Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
During my break, the next day, I find Zeta and ask her about booking a boat trip with Takis in two days’ time on my next day off.
‘Of course,’ she says, smiling. We walk to the reception where she takes details of the trip I would like.
‘Very nice. And as you enjoy swimming and snorkelling, the sea at Traganou is perfect.’
‘Thanks, I will look forward to that.’
‘Takis will collect you at ten the day after tomorrow. That is his usual time; is that okay for you? You will take the boat from Mandraki harbour in Rhodes.’
‘Sure, that’s great. Thank you, Zeta.’
‘I will ask the kitchen to make a picnic for you, if you like?’ she offers.
‘A picnic? That sounds nice actually. Thanks.’
‘Enough for two,’ she adds.
The thought of sharing a picnic with Takis has me in a spin.
‘I know my nephew enjoys a nice picnic,’ she says kindly.
‘Your nephew?’ I say in surprise.
‘Yes. Takis is my nephew, although he is more like the son I never had,’ she confides. ‘His mother was away a lot when he was growing up, and she never quite got over—’
Just then a telephone rings. ‘Excuse me, I must get on. I will pass your message to Takis,’ she tells me, so I nod and walk away.
So Takis is Zeta’s nephew? That must be why she is so affectionate towards him, especially if she thinks of him as a son. I wonder what she was about to say before the telephone interrupted her?
I don’t have time to dwell on it, as my day is busy.
Manning the pool and covering for a sickness at the poolside bar has the hours flying by.
When my shift is over, I head to the café to check on the work.
It’s a pleasant early evening and I enjoy the chirruping cicadas as I make my way along the road.
Approaching the café, I can see that the floor outside has been flagged and tidied, and a temporary fence erected around it. I can hardly wait until work begins on the inside and if I close my eyes, I can already visualise how it will look.
The rough stone walls upstairs in the apartment will stay as they are, the brown wooden roof and beams painted white. Vases of wildflowers, white voile curtains and colourful rugs will complete the rustic feel. I can see it all now. The very definition of Greek chic.
Downstairs, I am thinking about displaying locally made pottery and maybe jewellery for sale in a glass display case.
With white painted walls and contrasting crockery in shades of green, my little café will be a haven to stop and rest. Zeta has offered to take me to a catering supplies warehouse for the coffee machine, telling me she can get me a discount.
‘It is most important that you serve good coffee. People will travel far for excellent coffee. You must buy the best machine too,’ she advised.
I take a photo of the newly transformed exterior and send it to Mum. Then I head inside and snap pictures of all the rooms in their current state, so I can keep a diary of the progress.
Glancing out of the bedroom window, the view once more takes my breath away. The sloping valley snaking down to the sea, the towering pines and the dazzling blue sky are a world away from the view back home and its grey, uninspiring outlook.
I let myself out, and after descending the rear steps, I see a young woman peering through the café window. I say hello and I make her jump.
‘Signomi. Sorry,’ she stutters, a redness creeping up her cheeks.
‘Please don’t worry,’ I assure her. ‘I understand people are bound to be curious.’
‘Yes, I am curious.’ She nods. ‘I used to work here, when Ireta owned the café.’
‘You did?’ I ask in surprise.
‘Nai. I was sad when the café closed down.’ She sighs. ‘I do not like the work I have now. My boss is strict. How you might say, a real taskmaster I think is the phrase.’
‘Oh dear, that doesn’t sound good.’
‘Please do not think I am lazy,’ she hastily adds. ‘I do the work of three people.’ She holds three fingers up. ‘When people leave, my boss, he does not replace them. He just gives me more tasks.’
‘That doesn’t seem fair. Do you still work in a café?’
‘Nai, sorry. I mean yes. I must remember to only talk in English to non-Greeks if I want to get better at it.’ She smiles.
‘Your English is fine, believe me.’ Her efforts make me a little ashamed that I only know the odd few words in Greek. ‘So where do you work?’ I ask.
‘In Rhodes near the harbour. The café is very busy. I miss the peace and quiet here.’ She looks around the tranquil setting. ‘And I enjoyed talking to the walkers who would stop and chat. The restaurant in Rhodes is far too busy for that,’ she explains, sounding regretful.
‘I was worried a café here would not be busy enough,’ I confess. ‘But I have since found out it isn’t far from the coastal path. With a little bit of advertising, I think it could be profitable.’
‘I think so too.’ She smiles. ‘People who follow the coastal path often head into this area for some shade beneath the lemon trees. If you enjoy walking, the walk from Psaropoula Beach near Rhodes town towards Kritika is very nice,’ she informs me. ‘Or Seven Springs.’
‘That is good to know, thank you. And if I need staff in the future, I will be sure to let you know.’
‘You will?’ Her eyes light up. ‘I make good baklava. And lemon drizzle cake.’
‘Two of my favourites.’
‘Although, Ireta’s lemon cake is better than mine,’ she admits.
‘Do you live in the village?’ I ask.
‘I do. Across the road from Ireta actually. My name is Phoebe. Please may I give you my number?’
‘Of course.’ I smile. ‘I mean, the café won’t be ready for a few months, and I may not need anyone initially. But of course, I will bear you in mind.’
‘That is all I ask. Thank you.’ She joins her hand together as if in prayer.
When I learn that the coastal walking continues for many miles, it fills me with enthusiasm.
It may be useful having a local working at least part time, in case there is a language barrier, confirming to me that I really ought to brush up on a few more Greek phrases.
It also means I can nip out if I need to.
I get a feeling she would be an asset to the café, given her experience.
Everything is beginning to feel real, and dare I say, falling into place. I cannot wait to get on with things.
Later that evening, it is impossible not to laugh watching Kai rotate his pelvis and declaring he is ‘all shook up’ as he takes centre stage in the lounge bar.
It is actually meant to be Queen night, but after the lady last night thinking Kai was Elvis, he has decided to go with it.
His toned physique is squeezed into a white jumpsuit with flared trousers studded with diamanté. In his black wig, he almost looks like a young Elvis standing up there. No wonder my aqua aerobic ladies seem to be swooning when I walk past their table.
Some of the younger crowd are sipping cocktails and scrolling on their phones, so it appears not everyone is as enamoured by Elvis, but the Apollo Hotel prides itself on having something for everyone. I am sure the disco will be more their thing, which starts in around an hour.
I am sitting on a barstool nursing a lemonade, smiling at Kai up on the stage, when Summer approaches having finished the kids’ disco. She is wearing her hair in pigtails and a purple cropped top and shorts combo, with a white trim.
‘Kai looks amazing, doesn’t he?’ she says as she glugs down some water. ‘He looks so confident out there.’
‘Do you fancy him then?’ I ask.
‘Funnily enough, no. I mean, there is no denying his looks, but I don’t see him in that way,’ she tells me.
‘I feel the same. I think Kai is the kind of guy who could have anyone he wanted, which means you could never entirely trust him,’ I say, as he flashes a smile at a passing waitress.
‘Anyway, I have noticed someone else around here, who quite takes my fancy,’ I say, as I picture the handsome face of Takis.
‘Oh yes, who is that then?’ Summer asks, her eyes widening.
‘The bloke at the bar the other night. Takis,’ I tell her. Even saying his name out loud feels nice.
‘Well, I could hardly blame you,’ agrees Summer. ‘Although I am not sure I could ever go out with someone so good-looking.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes.’ She nods firmly. ‘They would always have women making eyes at them, which I am not sure I could put up with,’ she admits.
I wonder whether she has been hurt by someone like Kai. Then I remember her telling me that she has never had a serious boyfriend, so perhaps not.
‘Anyway, I think the more you travel, it becomes harder to settle down. I am finding that already,’ says Summer. ‘Hardly the foundation for building a relationship.’
‘I get that,’ I tell her. ‘But you are so much younger than me. Maybe nature tells us when it’s time to think about settling down and putting down roots.’
‘When the biological clock starts ticking, you mean?’
‘I’m not sure,’ I admit. ‘Mine’s ticking away like a time bomb, yet here I am embarking on a new adventure. I guess life just happens.’
I imagine Takis would have the most gorgeous-looking kids. Gosh, what is wrong with me?
‘Maybe you’re right. I definitely think that things come to us when the time is right.’
The crowd bursts into thunderous applause when Kai finishes his set. Even the younger audience members put their phones down and join in the clapping.
‘Well, that went down a storm,’ I tell him when he joins us at the bar and orders a beer that is quickly placed in front of him.
‘Thanks,’ says Kai, as he takes a glug of the bottled beer. ‘Do you fancy a little less conversation, and a little more action then?’ He winks and Summer and I simultaneously groan.
‘Why, are you lonesome tonight?’ I ask.
Summer giggles. ‘You have got me all shook up.’
‘I can’t help falling in love,’ says Kai.
‘Let’s hope you don’t get hurt. This is the Apollo, not Heartbreak Hotel,’ I say and we crease up with laughter.
We exhaust the Elvis jokes, before we head off to our respective accommodation.
Before that, though, I take myself outside to a quiet area of the hotel that has tables and chairs overlooking an ornamental lake.
It is still pleasant even though it is after ten, the summer evenings becoming increasingly warmer as the days go by.
I find myself looking up at the sky that is studded with white stars and feel lucky to be here.
I am looking forward to my day off the day after tomorrow to head out on the boat with Takis.
I wonder if he might give me some input on the café renovation – maybe even lend a hand?
But perhaps that is a ridiculous notion.