Chapter 3 #3
‘Poor baby.’
She reached over and stroked his hand. The fatigue in his dark blue eyes with their black shadows was obvious.
‘Mama! That’s enough.’
Her eldest son’s job as a lawyer took a lot out of him, as he cared so much about his clients. He rarely took the holidays he was owed.
‘And where’s Kat?’
‘Working late. She’ll be here in a minute.’
His wife worked as hard as he did. When they’d ever find the time to have children, she had no idea.
Not that she was rushing to be a yiayiá, a Greek grandma, but if they wanted any little ones they needed to get a move on now.
Kat had hit her mid-thirties, and Giannis was already thirty-eight.
Not that it was any of her business, although she knew Kat’s fierce mother, Despina, gave them grief on a daily basis about not having a grandchild to hold.
Having got the whole pregnancy thing over in her early twenties with her two boys meant Suzie had been largely free by her forties to do as she pleased. She smiled to herself. Which was mainly slave away in the bar and still cook and run the household like a proper Greek wife, but still.
A whistle and a ‘hey’ from the other end of the bar caught both their attention. Kostas’s voice travelled across the room.
‘If you two have stopped holding hands, I could do with some help over here.’
She sidled up to her younger son and bumped hips with him.
‘Jealous, are we?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. Just under pressure.’
‘Your poor brother’s had a hard day.’
‘Haven’t we all?’
‘I thought you were out on the boat fishing all morning with your dad?’
Kostas’s expressive eyebrows shot up.
‘You surely don’t expect me to work twenty-four hours a day?’
‘No, dear. Of course not.’
The music had segued smoothly into the first slow dance section of the evening, and the crowds at the bar had thinned out somewhat as customers coupled up and thought about something other than drinking.
A couple of women looked longingly in Kostas’s direction, but she could have told them that, even if he hadn’t been working and available to dance, they’d have been out of luck.
Manolis, the young, fit, curly-haired barman pouring drinks down the other end of the bar, was much more up her younger son’s street.
She’d seen them talking quietly together outside, heads bent together, when she’d locked up on several occasions recently.
They’d make a good fit, especially compared to some of the guys Kostas had been out with.
But, as with Giannis, she wasn’t looking to interfere in her younger son’s love life.
The blister on her right heel was seriously starting to make itself known.
She shouldn’t have worn the high gold wedge espadrilles, but sensible footwear really wasn’t her bag.
Being on the smaller side – she hated to use the word ‘short’ – the idea of serving behind the bar in trainers did nothing for her.
But she was suffering for her vanity now.
The sight of Vicky walking in with a big smile on her face was a welcome relief. Someone her own age to talk to. Suzie waved her over.
‘Hey. You’ve come to check us out.’
‘Yes, no time like the present … and I’m desperate for a drink.’
‘Tough day?’
‘You could say that.’
‘This one’s on me.’
‘Thanks.’
Suzie took two beers from the fridge and walked round to the front of the bar. She shouted over at her younger son.
‘Taking my break now.’
Kostas shrugged extravagantly.
‘Pah!’
‘Don’t moan. I am still the boss, you know…’
She caught the wink he threw in her direction.
‘Not for long!’
She steered Vicky towards her youngest son and introduced them, before briefly stopping at Giannis and Kat’s table too, now they’d been reunited.
‘OK, now you’ve met my boys.’
‘They both seem utterly charming.’
Suzie grabbed Vicky by the arm.
‘Yeah. I love them to bits, but I need some “me time” just now. Let’s go and sit in that far corner, away from everyone.’
‘Suits me.’
Both women slumped down on their chairs and exhaled before putting the distinctive green glass bottles to their lips. A few moments of silence were what was called for. Bottle drained, Suzie lifted her hand for another.
‘You on?’
Vicky nodded. ‘After the day I’ve had, it’s a yes from me.’
‘Would it help to talk about it?’
Vicky’s expressive eyes clouded over for a moment. ‘I’d love to. Sadly, I’ve promised someone I won’t, but believe me it’s not good.’
This woman could obviously keep a secret. It confirmed Suzie’s initial instinct that Vicky was a good thing and not the type to blurt out your business all round town. Most of the Greeks she’d encountered were surprisingly keen on gossip, including the men.
Suzie gripped the edge of the table. ‘In that case, can I talk to you about something that’s eating me up?’
She could talk to the boys about it, but they wouldn’t be much use debating whether she could still get away with leather trousers. Horror would probably be the overwhelming reaction to that question.
Vicky put both elbows on the table and leant forward.
‘Sure. Fire away.’