Chapter Six
The beach was not what she’d hoped.
There were no loungers, so she was forced to spread her towel on the sand and lie on that.
There were no umbrellas to offer shade, no waiters to bring her cocktails.
In fact, no sign of a café or bar nearby at all to provide her with the sustenance she needed.
She was a little put out; after everything she’d been through, she felt she was entitled to a bit of relaxation. And maybe a cocktail or two later on.
Well, she’d brought water and she was still full of bougatsa. So there was no urgent need, she had to admit, but this wasn’t the beach experience she’d been picturing when she was back in rainy England.
Still, she thought as she stripped to her pink bikini, covered herself in sun cream and stretched out on her towel.
This wasn’t rainy England; the sun was shining, the sand was golden and the sea the most beautiful turquoise she’d ever seen.
True, there were clumps of smelly seaweed at the shore and when one of the fishing boats came in spilling its slithering catch into unsightly tubs the stench grew stronger.
But mostly, it was just her and the sun, sand and sea.
Blissful. Occasionally a group of small children squealed as they paddled, water glistening on their chubby bare legs as parents looked on indulgently. But otherwise the beach was deserted.
There was something to be said, she thought as she reapplied sun lotion and peered over her shades at the laughing children, for not having to jostle for sunbeds or have your view of the sea blocked by all the other tourists.
Still, as morning became afternoon and she’d read a good chunk of her book, dozed and paddled in the sea, her stomach began to rumble, and she wished once again for a nearby source of food. Perhaps she’d stop off at Yiannis’s café on the way home.
She couldn’t resist one last paddle, though.
The warm water lapped around her ankles, and she gazed down in delight – the sea was so clear she could see the sand at the bottom and all the fishes darting around.
She wriggled her perfectly pedicured toes as they disappeared under the soft bed of the sea.
There was a time she’d have dived into this water, perhaps snorkelled, excited to discover the sea life that teemed under the waves.
She was tempted, briefly. But her makeup was still fresh and her hair carefully coiffured.
She’d look a proper mess if she got soaked now.
Right on cue, a spray hit her in the face as a couple of the children she’d seen before ran past, kicking up water and splashing each other as they squealed with joy.
A woman at the shore waved at Nina, calling ‘Sygnomi’ as she smiled apologetically and then reprimanded the children in a barrage of Greek, gesticulating at Nina.
The children, two boys of about eleven and four, Nina guessed, with tousled hair and mischievous bright eyes, just grinned at her.
She smiled back. The years spent with Heather had taught her patience when it came to children – Heather never saw their behaviour as a problem, just as an expression of energy or frustration or fear.
Or hunger. Nina was familiar with the irritations of feeling hangry.
She had learned to look at children the way Heather did.
She dried herself off and gathered up her things, feeling nicely relaxed, if not exactly stimulated.
She walked through Metalios before going home; it didn’t take long.
There wasn’t much to it – a couple of restaurants, a sprinkling of houses, a few quiet shops that mostly sold food, as well as the church, market and Yiannis’s café.
It was charming, but not exactly exciting; Nina couldn’t imagine what she’d do with herself in such a quiet place for the summer.
Luckily Kefalonia was a small island, and she was sure there were livelier parts of it than this.
She found a seat in the shade at the café and ordered calamari and sparkling water from a waiter who looked like a young version of Yiannis.
She guessed the café was a family business.
As he returned with the squid, hot and crispy and served with lemon and salad, the children from the beach arrived.
They hurtled up to the waiter, both flinging themselves at him and clasping him around the waist, so that he laughed and had to reach over them to put the plate on the table.
He shrugged at Nina, and she watched as the children both spoke to him at the same time.
The woman who’d been with them arrived, smiling and waving at Nina.
The waiter ruffled the children’s hair, pecked the woman on the cheek, and led them to a table in the corner.
He soon returned with two bowls of ice cream and a cup of coffee, and Nina smiled as she watched the children eat, the little one smearing food over his face.
They were momentarily silent, and their mum caught Nina’s eye over her coffee and gave her a conspiratorial smile.
Yiannis once again tried to insist on giving her the food for free when she left.
Eventually, she persuaded him to accept her money, but only after he’d insisted that she take two slices of baklava home.
On the house, of course. She didn’t take too much persuading; her mouth was watering as she remembered the delicious light, sweet pastry from last time.
Arriving at the house she felt refreshed, and optimistic.
Perhaps she could persuade Theo to go out for dinner.
Perhaps he’d show her some of the places he used to play as a child, or tell her some stories about growing up here.
Perhaps he’d even tell her about the time he and Nina’s mum spent in Kefalonia.
But as soon as she caught sight of Theo, she knew that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon.
He was bent over, sanding floorboards in a bedroom with what appeared to be an ancient sander, sweating through his shirt and red in the face.
He switched the machine off when he saw her, flinging out his arms in a dramatic gesture.
‘Where you been all the day?’ he demanded.
‘I – what’s the matter? I saw Maria and went to the beach and .
. .’ Nina flushed, feeling she’d done something wrong as she watched Theo’s red face grow redder.
He threw his head back, turning around as though there was an audience he could appeal to.
Nina tried not to laugh. That would not improve his mood.
‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Oh, oh she’s off lazing and dozing around and leave her baba slaving in the heat, is it?’
‘Well how was I to know you were slaving? You were still snoring in bed when I left, I thought you were still there.’
Theo widened his eyes and dropped his mouth open. ‘Oh yes, your lazy old baba been working and working all the day and you been hard at it on the beach, is it?’
‘I thought you brought me here for a break; you know I’ve had a tough time. It’s supposed to be a summer of fun and relaxing and –’
Theo was shaking his head, so hard that his face blurred before her, and again she had to stifle the urge to laugh.
There was always plenty of drama to be had in a fight with her dad, but neither of them ever took these arguments seriously.
She suspected Theo enjoyed the chance to exercise his dramatic skills, having been denied a life on the stage.
‘No, no, no, no, no what lazy girl summer is this? You’re here to be working and helping your old baba with the house, not la-de-da-da on the beach. ’
At this he held his hands up and flapped them around, swinging his hips and rolling his head from side to side. And Nina lost her battle against the laughter.
‘What’s that?’ she asked, gasping for breath and placing a hand at her side as laughter stormed though her again. ‘What is that supposed to be?’
Theo grinned. ‘It’s you, is what, la-de-da-ing on the beach all the day.’
Nina wiped tears from her eyes as the giggles subsided a little. ‘Yes, Baba, that’s exactly what I looked like.’ She shook her head, another laugh hiccupping out of her. ‘And I wasn’t on the beach all day.’
‘Oh no?’
‘No. I went to the café and Yiannis gave me some baklava. And now I’m going to eat both slices myself because you’re mean and you don’t deserve any.’
And Theo was off again, rocking back on his heels as though she’d hit him and rolling his eyes around. ‘Oh I see, this is the way it is, you leave me working and working until my old bones break and then, no, no baklava for Baba, Baba can be left to starve.’
Nina eyed the spot where Theo’s t-shirt had ridden up and the curve of his round belly stuck out. She doubted he’d be wasting away.
‘I’m supposed to be having a break, Baba, I should at least be allowed a day on the beach to distract me from all the crap I’ve had going on.’ She didn’t mention that she’d actually been expecting to have a whole summer on the beach. Perhaps now wasn’t the time to confess that to Theo.
He blew air out in a ‘pff’ sound. ‘Distraction, nonsense, working is good distraction, all you need, what good is lazy on the beach going to do.’
Personally, Nina thought that lazy on the beach would do her a whole heap of good, but looking at the bags under Theo’s eyes and the sweat streaks in the sawdust that covered his face, she relented.
Perhaps she should have realised that he was inviting her to help with the house over the summer, not just to have a holiday; there was a small possibility that she hadn’t listened properly.
‘Fine,’ she said, trying to sound as cross as possible. She didn’t want to let him off the hook too easily. ‘What do you want me to do?’
His face lit up. ‘You do this sanding, it’s too bad for my old back. And I will get ready for Vassilis. But first, baklava, yes?’ He grinned, the mischievous schoolboy look was back.
‘Okay,’ she said, handing over the bag. ‘But don’t eat them both! And who’s Vassilis?’
Theo spoke through a mouthful. ‘Builder.’
But Nina had already started the sanding, and was already annoyed. ‘This is a hand sander, Baba, we need a bigger one to do the floors!’
He shook his head, licking pastry flakes from the corner of his mouth. ‘Floorboard uneven, big sander misses lots, you have to do with hand sander.’ He waved a hand. ‘Chop to it.’
Nina gritted her teeth, her back already protesting and sawdust sticking to her mascara. ‘Hop to it,’ she muttered.