Chapter 20 #2
‘As Scarlett O’Hara was so fond of saying, tomorrow is another day,’ Effie said, waving to attract Costas’s attention, ‘and the plane doesn’t leave until the afternoon.’
Costas had been peacefully sitting behind the bar reading his newspaper. He came over with a white cloth draped over one arm and a tray in his hand.
‘Ladies?’ he said with a broad smile.
‘Costas! I hardly recognised you with your clothes on. Do you think we could have a bottle of white wine and four glasses?’ Effie said sweetly.
He gave a little bow and ambled off back to the bar, where we could hear him crashing about for a few minutes.
‘He’s in a good mood for once,’ I said.
‘I expect he’s hoping we will leave him a nice tip,’ Beryl hissed. ‘He was just the same last time I was here. Jillian too.’
‘And how much are we expected to leave?’ I asked.
Beryl shrugged. ‘It’s entirely up to you.’
‘I’ve got a good tip for her,’ Effie said. ‘Bees Knees in the two thirty race at Doncaster.’
‘I think she’s lonely,’ I said, ‘and this place, organising groups like ours, is all she has. Which is a bit sad, isn’t it?’
* * *
I enjoyed our last evening together. We had a pleasant meal at the taverna down the street and while we were enjoying coffee and a last glass of Metaxa, Dennis stood up to say a few words, telling us how much he had enjoyed the week and thanking Jillian for organising everything and also commiserating like a teacher’s pet, with her efforts to control us.
Then Jillian stood up, blushing and almost tearful, and thanked us all for being such a fun group and how much she would miss us. I don’t think anyone really believed her, but it was a nice gesture.
‘Now then,’ she said, pulling out a folder from her capacious bag, ‘down to business. This is, after all, the awards evening.’
There was a murmur of excitement then, and Dennis sat up very straight and tried to look modest.
‘I’d like to thank my mother, my agent, all my fans and the whole team at Universal Studios,’ Beryl murmured. Effie giggled and gave her a nudge.
‘So, I have certificates of attendance for you all. And some of them have additional comments,’ Jillian continued. ‘The standard this week has been high, with a great many really accomplished pieces—’
‘It won’t be me then. I only drew Costas’s foot and some flowers,’ I murmured.
‘Or me,’ June hissed back, ‘but I have nearly finished knitting Nigel’s jumper.’
‘—but without a doubt, the artist of the week – and this is only my opinion – is Dennis.’
Dennis stood up smiling broadly and went to accept his certificate with as much pride as he would have accepted an Oscar. He decided to give another speech in honour of the occasion.
‘Well, I don’t really know what to say,’ he said, ‘I’m not a great one for talking—’
‘Could have fooled me,’ Beryl murmured.
‘—I didn’t expect this at all. But I will say it’s been a very enjoyable week, with some really splendid locations and vistas.
A decent room in a very pleasant hotel; thank you, Nina and Costas.
And the arrangements have been first class.
Thanks to Gregor for driving us, and to everyone in this little town who have made us all feel so welcome.
Apart from the man in the bakery who put onion in my sandwich when I quite clearly told him not to.
And to the lovely restaurants and cafés who have kept us well fed and entertained. And also I mustn’t forget—’
‘I thought he didn’t know what to say?’ Effie said. ‘He only needs to get onto the council workers, the prime minster of Greece and the Olympic movement and then he has all the bases covered.’
‘—and so farewell, friends, it’s been such fun. And getting this award is the icing on the cake. Or should I say on the vasilopita? Just my little joke. Sally will be thrilled when I get back and tell her all about it. I wouldn’t be surprised if she frames this and hangs it up somewhere.’
‘Bravo,’ Beryl called from our end of the table, and she started clapping. ‘Bravo, Dennis.’
We all joined in with the applause and Dennis went to sit down, looking very pleased and slightly embarrassed.
‘So this really is the end,’ Effie said. ‘Still, there is always next year. Another trip, a different activity maybe?’
‘Good idea,’ Anita said. ‘Anywhere warm, like this, suits me. Still, I’m looking forward to getting home and seeing Rick again, even if I do have to look at all his pictures of wet birds on a damp Scottish hillside.
He’ll be in such a great mood; I might even discuss the hot tub idea with him again. ’
And me? How did I feel?
A mixture of emotions. Part of me was looking forward to getting back home, doing my laundry and sleeping in my own bed.
The other part was slightly sad to leave this beautiful island where I had enjoyed myself far more than I had expected to, and also that things had ended like this, with Will leaving early without any sort of farewell or explanation.
And why? That was the nagging question at the back of my mind.
Oh well, I would just have to put it down to experience and forget about it.
It had been fun and rather exciting, but all good things must come to an end, after all.