Chapter 16
The following day dawned just as all the others had, clear skies and sunny, with the promising warmth and slightly fresh edge of an early summer morning.
I made some tea and sat in bed for a while, looking out of the open windows. There was a scuffle in the bougainvillea and one of the kittens fell onto the balcony and started sniffing around the place where I had started leaving some scraps from my breakfast ham.
‘I’ll bring you some later,’ I said, and it stopped, startled at the sound of my voice, and scampered away.
I wondered how Ivan was getting on without me back home.
Not that he was the sort of cat to fawn around me when I was there, and undoubtedly I would get the cold shoulder from him for several days on my return.
It was surprising that Nicky was getting on so well with him, but knowing Ivan, he was canny enough to be doing it just to be ornery.
I pulled on some loose linen trousers and a clean shirt and then found my sunhat, which was plain white and a bit boring compared with the jaunty Old Ducks hats Anita, Effie and Beryl wore.
Out in the courtyard, the breakfast was set out as usual and the table was nearly full. Will was at the far end, my friends at the other. I went to sit between Beryl and Effie with my croissants and coffee.
We had a discussion about what our painting task would be that morning. We wondered what Jillian had in mind.
‘This would make a good still life,’ Effie said, pointing at her plate. ‘A glass of orange juice and five grapes. I could call it The Joy of Six.’
Beryl pushed her toast and apricot jam around the plate for a few minutes.
‘There you are – mine would be called This Picture is Toast.’
‘I wish it could be the kittens,’ Susan said, ‘but do you think they would stay still for long enough?’
Reminded by this comment, I wrapped a piece of ham in a paper napkin and sneaked it into my pocket.
* * *
Bang on ten thirty we all assembled obediently on the roof terrace, where Nina had kindly put up all the parasols and placed several carafes of iced water and some glasses on each table. And we would need them; it was shaping up to be a hot day.
‘So now then, what are we supposed to be painting?’ Dennis said, hands on hips, surveying the terrace like a captain on the bridge of his ship.
Jillian, who was already there with her usual clipboard and a worried expression, settled us all down.
‘One moment, and it will all be revealed to you,’ she said. ‘I think you will be amazed. And possibly a bit surprised.’
Will and I exchanged looks at this point, neither of us knowing where this was going.
Moments later, Costas appeared, wrapped in his dolphin-patterned robe, bowed extravagantly towards us and went to sit on the sunbed in the middle of our group.
Before doing so, he unfastened the belt and rather theatrically let the garment fall to the floor in a heap.
And then he struck a sort of Usain Bolt lightning pose, the sunlight glinting on his oiled torso and a rather startling green thong.
Then in a final flourish he did a slow rotation to give us the full benefit of his physique and held out his arms to us and shook them.
‘Ha!’ he said. ‘Is Apollo!’
It was a scene which could have come straight out of Zorba the Greek, and for a second the whole group was shocked into respectful silence.
Then we gave a collective gasp and Costas laughed.
‘My goodness, I haven’t seen anything like it, not since I was having dinner in the Crazy Horse in Paris in 1977,’ Beryl breathed.
‘I’m definitely amazed,’ Effie said.
‘And surprised,’ I said.
Unable to look away, we stared as Costas settled himself on the sunbed and took out his cigarettes, lighting one with a sigh of pleasure.
‘Thank heaven he’s wearing that thong,’ Anita whispered.
‘Well, I must say, this is an unexpected development,’ Dennis said. ‘Let’s get to it, folks. Costas, can you uncross your legs?’
‘Please don’t,’ Effie whimpered, ‘not from where I’m sitting. I don’t think my blood pressure would stand it. I might have to move.’
‘He’s very brave,’ I said.
‘I’ve never drawn an actual person,’ Susan said, ‘and certainly not a man in his – you know – a tiny little thing like that.’
‘It’s not a thing, it’s a thong. I think we all need some water,’ Beryl said, reaching for the carafe.
‘And so, I thought this would make an interesting change from the last few days of glorious landscapes and views,’ Jillian said very firmly.
Perhaps she had seen the looks on our faces.
‘And there is nothing to it. Just let your materials flow across the paper, meld with your imaginations. You don’t have to be anatomically accurate in order to be inspired. ’
‘That’s good news,’ Will said. ‘It’s a long time since I’ve done this sort of thing.’
‘We don’t?’ June said hopefully. ‘Be too – you know – anatomical, I mean?’
‘Absolutely not. This is just another opportunity to try a new medium perhaps, allow your inner Francis Bacon to fly. Perhaps focus on one thing. Draw it in detail. Really study the shape and line of it.’
We watched as Costas got settled. He was a big, muscular man with legs like tree trunks and unsurpassed and rather endearing body confidence.
He took a big dollop of suntan oil and slapped it on his chest, rubbing it into his fur with a broad grin on his face, and then held out both arms towards us in triumph again, shook them and shouted, ‘Hey! Is Apollo, no?’
‘Abso-blooming-lutely,’ Effie drawled.
I could smell the bergamot tang of the oil and almost sense the heat of his tanned skin from my chair. You wouldn’t see that in Lower Begley.
I sighed. ‘Well, as my builder said to me when I wanted the shower moved, I’ve not seen it done before…’
I had no idea where or how to start. Then I noticed Costas had large beautifully shaped feet, like something from an ancient Greek statue, so I decided to draw one of them.
I looked around at my companions, all of whom had expressions of intense concentration on their faces, apart from Susan, who was sitting back in her chair frowning thoughtfully and sipping water.
‘Simply marvellous! He really is quite majestic when one gets over the surprise of seeing him déshabille,’ Beryl said.
‘My mother used to say it didn’t matter how handsome or muscular a man was, she said the acid test was could he put some shelves up for his mother, and I think Costas fills that brief very well. ’
‘He could probably put a house up, never mind some shelves,’ I said, head ducked down, focusing on Costas’s big toe.
‘That’s an awfully attractive trait, don’t you think?
’ Effie sighed, sucking the end of her pencil and leaving black marks around her mouth as a result.
‘For a man to do manly things. Building houses and digging holes and mending cars. I’ve always found mechanics and lumberjacks desperately appealing. And firemen.’
‘I have a calendar of firemen,’ June said in a loud stage whisper, ‘with their shirts off. I’m particularly fond of August.’
‘Is that the one with kittens?’ Susan said. ‘I’ve got that one too. It’s always a little boost to my morning. My favourite is February; he has the nicest seal-point Siamese kitten perched on his shoulder. But then they are so wide he probably has room for a couple of labradors.’
We worked on in silence for a while, and occasionally Costas shifted about and lit another cigarette, settling again with a smile on his face, obviously delighted to be the centre of attention.
About an hour later he signalled to Jillian that he needed a break, and he stood up and stretched his arms up towards the sky.
And then he snapped the two sides of his thong against his sides with his thumbs and for a moment we held our collective breaths as it seemed as though his barely there thong might fall down, but happily it didn’t and we all downed pencils and scurried off for coffee and more baklava, which Nina had kindly supplied next to the bar.
As we helped ourselves, she nodded and smiled proudly, obviously delighted that her husband was being so well received.
‘Eínai kalós ánthropos. He is a fine man, my Costas,’ she said, looking at him with hungry eyes. ‘He can unblock the drains faster than any man I know.’
‘I think this was a marvellous idea,’ Dennis said. ‘I’m thoroughly enjoying doing something different. I might suggest to Cassandra that she do something similar in Lower Begley when we get back.’
I thought about this. It was all very well for someone to do this on a Greek, sun-drenched roof terrace, where the temperature was still rising and the rest of us were getting very hot and sweaty. And at least we had the possibility of a dip in the pool afterwards to cool off.
I tried to imagine someone stripping off in Lower Begley village hall, where the curtains at the windows didn’t quite close properly and the heating was unreliable. I didn’t think she would have many volunteers.
‘How are you getting on?’ I asked Susan, who hadn’t been talking very much but had been bent over her sketch book all the time, with fixed concentration and a little smile.
‘Marvellous,’ she said, beaming. ‘I think it’s one of the best things I’ve done since we came here.’
‘I’m so pleased to hear that,’ Jillian chipped in, overhearing. ‘I’m thrilled. Sometimes it’s all we need, isn’t it? To look at our work with a fresh perspective and new ideas of what is possible. Let’s have a look?’
Susan put down her coffee, went to fetch her sketchbook and held it out proudly.
‘I’ve just drawn a tiny, important bit of Costas as well, for scale—’
I think there was a loud intake of breath at this point.
‘—and then I focused in on this…’
She had indeed drawn the top of Costas’s head with just a few of his vigorous, grey curls in the corner of the page, but the majority of her picture was taken up with the hotel cat, who had been peacefully sleeping on the wall behind him.
‘It’s jolly good,’ I said, ‘terrifically lifelike. Especially the whiskers.’