Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
The morning aqua session is a lot of fun, and before I know it is lunchtime.
I am excited to see the progress on the café, as this morning the new windows will be in the process of being fitted.
I am so grateful to the workers who are putting in extra hours to get the job finished.
Today I have slices of melon, chocolate croissants and some lemonade for the workers, as it is already shaping up to be a very hot day.
My heart skips a beat when I see Takis walking towards me as I make my way to the café.
‘Hi Takis, how are you?’ I ask breezily.
‘I am good. Just heading back from a friend’s house,’ he says, and I wonder if he means his girlfriend, although I am not sure why he would make a secret of that.
‘I am just off to check on the progress of the work on the café,’ I tell him.
‘Mind if I come with you?’ he asks.
‘If you like.’ I shrug
‘I would. I am curious to see how things are looking,’ he says as he falls into step beside me.
‘I remember walking past here when it was Ireta’s place.
I have happy memories of calling in when I was young boy, after I had been swimming with my friends and my brother,’ he tells me.
‘We rode our bikes around here. Happy memories.’ He smiles. ‘At least most of them.’
‘It must have been a lovely place to grow up. Especially having a beach nearby too,’ I say. ‘Nothing like where I grew up.’
I tell him about the small town back home, where there is little to do.
It all felt so insular, and I would often hop on a train and spend the day in nearby Chester at the weekend, eating lunch overlooking the boats on the river before heading to the shops.
Returning to the small town where I lived, I often felt mildly depressed.
The one thing that kept me going was my job at the leisure centre.
Outside the property, Jack is overseeing the building work as two workers are busy lifting a new window ready to be fitted.
I introduce Jack to Takis and they nod politely at each other.
‘The floor came up good,’ Jack tells me, as I walk inside and Takis follows.
‘Wow, it certainly did,’ I say, impressed with how it looks. The tiles are sparkling, and I can picture diners seated at tables and chairs, enjoying a drink and a snack.
‘I have jet-washed the patio at the back too. And hosed down the canopy above,’ Jack tells me as we walk outside. ‘The garden still needs tackling though.’
‘I could help you with that,’ offers Takis. ‘Or anything inside, when I have the time.’
‘Really?’ I say in surprise.
‘Of course. It would be my pleasure.’
‘Right, I had best get on with this window,’ says Jack. ‘Good to meet you, Takis.’
‘Maybe I can help you with that,’ Takis tells Jack.
‘Well, I could do with some help lifting the window into place if you don’t mind. Leave the lads to crack on.’
‘No problem.’
Watching Takis lift the window with ease, and placing it in position, his strong arms bearing the weight, I never thought that window fitting could captivate me so much, Yet here I am, almost rooted to the spot as I watch him work.
‘A little to the right,’ Takis instructs, as Jack takes the other end and they slot the window into place.
There is something reassuring about watching Takis work, his movements capable and precise. Once more, I feel the heat in my cheeks, when Takis catches me watching him.
‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ I almost stutter.
‘Tell me if I have it in correctly.’ Is there a smile playing around his mouth? ‘I mean, does it look level?’ he adds.
‘Yes, it looks perfectly square.’ I nod, suddenly feeling in need of a lie-down.
‘Good.’ He winks as I suddenly finding myself thinking up other jobs. It’s a pity Jack and his team are so efficient.
Jack thanks him warmly for his help, before we walk around to the garden.
‘What do you think about having a pool table out there?’ I ask Takis, welcoming his opinion, whilst chiding myself for behaving like a lovesick teenager when I am around him. I am a grown woman who has purchased a property and left her old life behind, for goodness’ sake.
‘Out here?’ He frowns. ‘Surely this would be your own private space. You have the front area for customers?’
‘It’s true, I suppose. It’s just that some local boys were asking, and I would like a place for everyone in the community.’
‘Hmm maybe.’
‘You don’t sound too sure.’
‘I understand you wanting to include all ages in the community, but you do not want it to feel like the hangout for local teenagers. It may put customers off,’ he suggests.
‘I never thought about that. They did seem like nice boys though.’
‘Even so, maybe think about it,’ he advises. ‘I think that you could make a lovely garden for yourself. Everyone needs somewhere to retreat to.’
‘You’re probably right.’
Maybe it would not feel like a relaxing space with a large pool table, even if the café was closed. Perhaps there is something else I can think of to attract the young people inside. I don’t want to exclude them.
‘Right, well, I must be going,’ says Takis, glancing at his watch. ‘I am taking a group of tourists to the caves we visited. So much for my day off.’
A picture pops into my head of us of us laughing and splashing about in the water, before enjoying the delicious picnic. I had such a wonderful day and although a part of me didn’t want it to end, I didn’t want to appear too keen to spend more time with him.
‘Have fun,’ I say brightly.
‘I am sure I will not have as much fun as the day I went with you.’ He moves closer to me, and I feel that familiar flutter in my stomach.
His eyes meet mine and he is standing so close, I can smell his citrusy cologne. Is he flirting with me? And if so, why would he do that? Doesn’t he have a girlfriend?
‘It’s business, isn’t it?’ I say, matter-of-factly. ‘I’m sure you will give them the good service you pride yourself on.’
‘Right. Look, about yesterday, I just wanted to explain about Kato Petres Beach. I…’
‘Erin, can I borrow you a minute.’ Jack is calling me.
‘I have to go,’ I tell Takis. ‘Have a good day.’ I smile brightly.
‘You too. I guess I will see you around.’
‘I guess you will. Bye, Takis.’
Jack shows me a colour chart for the walls in the café, but I feel distracted. What was Takis going to say about the beach?
Eventually, I study the shades and after applying a few samples onto a white card, I settle on a white shade with a touch of green, that will feel like bringing a hint of the forest inside. A few plants dotted about, maybe a small olive tree in a pot in a corner, will set it all off.
If I close my eyes, I can see the café open for business.
Local women will share gossip over a coffee and some cake.
Tired walkers will stop off for refreshing drinks; maybe the older men will play dominoes at an outside table.
I will do everything I can to bring the café back to life and maybe it will become the focus of the village once more.
I am about to head home, when I notice Ireta watching the building work with interest.
‘Ireta, hi. I was hoping I might bump into you today.’
‘Kalimera, Erin. It looks like it going well.’ She smiles.
‘I think so.’
She is carrying a basket of wildflowers in colours of purple, white and yellow, and she tells me they are for her neighbour.
‘She is sick,’ she explains. ‘I hope the flowers will make her smile.’
‘That’s a lovely thought, Ireta; I am sure they will.’
‘I will also make her a special tea. She has a bad cough.’ She theatrically demonstrates a noisy cough.
‘Oh dear. That’s not good. What do you use for the tea?’ I ask.
‘Thyme, ginger, peppermint and honey. Plants are medicine,’ she tells me.
‘I do believe that,’ I say. ‘Although I would not be without antibiotics for anything serious.’
‘Of course, if you are very sick,’ she agrees. ‘But if you drink tea made from plants every day, you will not get sick,’ she insists.
I suppose there is a lot I can learn from Ireta. Including what kind of things to serve in the café.
‘I may need some of your recipes when the café opens. If you don’t mind, of course. What did you serve? Was it mainly snacks?’
‘Snacks, yes. Hot santouits.’
‘Santouits?’
‘Yes, village sausage, fried halloumi cheese, sometimes pork, inside the bread.’
‘Oh, you mean a sandwich.’
‘Nai, sandwich. Santouits. Maybe soup in the very cold weather. I can give you my soup recipe if you would like it.’
‘Thank you, yes, the soup recipe would be good. I guess you know what the locals like.’
‘I like to cook. I try to feed my daughter, but she prefers to snack on fruit and nuts.’ She throws her hands up. ‘No wonder she is as thin as a pencil.’
‘The food you mention is similar to what I was thinking of serving,’ I tell her. ‘Paninis. Coffee. Maybe omelettes as they are quite simple.’
‘Omelettes, yes.’ She nods.
‘I was speaking to Phoebe the other day in Rhodes. She said she loved working here.’
‘Ah, Phoebe.’ She smiles. ‘Yes, she was a good worker, always cleaning when the café was quiet. She is a good girl.’
‘I don’t think she enjoys her job in town quite so much. She misses the community feel here.’ I feel it is okay to tell Ireta this.
‘I imagine,’ she agrees. ‘It is mainly tourists in the cafés downtown. But it was good for her to have a change, I think.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Did she tell you about the boyfriend?’ she asks tentatively.
‘She did. Between you and me, I think she may be regretting turning down his offer of marriage. Gosh, I hope you don’t think I am gossiping,’ I say, wishing I could take the words back. Maybe Phoebe told me that in confidence.
‘I do not think so,’ she assures me. ‘I see already, you are someone who cares about people.’ She smiles. ‘I think working in town helped her get away from the gossips, especially the mother.’ She pulls a face. ‘A shrew of a woman. But now? It is forgotten, and they talk of something else.’
‘Village life, I guess. I bet I have been the subject of gossip for buying the café.’
She has a smile on her face as she shrugs.
‘So if things got busy, do you think I should offer Phoebe a job here at the café?’ I ask her.
‘I think you should wait and see,’ she tells me honestly. ‘If it is quiet, you may not be able to afford to pay another worker. At least she is earning good money at the café in town.’
‘You’re right, of course.’
‘But if you need a hand now and then, I will help,’ she offers. ‘No charge.’
‘Volunteer? I could not let you do that.’ I shake my head.
She shrugs. ‘What else do I do? Clean the house, chat to the other old ladies in the village, gather the herbs for the stew. I miss it,’ she says quietly.
I imagine how much Ireta’s life must have changed since her husband died.
Especially as they ran the café together.
She told me her husband would buy in supplies and keep the outside areas clean and tidy and that her heart was no longer in the café after he was gone. Maybe she needs a purpose once more.
‘Of course! I would love that. I just would not want to take advantage of you,’ I tell her.
There is a sudden sparkle behind her eyes. ‘I promise I would not be a nuisance,’ she says. ‘One, maybe two days each week. I can show you how to make my pulled pork. Very good in the santouits.’
‘Amazing.’
Ireta embraces me, then gives a little cough and looks slightly embarrassed.
‘Okay. When you are open, we can talk. Bye, Erin, enjoy your day.’
If Ireta is back in the café, even for a day or two each week, it might encourage the locals, as well as passing trade. And I will do some advertising too. Maybe I am taking a huge gamble and the café will not succeed. But I feel I owe it to myself to at least give it a try.