Chapter 41
FORTY-ONE
A few hours later, the guests have drifted off, a few of them linking arms with Ireta and giggling as they walk.
I check my supplies in the fridge for tomorrow, when I hope I will have some paying customers call in. Cheeses and hams for paninis. Check. Local sausage and halloumi. Check. Salad leaves and tomatoes. Check. Milk for the coffee machine. Check.
I place a stand with chocolate bars and biscuits on the counter, along with the pretty plant pot Ireta has made and kindly gifted to me. The fridge has been stacked with bottles of water and soft drinks.
I make myself a cappuccino, successfully this time following Phoebe’s guidance, and I sit with it and reflect on the afternoon. I met so many nice people today, and I cannot help but smile when I think of the effect Zeta had on the local women.
I lock up and take myself for a walk, before Kostas, the boy I met earlier, returns.
I take a cut through a forest path that leads me to a stretch of beach.
The rolling sea welcomes me as I walk nearer; the sounds of the soft ebb and flow of the tide is soothing as it slides over the shingle and sand.
The brightness of the afternoon sun has softened to a pale golden light, the horizon soft and cloaked in colours of pink and lilac.
I slip out of my sarong and feel the water wash over me as I submerge my body.
I’m surprised to find it is a pleasant temperature despite the hour, maybe after the long summer months and the still recent high temperatures.
It feels glorious and I swim until I can feel the burn in my upper arms. I feel invigorated when I climb out and dry myself off.
I think of the day’s events as I turn onto my back and look up at the slowly fading light.
I never expected so many people to turn up, and I can’t help smiling when I think of Ireta and her home-made ouzo.
I feel blessed to have met so many wonderful people, some who have quickly become friends.
I think of how thrilled I was to see Takis, even though he could only stay for a short time, and daydream about where he might take me on our date.
I grab a peach tea from a beachside shack a little further along the beach, and by the time I arrive back at the café it is almost time for Kostas to arrive.
He arrives at precisely seven o’clock, his guitar slung over his shoulder.
‘Kalispera.’ He smiles a little shyly.
Kostas and his friends hadn’t stayed too long this afternoon, although they had a drink and ate a little of the food. Ireta told me that she overheard one of the boys saying that the café looked cool.
‘I don’t bring my microphone, but I think it will be okay.’
‘I’m sure it will be. Would you like a drink?’ I offer.
‘Just some water would be good.’
‘Coming up. Can I ask, how do you say the word “water” in Greek?’
‘Nero,’ he tells me.
As I grab a bottle of water, I write the word down into a little notebook I will keep under the counter. I figure the best way to learn how to speak the language is to ask the locals. Or Google Translate.
Kostas takes a sip of his water before he clears his throat.
I was expecting nothing more than a young, amateur voice so I am shocked by his rich tone and beautiful-sounding voice. He strums his guitar and sings a well-known Ed Sheeran song, and by the time he has finished I have tears in my eyes.
‘Wow,’ is all I manage to say. ‘I really did not expect that.’
‘Thank you. I have practised a lot of songs in English.’
‘Which explains why your English is so good.’ I smile.
I ask him if he would like to perform in the early evening the following Thursday.
‘You think people would like me?’ he asks a little doubtfully, despite his obvious talent.
‘I am certain they would. And hopefully if word gets around, we can give other budding artists a place to perform and build up their confidence.’
Kostas surprises me by placing his guitar down and giving me a hug.
‘Efcharisto. This may be the thing the young people need,’ he tells me.
‘I had better make sure my soft drinks are always topped up then,’ I tell him. ‘What do you and your friends like to eat?’
‘Paninis, waffles, oh and chicken gyros,’ he tells me. ‘A good gyros is hard to beat.’
‘That is good to know, thank you.’
I head to bed that evening feeling positive about the future of the little café. Tomorrow, I will open the café for paying customers. And pray that they will come.