh again. “You do that,” Zina told her, “and I’ll give it to Lambros for his birthday.”
Mama rounded the corner, clutching a bunch of herbs. “I think you’d better go and tell Lambros he’s not in disgrace. He and Iain are skulking just down the track.”
How ridiculous. Of course he wasn’t. Why would he even think—? But Zina knew. This time she knew.
“Mama, can you start serving the drinks? We won’t be a moment.”
Lambros and Iain were about a hundred metres away, not exactly returning to the courtyard with any enthusiasm or speed. A couple of weeks ago she would have been angry, but now she recognised this was her fault. How absolutely mortifying she’d got herself into a place where her husband feared her reactions.
When she reached them, Lambros could barely look at her. “Zina, I’m so sorry.”
She smiled and lifted his face in her hands. “You have nothing to apologise for. In fact, it was really funny.”
The tension dropped from his shoulders. “Straight up?”
“Straight as you like. And I’m the one who’s sorry, because I became such a miserable, humourless bitch you thought I’d go off on one. If only I could have seen it at the time… but I’m changing, Lambros, I swear.”
“And I shouldn’t have overreacted.” He brushed some hair that had come loose from her ponytail away from her face, and tucked it behind her ear, as Iain melted into the dusk behind them. “I guess the truth of it is, although we’ve made great progress we’re still a little uncertain of each other’s reactions. The things that could be flashpoints are going to feel clunky for a while.”
“Misunderstandings will happen. We’re married after all.”
“We just need to learn to handle them better.”
“And we will.”
“And not forget we need to work as hard on our marriage as we do everything else.”
He was right, so right. But at this moment they had a job to do for their guests. Zina put a finger on his lips. “Listen to us, Lambros. The way we’re talking. That in itself means we’re going to be fine.”
He kissed the top of her head, then tucked her under his arm as they returned to The Retreat House as one.