Chapter Nine
It had been a mistake to scroll Instagram.
She’d been feeling pretty good; she’d showered and teased her hair into shiny locks that fell effortlessly (after plenty of effort) over her shoulders.
Her skin was glowing golden from days in the sun and her dark eyes glittered large and bright under winged liner and the perfect amount of mascara.
The silky, rust-coloured dress clung in all the right places and added to the general effect of radiating a natural glow.
She sprayed perfume, added earrings and a necklace in a gold that complemented her mum’s bracelet, and realised she was ready half an hour early.
Most unlike her.
Not wanting to appear too keen, Nina waited in her room, streaming The Doors’ debut album, singing along and missing her vinyl collection. She cracked the shutters open to let in a salt-scented breeze, and picked up her phone.
And there he was. Sam. His beautiful face staring out at her from her Insta feed.
The shock was a punch to the gut, leaving her trembling and sick to her stomach.
And yet she couldn’t stop herself clicking on his profile, scrolling picture after picture of the face that had been so familiar, the face she’d woken next to every morning, kissing his closed eyes as she and Sam dragged themselves from their bed to get ready for work together.
The face that now smiled as though he hadn’t a care in the world. Picture after picture of him flexing his muscles or eating at a swanky restaurant or showing off the designer sunglasses he’d bought.
And worse than all this, was her.
Mags. The friend that Nina had taken under her wing at work, showing her the ropes when she started, taking her out for a drink after a tough day, inviting her to dinner parties where she met Sam. Nina felt sick.
She peered at all the pictures, trying to glean as much information as she could, picking at the wound of their betrayal.
What she found brought no comfort, as she scanned the background of the artfully posed photos and saw, to her horror, sitting behind Sam’s shoulder on a shelf in the flat that she’d so lovingly decorated, a lamp.
It was a nice lamp, of green ceramic with a green floral shade.
It was nice, but not to Nina’s taste. Certainly not to Sam’s taste.
She knew exactly whose taste the lamp was to: Mags’s.
Nina stared at the offending item until her eyes blurred.
Was Mags buying stuff for the flat, now? Was she decorating? Was she moving in?
Nina began to shake. Sam had promised her that Mags meant nothing to him, that their dalliance had been a one-off, that Nina was the one he wanted to be with.
The one he loved. They’d planned a life together, they’d had a good life.
At least, she had thought so. And here she was, broken and jobless and hopeless and alone.
Tentatively thinking about dating again, while he and Mags were shacking up and playing happy homes together.
At last she let the phone go and threw it face down on the bed, tipping her head back and trying not to ruin her makeup with the tears that pricked at her eyes.
She sniffed and dabbed with a tissue, trying to control the sobs heaving in her chest. Jim Morrison sang ‘The End’, describing a wilderness of pain.
Perhaps this was the wrong choice of music.
She felt like curling up in bed and sobbing. She felt like eating a bag of cheese puffs and drinking a bottle of pink wine.
She felt terrible.
Lying on her back so that she didn’t ruin her hair or makeup, she picked up the picture from the bedside table and held it to her chest, crossing both arms over herself as she hugged the image as tight as she would hold onto her mum if she had just one more chance to.
What would she say to her now, if she could?
Perhaps she’d tell her that there were plenty more fish in the sea, that she deserved better than Sam, that she was loved and precious and that one day she would find someone who truly saw her.
Perhaps she’d bring ice cream or chocolate, perhaps she’d hold her and let her cry. Perhaps she’d cajole her and tell her that no man was worth wasting a tear on, tell her to pick herself up and pull herself together and get on with life.
Nina had no way of knowing. But whatever her mum’s response would’ve been, she was certain she’d rather have it than be without it. Theo was the best dad, and she loved him. But sometimes a girl just needed her mum.
The knocking on the front door jerked her back to the present; she was all dressed up with somewhere to go and a handsome man who wanted to take her, and she’d never felt less like going out.
She contemplated telling Vassilis she was ill, getting into a baggy t-shirt and crawling into bed.
The last thing she needed was to give her heart to another selfish man who would ignore her and then cheat on her.
But for some reason, the version of her mum in her head told her gently that life was there for the living, and however hard it was sometimes, no good would come from hiding.
Nina sighed and heaved herself off the bed, kissing the photo and placing it back on the table as she heard the muffled voices of Theo and Vassilis through the floorboards.
It was just a night out, after all, she thought, plumping out her squashed hair and wiping the smudged mascara as best she could. She deserved a bit of fun.
Without much enthusiasm, she walked down the stairs. The prospect of an evening with Vassilis had seemed so exciting before, but now she felt a cold stone of dread settle in her stomach. Would she ever trust anyone again after Sam?
He waited at the bottom of the stairs, talking to Theo, and when he turned to look at her his eyes widened and he mouthed the word wow. A gratifying start, she had to admit.
He was wearing a navy linen jacket and trousers and a white linen shirt, open at the neck just enough to afford a glimpse of his chest, and holding a huge bouquet of red roses. He looked, Nina had to admit, breathtakingly handsome.
‘You look beautiful,’ he murmured.
Nina smiled. ‘Are those for me?’
He held out the roses. ‘Of course.’ He smiled, and Nina began to relax.
She took the roses and breathed in their gorgeous scent.
Sam had never given her flowers, and she was rather enjoying being made to feel special for once.
‘Is this your music I heard through the ceiling?’ he asked, pulling a face. ‘Very bad.’
He winked, and Nina batted him on the arm with the flowers in mock outrage. ‘Hey, that’s The Doors, it’s beautiful!’
‘If you say so. Leave the roses here, yes?’ he said. ‘Tonight I take you to see the best of Kefalonia. Bit more exciting than this little village, perhaps.’
‘Where are we going?’ she asked as Theo took the bouquet from her. She allowed Vassilis to lay his hand on the small of her back and gently guide her to the door.
‘Argostoli,’ he said.
‘Well, have a good night then,’ Theo called as they drifted away from him. ‘Not too late back, work for you both tomorrow, isn’t it.’
The door shut on him, and Nina chose not to imagine the outrage on his face. The night air was warm and scented with herbs, crickets chirped in the background, and Vassilis was holding the door of the taxi open for her.
‘What a gentleman,’ she said as he took her hand and she eased herself in.
‘Of course,’ he said as he closed her door and then walked around to sit next to her.
Argostoli was beautiful, and he held her hand lightly as he led her along the harbour, the waters clear and still, shoals of little iridescent fishes darting under the surface.
‘This is better for you, yes? Distract from these sad thoughts,’ he said.
Nina gazed at the sky sinking from swathes of blue to copper as the sun melted into the mountains on the other side of the harbour. At the water’s edge were restaurants and cafés, all elegantly lit and buzzing with people. She couldn’t disagree.
‘This is a special place I know,’ Vassilis said, leading her away from the water and into the streets of red-roofed buildings. ‘It is a little way, a small and secret place, not for the tourists.’ He smiled and took her hand, leading her to a quieter part of the town.
When they reached the restaurant, a beautiful place where the outdoor area was strung with fairy lights and plants stood in blue pots in the corners, Vassilis was greeted like an old friend. The waitress gave Nina a knowing smile as she led them back outside and up an iron staircase.
‘Wait, what’s happening?’ Nina asked. ‘I thought we were having dinner?’ She didn’t want to be rude, but her stomach was beginning to growl and she was looking forward to some calamari.
‘Our best table,’ she said.
Vassilis just grinned at her and winked. ‘I told you,’ he whispered, his breath warm against her neck. ‘I know all the right peoples!’
They soon reached a little balcony, strewn with candles and overlooking the harbour, where just one table stood, set with a white cloth and crystal glasses. Nina gasped. ‘Is this for us?’
‘Of course,’ Vassilis said, pulling out a chair for her to sit down. ‘Only the best!’
He took the menus from the waitress, smiling at her. ‘We shall have the Greek salad and the calamari. This is what you said you would like, yes?’ He glanced at Nina to check that this was indeed what she wanted, then back at the waitress, handing the menus back. ‘And a bottle of Ovilos.’