My Big Fat Christmas Wedding (17 page)

Excluding, of course, you know who. Grandma gave me one of her looks. As I packed my luggage and scone ingredients into the back of Uncle Christos’ car, she came outside and folded her arms.

‘So, your argument so bad with Niko, that you cannot bear seeing each other on this most important day.’

‘He’ll need rest and I’ve got things to do,’ I said and forced a wide smile. ‘It’s more romantic if we don’t see much of each other this week.’

Grandma raised one eyebrow so high, it almost disappeared into her floral scarf.

Fighting back the tears that had threatened to flow all morning, I shrugged. ‘Things will work out – now why not go back inside and treat yourself to another Metaxa brandy?’

‘My indigestion wouldn’t thank me,’ she said softly. ‘Pippa, my dear child… Niko told Sophia this morning that the wedding is off.’

My eyes tingled. ‘I thought he might have.’ Urgh! No. He can’t still mean it. ‘He’s not himself,’ I managed to squeeze out. I closed the car boot.

‘Oh Pippa – why didn’t you tell me? All morning your face has shown the truth – it is like gravity tugs down the mouth’s corners.’

‘Because then…’ My voice wavered as I struggled to swallow a sob. ‘I’d have to admit it to myself. Niko…that bump to his head – he’s bound to change his mind when he’s fully recovered.’

I couldn’t share my real fears, could I? As a family, we’d been so used to protecting Grandma from bad news. But then I studied her determined jaw and solid frame. What a change from her fragile build a few months ago. Deep breath. ‘Oh, Grandma.’ The sob shot out. ‘What if Niko doesn’t love me any more? What if he’s convinced I’ll never be happy here?’

Grandma gave me the tightest of hugs, whilst tears streamed down my cheeks. Then she stepped back, pulled her shawl tighter and demanded to know what he’d said in the hospital yesterday.

‘Hmm… Okay. We need to talk this through properly,’ she said. ‘I visit your villa later. You tell me everything – all the details about this plan of yours.’

‘I can’t expect you to do that.’ I sniffed. ‘It’s Christmas Day. And do you really want to walk all that way?’

‘Pah! You insult me. It is half an hour for me at the most. I’m not a lazy ass. The stroll do me good after an afternoon of cold meats and walnut spice cake. I can help you bake the festive scones for the fair. Okay?’

Her last word was more a statement than a question.

‘Okay.
Efharisto
,’ I said, for a few seconds enjoying the sensation of being about ten, wishing that Grandma really could make everything better. Like the time, years ago, she’d told me to blank the school bully instead of rewarding her with tears or sad faces; how the only way to grow my confidence in English Lit would be to read more widely. And that Christmas, just after Granddad died, together we cross-stitched a heart and, once home, I left it by his grave.

Feeling all fuzzy inside, I gave her a hug. Uncle Christos drove me to the villa, after we stopped off at the make-shift refugee camp in the empty school to donate some food Georgios had put together. Then I unpacked the scone ingredients and got to work, cheered by the thought that Grandma was coming and might be able to help me and Niko sort things out. Whilst working the dough, I went over the plan I’d thought up for my future. The kneading movement calmed me down and my eyes no longer pricked every time I pictured my fisherman lover, bloody shirt torn, lying on the ground behind the boat shed. Those images had haunted me in bed last night. What if he’d not made it to shore?

I straightened my back and reached for the scone cutter. Things could be worse. At least I had a chance to make things up with him – persuade him our destiny was to stay together.

As I placed aromatic circles of dough onto the baking tray the tightness in my chest alleviated.

‘So, tell me your idea,’ said Grandma, as she sat on the cream sofa. She’d arrived about half-past six and helped me pack scones into Tupperware boxes. I’d almost chuckled at the thought of me dirtying Mum and Dad’s kitchen, which had hardly ever been used, with its gleaming white units, cornflower blue cupboards and pristine silver appliances. On holiday, my parents ate out three times a day where possible.

The aroma of cloves, marzipan and sage and onion wafted around the kitchen. Christos would pick me up early tomorrow morning to transport me and the boxes to the main high street, where we’d set up the fair. I’d made them smaller than usual and it looked as if I had enough to feed the whole village.

I set my liqueur glass onto the low wooden table in front of us. Well, it would have been rude not to double-check the quality of the alcohol I’d used in the port scones drizzled with dark chocolate.

‘Okay, Grandma – but first of all, I haven’t had time to ask…’ I dabbed my eyes. They’d been blurry and wet most of the afternoon. ‘Are the villagers prepared for tomorrow? Hopefully there are no last-minute hitches with everything we’ve been organising the last couple of weeks.’ I took another sip of the ruby red liquid. ‘The Dellis made their jam in time, and miniature cheeses for their market stall? Demetrios will set up his pottery? The schoolchildren are singing? Pandora has sewn enough napkins and handkerchiefs? Stefan has organised the treasure hunt?’

Grandma smiled. ‘Yes. And as you know, the headmistress has arranged for the pupils to man all sorts of stalls to attract Kos children, like a chocolate tombola. Postie handed out the last of the flyers in Kos Town on Saturday. The tent is already up in the teashop to make the Santa’s Grotto. The school’s art teacher is coming over early tomorrow, to help us make it look Christmassy.’

‘And everyone has enough tables to set up on? I think the weather is due to be dry this week.’

‘Some have been borrowed from the school – others from painters.’

‘Ah yes, wallpapering trestle tables.’

Grandma put down her glass. ‘I don’t know if the refugees will venture into the high street – we could offer some of the children’s activities to them for free.’ She shrugged. ‘At least for the moment they are safe in Taxos, with food, shelter and electricity.’

‘Word is, Stavros is moving them on, to the island’s official registration centres tomorrow.’

Grandma raised both eyebrows. ‘Right. Okay. So.’ She stretched out her legs. ‘This plan…’

I picked up a notepad and biro from the coffee table.

I suddenly felt my face crumple. ‘Oh Iris – what if it doesn’t work? I can’t live without Niko… My heart…I swear I can feel it tearing in two.’

Grandma shuffled nearer, turned me and put a hand on each of my shoulders. ‘Pippa. No more crying. What’s done is done. Now you have to work a way out of this.’ Her voice became softer. ‘Niko adores you – everyone knows that. This is good. A strong building block to win him back. Now, focus and tell me your plan.’

‘Bossy boots,’ I said and we smiled. I straightened up. Grandma was right. I had to clear my head. There was no time to lose. ‘Did you know that when Henrik visited, he talked about the successful loggerhead turtle protection scheme that had been set up down south, on Kos? It involved a patrol team checking the beaches, plus an information bureau encouraging people to adopt a turtle. The benefits were two-fold, from both a wildlife and tourism angle.’

‘Yes. Niko told me what he said. But what has this got to do with you feeling happier in Taxos?’

‘Olivia, Henrik’s…’

Grandma nodded.

‘She’s a super-successful charity fundraiser. Her job sounds so challenging.’ I gave a small smile. ‘All things considered, Olivia’s a special kind of person and – despite everything – said to always contact her if I needed her expertise. You see, I’ve decided—’

‘To found a turtle charity here?’

My smile widened.

Grandma clapped her hands. ‘That expression on your face reminds me of the early days of when you set up the teashop.’

‘Oh, Grandma, I’m so excited. This could make such a difference. Give me the challenge I need to be happy here, long-term, using my business skills.’

‘But you have such a lot to learn, no?’

‘Absolutely. For a start, I need to decide on the trustees and sponsorship and to agree with the council on the area we can patrol.’

‘Fortunately you know Stavros.’

Yes. Corrupt as he was, the mayor and I had come to an understanding during the summer, when he’d been trying to push through the heinous plans to turn Taxos into just another tacky resort.

‘Henrik mentioned the name of the woman who set up the protection scheme down south – I’ll track her down. Plus we’ll have to rent suitable premises close to Caretta Cove. I thought of the old boat shed where I found Niko, near the fig tree.’

‘Niko’s old girlfriend, Cleo, is visiting him tomorrow, having heard that he had been injured. She works for an estate agent and could perhaps find out who owns it – see if they’d be willing to sell.’

My forehead tightened. Cleo? I remembered her from my childhood, one year when she and Niko were dating. Very glamorous. Determined to become a pop star. She’d dreamt of living the highlife in Athens. She knew all the latest hairstyles, plus cuts of jean. Cleo and I used to have little in common. In fact she seemed to go out of her way to be unpleasant, even though in those days, Niko and I were nothing but best mates and I’d in no way been any sort of love rival.

Grandma brushed down her red skirt and cocked her head to one side. ‘These initial costs… How are you going to cover them?’

‘Partly from my savings. Although I’ve thought it through and I understand now why Niko doesn’t like me using them for our everyday life. He’s a grafter…’

Grandma nodded.

‘If I keep subbing our lifestyle from my funds then there is no satisfaction when I have a good day’s sales in the teashop or Niko catches a decent amount of fish. Part of the motivation to work is earning good money. It’s like when I first left home, Mum and Dad offered to put down a deposit on a flat for me, but I wanted to do it myself.’

I blushed. Here was me talking about the choice of whether to earn my own living or not, whereas Niko’s family – everyone in Greece – had no such luxury. Savings were gone. Working hard was essential just to eat and pay basic bills.

‘I mean, I was very lucky to have their support. Not everyone enjoys that back-up.’ I cleared my throat. ‘However this charity needs hard cash to get up and running. I won’t touch my savings once it takes off but until then, I’ll need that money to cover essential costs.’

‘You said
partly
.’

‘Yes. I don’t want to dig a deep, deep hole in my savings – Niko speaks sense when he says we might need them for a rainy day. Therefore, I need to find a sponsor.’

Grandma sat upright. ‘Why not Orion Lakis?’

My eyes widened. ‘Oh my word… Of course!’ The boss of Creami-Kos – Stavros’ brother. Whilst the mayor had proven himself to dabble in dubious deals, in my experience Orion was methodical about working within the law.

‘It would be great for his company’s profile – working with a charity,’ said Grandma.

I reached over to kiss her on each cheek, nostalgia filling my veins as I breathed in her signature, flowery perfume. As a child I used to wonder if she made it herself. ‘Yes! Thanks for the clarity. He is the obvious choice.’

Yet her face fell. ‘This is all good, Pippa. Let’s hope it wins Niko around. But what if…’

I couldn’t help smiling, despite the hint at bad news. Good old Iris. Never afraid of confronting the niggly issues head-on.

‘Niko. What if him wanting to call off the wedding is not just a result of a bump on the head? What if he really does want to break up?’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ I said, quietly, a slight tremble in my voice. ‘Honest. I’m not saying it would be easy to live here and not be together with Niko, but, well, I’ve decided – my home is in Taxos. I don’t want to go back to the rat-race. It’s a dream come true working in the teashop and this charity venture – it’s a personal challenge for me. A lifelong one. It’ll make me develop new skills and utilise the ones I’ve already got.’

‘You are sure? This country…life here is so challenging and without love to carry you through…’

‘I have the love of good friends. I can manage in my parents’ villa until I find myself a house. Next door are also having problems with water and have rented a portaloo. I shall get one delivered before Mum and Dad arrive and that would stand me in good stead for staying there if needs be.’

‘What about London?’

I shrugged. ‘Yes, the buzz, the glamour of London, that’s appealing, but only for a visit. I know that now. Henrik wanting me to go to Dubai made me realise my love affair is with Taxos as well – the history, sense of community…this place has soul. Do you know, in London, I even missed the fresh smell of donkey dung, when I inhaled London’s traffic fumes?’

Crepey skin at the corner of Grandma’s eyes crinkled.

‘It was great to see my ex-colleagues again, but it reminded me that all we really used to talk about was work and the latest TV shows. I never got to know my colleagues personally, or my customers in the bank. And I couldn’t tell you the names of my neighbours. I don’t want to go through life like that.’

‘The village would miss you too, Pippa. Even Apollo the cat.’

‘But what shall I do about my parents? They are due to arrive in a couple of days. Is that long enough for me to change Niko’s mind?’

Grandma looked at me. ‘What does your heart say?’

‘My heart says that Niko is a stubborn man and that stubbornness gets stronger over time. So I need to act quickly to change his view before it becomes concrete. If I actually cancel the church and my parents’ visit he may never go back on his decision. I need to act promptly.’

Grandma smiled, showing the gap in her front teeth. ‘Did you know, Niko was the reason we got Apollo the cat? He asked one week for a pet and his parents said no. So over time he became more and more focused and started helping neighbours out for money, to buy the animal himself. He bought the food bowls, a collar plus a month’s worth of food and presented them all to Sophia and Georigos one night. How could they say no!’

I smiled. ‘Doesn’t surprise me. So… I’m going to carry on as if the wedding will take place.’