Chapter 9
NINE
I meet Summer in reception, both of us dressed in pretty cotton dresses. Mine is white and hits just above the knee; Summer’s is a long emerald green off-the-shoulder number.
‘You look nice,’ we both say at the same time and burst out laughing.
The tall Greek guy I spotted this afternoon in reception smiles at us and wishes us a kalispera, and I feel dizzy as I smile back and nod.
‘Who is THAT?’ says Summer as her gaze follows him.
‘I overheard Zeta call him Takis,’ I tell her, as I also watch him walk away.
Outside, the evening is balmy, and we take the stroll downhill towards the town, enjoying the sound of the crickets in the trees as we go. The sun has not quite set, and the sky is currently a mixture of mauve and orange.
‘I am not sure I fancy the walk back up later.’ Summer pulls a face.
‘I wouldn’t normally mind, but maybe not after a couple of cocktails,’ I agree.
‘Exactly.’ She smiles. ‘And I don’t start work until noon tomorrow, so I am quite up for a night out.’
As we approach the harbour, the twinkling lights and the gentle buzz puts me straight in the holiday mood. The smell of food as we pass an outdoor kitchen fills my nostrils; lamb steaks sizzling on a BBQ, smoke spiralling in the air has my stomach give a little rumble.
We take a seat at a bar near the harbour, and a waiter quickly appears.
‘Fancy a pre-dinner cocktail?’ I ask as I pick up a laminated drinks menu.
‘Ooh why not.’ She grins. She has the widest of smiles and, in a certain light, has the look of a young Julia Roberts.
Over our cocktails, a mojito for me and a pina colada for Summer, we get to know each other a little more.
‘What did you do before coming here?’ I ask.
Gosh, this cocktail is delicious and slipping down far too easily. I had better take it slow. My shift starts at ten tomorrow.
‘I have always worked with children,’ she tells me as we chat. ‘Dressing up as princesses for kids’ parties, that kind of thing. I was an elf in Lapland last Christmas. They had a final dance show that I got to choreograph,’ she tells me proudly.
‘That sounds exciting.’
‘Yes.’ She nods. ‘It was a lot of fun. Seeing the faces of the excited children as they arrived in snowy Lapland to meet Santa almost made up for the sub-zero temperature.’ She laughs.
‘You obviously love what you do.’ Like me, I guess, she has found a passion for something.
‘Oh, I do. I went to musical theatre school, with a dream of maybe getting to the West End. Along with thousands of other young performers.’ She shrugs.
‘I can’t believe that was almost ten years ago.
Thankfully, there is lots of work out there, although I don’t suppose I can be a Disney princess forever. ’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Bit of Botox in a few years.’ I wink, and she laughs.
‘Dancing is actually my main strength,’ she reveals. ‘My singing and acting aren’t bad, but I am not a triple threat, as they call it in the industry,’ she explains. ‘I was lucky to get into theatre school though, and I learned an awful lot.’
‘Great. Maybe you can give me a few tips before the Abba night.’
‘If you like.’ She smiles. ‘So how about you? What’s your story?’
I tell her all about losing my job at the leisure centre and coming out here for the summer season.
‘When I realised my mum was having a better social life than me, I thought it might be time for a change,’ I admit.
‘It’s so easy to slip into a rut. After becoming single last year, my job became my focus.
My dad passed away unexpectedly at the beginning of the year, which has been unbelievably hard to deal with.
I’m hoping being here will finally get my ex out of my head, once and for all, and help clear my mind a little. ’
‘Ah, I’m sure it will,’ she says kindly. ‘I can’t think of a better distraction than a beautiful Greek island.’
‘That’s true. I came here with my ex James actually.’
‘You did?
‘Rhodes, I mean, not this hotel.’
‘Well, maybe it’s time to make more happy memories here in Rhodes,’ she says positively. ‘Reclaim it.’
‘Exactly that,’ I reply.
‘And I understand how your job can become your main focus,’ says Summer before taking another sip of her drink. ‘Other than work, I was spending too many hours alone in my one-bedroom flat watching films. What are we like?’ She laughs.
‘Here’s to us then,’ I say as I tap my glass against hers. ‘Getting out and seeing what life has to offer.’
‘And making loads of memories along the way,’ adds Summer.
I can barely believe I got on a plane alone and made this happen, and I am super proud of myself to be sitting here with someone who is such easy company.
‘Let’s drink to that,’ I say.
We finish our drinks then head down a winding side street, flanked by busy bars and tavernas, the sound of music mingling with the chatter of diners seated outside. I take my phone from my bag and pull up the name of the restaurant recommended to me by the taxi driver.
Taking a left turn, we find the yellow-painted building, which has dark wooden tables and chairs outside and the name The Olive Tree Restaurant written across a metal sign fixed above the door.
‘This place comes highly recommended,’ I tell Summer. ‘Although it was the taxi driver’s brother’s place, so I hope it lives up to his hype,’ I laugh. ‘He might be on commission.’
I surprise myself with my cheeky comment and hope Summer doesn’t think I am being too cynical.
‘Well, it’s busy so that’s a good sign,’ she says, glancing around the packed outside space.
As we wait patiently, a waiter zips towards us and shows us to a table that I never even noticed.
‘Is this okay for you?’ he asks, pointing to the table beneath a pretty olive tree that is draped in lights. A waitress is quickly clearing away the glasses and plates from the previous diners.
‘As long as we don’t get covered in bugs, yes.’ I laugh.
‘No bugs.’ He shakes his head, ‘Only the sweet sound of crickets. Although maybe as we are so full, the noise of people chatting and laughing also.’
He gives the warmest of smiles as he swiftly covers the table with a paper tablecloth, and the waitress returns with a menu that she hands to us.
It is difficult to choose, as everything sounds tempting but, eventually, we place our order.
We dine on the most delicious food. Summer chooses a traditional, creamy moussaka, which she tells me is one of the nicest she has had, whilst I opt for a slow-cooked lamb kleftiko.
The tangy rich tomato sauce and meat falling from the bone has me in raptures.
We share a crunchy Greek salad and a bottle of chilled white wine.
‘Your taxi driver was not exaggerating about the food here,’ says Summer, pushing her plate away. ‘I don’t think I will eat again for a week.’
‘That’s a shame.’ I nod towards a waitress who is approaching our table with complimentary dessert: a small slice of sticky baklava.
We somehow manage to eat the sweet dessert, before paying up and leaving a good tip.
‘Perhaps we ought to walk back up the hill to the hotel after all,’ says Summer. ‘Burn off some calories.’
‘It’s a shame we are not heading downhill, then we could just roll down,’ I say, clutching my full belly, and she roars with laughter.
‘Let’s explore a little more and decide if we want a taxi home later,’ she suggests.
Strolling alongside the mediaeval city walls, it is easy to imagine it in times gone by, the Greeks battling invaders from around the world.
The castle above stands proudly overlooking the cobbled streets, and a mixture of shops and cafés line the castle walls.
It makes for a stunning merging of the ancient and modern world.
‘This is the street of the knights,’ Summer tells me as we walk along. ‘I read about it on the plane whilst researching local tourist attractions.’
Glancing at the stone buildings with metals grids on the windows and the ancient cobblestone road underfoot, it continues to feel like we have stepped back in time. A sign points to a museum, that we both agree we will visit whilst here in Rhodes.
Moving on, we pass handcarts selling traditional Greek gifts of honey, olive oil, and bags of dried herbs. An artist is displaying his work on a cloth laid down on the floor, and gestures for us to take a closer look.
His watercolours are impressive and include paintings of traditional Greek houses with blue doors with cats sitting on the doorstep.
There are pictures of the harbour with pretty fishing boats in pastel colours bobbing on the water.
A painting of two old Greek men chatting on a bench overlooking a fishing boat, nets strewn on the floor, catches my eye.
There is something so authentic about the piece that I decide to buy it for my mum, who loves paintings of people in everyday settings.
Throngs of people are enjoying being outside in the warm evening, perusing the various stalls, and a young boy pulls his parents towards a creperie stand, the sight of a giant pancake being prepared and offered with chocolate sauce hard to resist.
‘There are so many pretty things here.’ Summer runs her fingers over a brightly coloured scarf on a stall. ‘But I had better limit my spending, until payday at least,’ she says sensibly. ‘Some olive oil soap might be nice though.’
She selects two geranium-scented soaps, and after paying the stallholder, she hands one to me.
‘Thank you, Summer, you didn’t have to do that.’
‘I wanted to. You have been so friendly to me since I arrived here. Some people think I am a bit much.’ She laughs.
‘You are who you are,’ I say, linking my arm through hers. ‘Anyone would be lucky to have you as a friend.’
‘Thank you.’ She beams, giving my arm a little squeeze.
We eventually head back towards the harbourfront, where the twinkling lights of the nearby boats dance on the water.
Strings of white lights adorn some of the seafront restaurants, where couples gaze at each other lovingly over bottles of wine.
I guess a place like this could bring out the romance in anyone. Even though my own didn’t last.
An hour later, both of us stifling yawns and having walked off our dinner, we decide to grab a cab to the hotel from a nearby taxi rank.
‘Thanks for this evening, I really enjoyed it,’ says Summer when our driver drops us off at the hotel.
‘Thanks for suggesting it. I had a great time too,’ I say.
As we say our goodnights and head to our respective accommodation, something tells me I am going to like it here. Especially after noticing the handsome Greek man at the bar.
Takis.
It doesn’t feel like a coincidence that I’ve spotted him again, and from the way he’s looking at me now, I can tell he’s thinking along the same lines.