Chapter 39
THIRTY-NINE
‘I am going to miss you,’ I tell Kai after our farewell drinks. ‘Oh, and I have a gift for you.’ I hand him a gift bag containing a wide-brimmed sun hat. ‘It’s a genuine Akubra bush hat. Thank goodness for .’
‘I love it! Thanks, Erin.’ He tries it on for size. ‘Perfect. Do you reckon I need some corks around the edge?’
‘Not unless you are planning on going into the outback.’
‘Nope, Bondi Beach will be as wild as it gets,’ he says before he wraps me in a hug. ‘You know it would be great if you could nip over to Oz sometime; we could go surfing together.’ He grins.
‘I might just do that,’ I tell him, even though it is hardly somewhere you can just nip over to. I feel surprised at how sad I feel about his departure. We quickly became good friends, which I suppose happens when you work and live so closely together.
‘And don’t forget to send me photos of the opening day at the café – I’m gutted I won’t be there,’ he says.
‘Of course I will.’
It’s mid-September and one or two other staff have quietly left to return to college or prepare for university, with some local workers taking on extra hours when a plane full of holidaymakers arrives.
Some of the workers who have joined us for a farewell drink wish Kai the best of luck before they drift off to enjoy the rest of their evening.
We are sitting outside, the night still warm. I can hardly believe that in a few days’ time the café will open its doors. I feel quite proud of myself as I sip a drink and enjoy my final evening with Kai.
‘You know, you should feel proud of yourself,’ says Kai, echoing my own thoughts. ‘You come over here after losing your job back home and end up buying a café. That takes some guts.’
‘Thanks, Kai. I guess it does, doesn’t it? But when something feels right, it feels right.’
‘That’s my philosophy and it has served me well so far. I like to just…’
‘Go with the flow.’ I smile. ‘I know. And I am beginning to see the appeal in that.’
‘Let’s drink to that,’ says Kai as he taps his beer glass against mine. ‘To going with the flow and seeing where it leads.’
We gaze at the stars in the comfortable silence only good friends can enjoy.
‘Safe flight tomorrow,’ I say as I lean into him. He curls his arm around my shoulder and squeezes it.
‘Thanks, Erin. Oh, and I forgot to say earlier: I will miss you too.’
I did most of my furniture shopping online, and I watch the two workers negotiating the stone steps leading to the living quarters of the café.
Before I know it, my beautiful sofas have been installed and are sitting on the dark wooden floor.
In a short time, my bed will be delivered along with white goods for the kitchen, the doors of which are now a soft blue Shaker-style wood.
One of the sofas is placed facing the lemon grove outside, creating the most perfect picture window I have ever seen. The once pine wooden ceiling and beams above have been painted white, giving an illusion of height and space.
I sit for a short while just taking it all in, before taking a taxi to a shop just outside Rhodes town.
Driving along the coast road, I glance at the views outside and a slow smile spreads across my face. It is hard to imagine how anyone could ever tire of this.
Arriving at the store, I wander around, looking at an assortment of pretty cushions, soft throws and colourful rugs.
I am thrilled to hear that the shop offers a delivery service, and that any purchases can be dropped off later in the day.
It reminds me that I really ought to be thinking about purchasing a small car.
After picking out some delightful things, including a stripy rug in shades of blue and yellow, I take myself off for a wander through some more shops. I soon spot some handmade leather sandals, and after trying on a pair, I decide to treat myself.
Back home in the late afternoon, it isn’t long before my things from the store have arrived. By the time I have set everything out, I glance around with satisfaction.
The room looks simply beautiful. The stone-coloured sofas look relaxed yet luxurious, adorned with a cream fur throw and cushions the colour of the ocean.
My haul today included a small bookcase, where I can display some books and a candle.
I want to take my time on the finishing touches, but I am thrilled that it already feels like home.
My bed arrives and I make it up quickly, before flopping onto it exhausted. I could have asked someone to help me assemble it, I suppose, but if I am to live here alone, then I guess I ought to get used to doing such things. Luckily, I learned quite a bit from my dad, who was quite the handyman.
I FaceTime Mum.
‘Ta-da, what do you think?’
I walk around the apartment with my camera and Mum claps her hands together in delight.
‘Oh love, it looks wonderful! Douglas, come and have a look.’
Douglas appears and nods with approval. ‘You have done a great job there, Erin; it looks lovely. Time to book a flight over there soon; what do you think?’ he asks Mum.
‘We will do it this afternoon, now that we have picked out the dates.’
‘Brilliant, I will get the room sorted at the hotel; there are plenty available.’
‘Wonderful. I can hardly wait.’
‘Me neither, Mum.’
‘And good luck with the opening day. We will be thinking of you, lots of pictures please.’
‘Of course.’
I toss and turn for a while, thinking of the things I need to do before the launch party, before I finally feel my eyes grow tired. I need to get some sleep. Tomorrow is a busy day.
I take the short walk to the village shop, purchasing some milk before I enter the café downstairs. I find Ireta and Phoebe, despite my protestations, busy cleaning and setting out the tables and chairs.
‘Thank you so much, ladies, it smells wonderful in here. I think you deserve a break.’ I lift the milk. ‘Time to have a practice with the coffee machine.’
The sleek silver machine looks nothing like the one I used at my aunt’s café, and I peer at the buttons, before I fetch the instruction booklet. I open a bag of fresh coffee beans from a box and pour them into the grinder.
There seems to be a hundred buttons, and a touchscreen that looks like it might be able to order my groceries and play music. Maybe it can.
Things start off well enough, the milk in the jug frothing gently, before making a sound like an aircraft about to take off. The foam in the jug begins to rise and overflow, before spilling over like a washing machine flooding with detergent, as it cascades onto the counter.
‘Oh dear, I’m sure that can’t be right.’ I grab at a cloth before switching the machine off.
‘I see you have not practised.’ Phoebe raises an eyebrow as she rushes to my side, a smile on her face.
‘How did you guess?’ I grab reams of blue cleaning roll and wipe up the foamy mess. ‘Although I have been rather busy. I obviously thought it was simple to do.’
‘It may look complicated, but really it isn’t,’ she says, before switching the machine back on, demonstrating how much milk to use and pressing one or two buttons.
‘I think you simply put too much milk in the jug.’ She laughs. ‘The drinks are all pre-programmed. Just press the button for the one you want.’
Eventually I serve up three delicious cappuccinos that we enjoy with a caramel biscuit.
‘I’m so glad that didn’t happen in front of a paying customer.’ I giggle as I sip my drink. ‘I am so glad you are here, in case someone asked for one.’
‘Do you feel excited?’ asks Phoebe.
‘Excited but nervous,’ I admit. ‘What if no one comes?’
‘Of course they will come.’ Ireta clicks her tongue. ‘I have told everybody. And I have made enough spanakopita pies to feed the whole village.’
‘And I have made canapes, baklava and hummus. You only need to provide drinks and bread for the dips. Do you have them all?’
‘Yes. I have soft drinks, Prosecco and beer. And I am collecting the bread from the bakery in an hour’s time.’
‘And I have the ouzo.’ Ireta winks. ‘From my friend.’
‘Oh Ireta, that home brew stuff is strong. I am still not sure about that.’
‘Do not worry. I will keep hold of it.’ She taps her nose. ‘Only a shot for close friends.’
‘I really cannot thank you enough for your help – I certainly didn’t expect you to provide food though,’ I tell my new friends.
‘We wanted to. It is wonderful to see the café up and running once more,’ Phoebe says kindly.
Putting the finishing touches to the café, Phoebe and I stand on chairs at the opposite end of the room and hang up some bunting.
‘I am glad it is you who bought the café.’ Ireta gives me another awkward hug.
‘I am too. I almost feel it was meant to be.’
‘Here, I have something for you.’
She reaches into her hessian shoulder bag and hands me a glazed flowerpot, adorned with lemons.
‘You made this? Oh Ireta, it is lovely. Thank you.’
‘You are welcome.’
As I lock the café door, my stomach rolls with nerves. At noon I will be opening the doors to the public. I am keeping my fingers crossed that everything goes to plan. Maybe I ought to have asked Ireta for some of her friend’s ouzo after all.