by Mandy Baggot
‘Rooooaaarr! Rooooaaarr!’
The person seated opposite him let out a noise Elias couldn’t distinguish between dragon or wolf protecting its young. And while he tried to decipher it, like it really mattered, he was still wondering what his favourite animal was. An octopus came to mind. No, they didn’t make a noise, did they?
‘Rooooaaarr! Rooooaaarr!’ The roaring was getting fiercer now, definitely dragon not wolf, but he was getting interference of chicken, cat and… pig? Was that a pig sound he could hear coming from across the room?
Now Elias really tuned into the pig sound. It was a gentle snort. Not the right at the back of the throat hocking up a large male hog might do. This was more of a quiet, considered, mere reference to a pig. And he knew exactly who was making it. He stood up and almost fell into the table.
Forty-Five
However strange Becky had thought Dark Dating sounded, nothing she had envisaged conjured up this. She was sat in a black room, sniffing her date’s aroma of figs and fish guts and making the sound of a piglet while her date pretended to be… well, she hadn’t quite worked out if he was a donkey or a camel. How long did they have to continue making this sound for? And what exactly was it supposed to tell you about a person?
Becky gave one more snort and decided to give up. She sat back in her seat and willed it all to be over. It didn’t seem like her date was going to give up braying or, whatever that sound was, any time soon and she already knew she wouldn’t be having any dates with anyone who could make that kind of noise, for fun or whatever else…
Except then the growling stopped, abruptly and Becky sat forward wondering what had happened? The rest of the room was still involved in the farmyard activity. Had he choked himself on his saliva? Had a heart attack? Then there was a whisper.
‘Captain Rebecca.’
‘Elias?’ God, had it been Elias making the camel noises? She might look at him in a different light now. It wasn’t the most attractive attribute…
‘I have come to rescue you. The only man in the village who makes a donkey noise like that is Manilos when he is herding his into their pen.’
It hadn’t been Elias making that row. This was good. Except…
‘What have you done with him?’
‘Don’t worry,’ Elias replied. ‘He is going to be enjoying the company of someone whose favourite animal is a dragon… or a wolf… I am not quite sure.’
She laughed, feeling a little more comfortable in this situation all of a sudden. Why did being with him do that to her? She shifted in her seat a little.
‘My mother has come up with some out-there ideas before… dinners dressed in nightwear, bring your yiayia to cake and coffee and leave with someone’s else’s, but…’
‘Your mother,’ Becky breathed, another laugh escaping. ‘Eleni is your mother.’
‘Yes,’ Elias answered. ‘Sorry, you did not realise? She has not said anything to you?’
‘No, I… we… that is, Petra mentioned you and Eleni gave us the impression…’ This was not going to sound right whichever way she put it. ‘Or rather, we got the impression she was your… lover.’
‘I feel sick,’ Elias announced. ‘Really sick. I might have to make the noise of a donkey.’ He began to cough and Becky really really wanted to see the expression on his face.
‘Are you OK?’ she whispered, leaning a little nearer the table. She could reach out. How big were these tables? Could she connect their hands?
‘No,’ Elias answered. ‘I need another drink.’ He cleared his throat before carrying on. ‘You really thought that we were… I cannot even say the word.’
‘Well,’ Becky said, ‘I still don’t know much about you.’
There was a silence between them and then the animal noises all stopped as Eleni spoke again.
‘Silence! Remember the animal noise that your date made. For the next round the men will be moving tables.’
‘Oh no,’ Becky said aloud. She didn’t want that. She was quite happy sitting here with Elias sharing this crazy mad experience together, if he was still going to be talking to her after what she had said about Eleni.
‘Becky,’ Elias whispered. His fingers found hers across the table and she held on. ‘I am not going to move from this table.’
‘OK,’ she answered.
‘And, believe me when I say this, you know more about me than anyone in this village… even my mother.’
*
Elias put a fork full of his mother’s stifado into his mouth and mused a little as the flavours coated his taste buds. They still could not see but finally they were allowed to talk. So far, through noises alone, he had learned that Becky was a morning person rather than a night owl – she had been very creative with hooting followed by the noise of a gunshot – and that her favourite music was a little bit Katy Perry, mixed with Sia and sometimes Bon Jovi. He hoped he had managed to get across that he was a morning person too and that he liked all kinds of music – it wasn’t often he had to attempt to make sounds of drums, electric guitar and saxophone…
‘Cinnamon,’ Becky told him. ‘A little too much. There was less cinnamon in the one I ate last time we were here.’
‘Do not tell my mother that. This is her grand recipe. The one she is well-known for all over the north of Corfu.’
‘There’s still something missing from it though,’ Becky continued. ‘I thought that last time, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. I still can’t.’
‘You sound disappointed about that.’
‘I am,’ Becky told him. ‘I told you on the boat. It’s what I do. Find the perfect food combinations, the correct balance.’
‘And I told you that that is a real skill.’
‘I don’t know anymore,’ she answered with a sigh.
Elias could imagine her expression. Her eyes would be lowered, her shoulders a little hunched, her hair a little over her face. He wished they could end this sideshow of Dark Dating and just spend the rest of the evening talking face to face, or rather, eye to eye. ‘Why do you not know anymore? What has changed?’
‘Because it doesn’t matter, does it? If people get the perfect sandwich. It doesn’t exactly change the world, does it? It’s lunch. It’s not… saving the rainforests or… building schools in deprived countries or…’
‘Helping men screw over their wives in divorce cases.’ He really wanted to see her expression now. Now he had admitted that was exactly what he had been doing. Yes, it had been about getting the best for his clients, but it had also been about trying to punish Hestia in the only way he could think of. It sounded so juvenile. And that was what his life had come to. Rage and childishness.
‘People, they’ve always needed me,’ Becky continued.
It sounded like she was eating again. Elias took another mouthful of his meal as he listened.
‘My mum and dad, they always turned to me if they needed advice on some modern-day technicality they didn’t understand, like online shopping or the Sky remote. Then, when Dad got sick, I naturally filled that role of visiting the nursing home the most and then Megan, with starting the business…’
‘It sounds to me that what you do is every bit as important as saving the rainforests to the people that care about you.’
‘You don’t understand,’ Becky answered with a sigh. ‘I don’t want to be needed.’
‘You don’t?’
‘No.’ She sighed again, this time far more heavily. ‘I want to be wanted. And although Megan needs me, she doesn’t want me. And… there’s no one else left.’
‘Becky…’ Elias began. He reached out to find her hand but connected with something else, something hard. Whatever it was fell to the table.
‘It’s OK. It’s been kind of nice being here in Greece and not being needed. Apart from with Petra, because she really does need someone and I haven’t quite got to the bottom of why yet, but, in between eating meat together and watching romantic comedy DVDs, I really think she’s starting to op
en up a little to me.’
‘You’re a caring person,’ Elias told her. Where were her hands? He was trailing fingers over the table, trying to distinguish what things were. Salt and pepper pots, the edge of the cloth, olive oil and vinegar… why had his mother put so much on the tables?
‘And my caring nature means I’m easy to take advantage of. That’s why I’m still working at It’s A Wrap, in the town I grew up in. Helping my sister not lose her business while watching her make a life with my ex-boyfriend.’
‘OK,’ Elias said. ‘I have had enough of this.’ He didn’t care about leaving before they had finished the meal. They could eat somewhere else. Somewhere they weren’t going to be watched or matched.
‘What?’ Becky asked.
‘We are getting out of here.’ He stood up, still disorientated by the dark but now no longer caring. ‘Mama! Put on the lights!’
‘Elias, she is not going to be happy if you do that,’ Becky gasped.
‘I do not care. I cannot sit here a moment longer talking with you but not being able to see you. This whole thing is ridiculous. Why should you like someone more if they make the sound of a stray dog or think the stifado is spicy yet sweet?’
Becky couldn’t help but laugh.
‘Mama! Put the lights on now or I will wander around the room, knocking into everything and everyone until I find the switch!’ He took a step to the left and banged into a table. ‘Signomi.’
‘Elia! What are you doing? Sit down!’ Eleni ordered him.
‘Mama, Becky and I are leaving now. Please show us where the door is.’
‘You cannot leave with the English girl.’
‘What?’ Elias baulked.
‘She is not your match,’ Eleni responded. ‘She make the sound of a pig.’
‘It was a cute-sounding pig,’ Elias said.
‘Your match should be Maria. I tell her to make the sound of the hoopoe bird.’
‘Mama!’
‘You liked to watch the birds when you were a boy.’
And now his mother was obviously intent on embarrassing him. He reached into the pocket of his trousers for his mobile phone. Swiping up and trying to remember the location of the ‘torch’ function he held his breath and hoped.
‘What are you doing?’ Eleni asked him.
Music started to play. The last thing he had listened to. It was Camila Cabello. He had pressed the wrong icon and now ‘Senorita’ was filtering out into the dark. He made a stab at the screen and finally a beam of light came from the top of the phone. He staggered back, confused by what he was seeing. His mother was wearing something over her face. Was that… were they…?
‘Mama! Are you wearing… night vision goggles?’
Eleni threw her hands up the air in frustration. ‘How else am I supposed to see anything?’
‘Becky,’ Elias said, turning to her and reaching out a hand. ‘Let’s go.’
‘Elias… Miss English… there are still two other rounds to go.’
He felt Becky’s hand meet his and he realised there was no way he was going to stop.
Forty-Six
Tavernaki Taverna, Kassiopi
This harbour was so beautiful. Becky was sat at a table outside a gorgeous cream-coloured old stone restaurant, overlooking speedboats, tourist cruisers and, across the gently swaying water, larger yachts – their masts tall, sails wrapped up for the night. Lights from the bars and tavernas reflected on the sea, trails of gold softly rippling with the movement of the ocean. It was one of the most idyllic settings she had ever seen. Sipping at a cold glass of white wine, she sat back against her seat and let the realisation of being here settle on her. She was here with Elias, about to eat food she wouldn’t have to describe the texture of, a car ride away from Liakada and Villa Selino. And they weren’t here together because they had been thrown together through a missed connection or stormy weather, they were here together because they wanted to be. It was a date… and it was something Becky definitely wasn’t going to consult How to Win the Love of Your Life or Die Trying about.
‘I am so sorry that call took so long.’ Elias eased himself back into his seat opposite her. ‘Nikos’s father answered and then he had to find Nikos and then Nikos wasn’t where he was meant to be and, well, I had to listen to father and son have an argument about why Nikos wasn’t where he should have been before I could even get to speak to him.’
‘He’s going to give Petra a lift back to the villa though?’ Becky asked, slipping her phone out of her bag. ‘And he’s trustworthy. He isn’t going to try it on or anything.’ She looked at him. ‘Is he under thirty?’
‘You are worried about Nikos trying something with Petra?’ Elias asked. ‘I am more concerned for Nikos.’
‘Elias, I know she comes across as this strong, take-on-the-world type but she’s really not… I don’t think.’
‘You can trust Nikos,’ Elias told her. ‘I promise.’
‘OK,’ Becky answered. ‘I’ll text her.’
‘And then you will stop worrying?’ Elias asked. ‘So we can enjoy the fantastic food coming our way?’ He swallowed. ‘And, so I can tell you everything else my mother doesn’t know about me.’
‘Yes,’ Becky promised, tapping out a quick message.
*
Elias was going to do it. He was going to be completely honest with Becky about what had happened with Hestia and how he had built his business on the back of that betrayal. He was both apprehensive and a little bit high on the anticipation. No matter what Becky thought or felt, even if nothing ended up happening between them, it would be a step forward for him. To admit to what happened. To tell someone how desperate he had felt, how cursed somehow. It was important.
‘Tell me,’ Elias said when Becky had put away her phone again. ‘Have you finished the plan of the party you were creating on the plane?’
‘Oh… yes, I have.’ She blushed a little and reached for her wineglass.
‘You are happy with it?’
‘I… think so.’
‘You do not know?’
‘I don’t know if I know,’ she answered softly, her eyes dropping to the table just as a waiter brought thick slices of bread together with garlic butter and a beetroot dip.
‘Why do you not have confidence in this?’ Elias asked once the waiter had gone. He offered Becky the wooden bread box and she took a slice, immediately tearing a piece off and dropping it to her plate.
‘Because I’ve never done it before. I’ve never pitched for a catering job.’
‘But,’ Elias began, smearing some beetroot spread onto his bread, ‘you tell me that you create all these unique recipes for customers sandwiches.’
‘I do.’
‘Then…’ He paused, watching her expression before he took a bite of the food.
‘It isn’t the same. What I do with people’s sandwiches is on such a small scale and it’s all about the individual. This has to be right for the whole group and if I don’t get it right and we don’t get the job then Megan will say “I told you so”.’ She pushed a piece of bread in her mouth and chewed. ‘But, then again, if we do get the job, she doesn’t want the job so… I’m pretty much screwed all round.’
‘You are not going to submit the plan at all, are you?’ Elias guessed.
He watched Becky shrug. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Captain Rebecca.’ He sighed. ‘Because you are worried about what your sister will say?’
‘I care too much about people. You said so yourself.’
‘What worries you the most about your sister? Because I think I know you are not someone who cannot handle a little “I told you so”.’
Becky looked across the water then, as if gazing at the view might help her answer his question. He took a sip of his wine and gave her time.
‘I worry that she will realise I’ve been holding her up since our dad died. I know that sounds silly because, in some ways, actually most days, I want her to know that I am more than someone who butte
rs bread for her business. But, in other ways, her realising that will probably mean this distance between us will get wider and wider until maybe it won’t ever be able to be bridged.’ She sighed. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want an MBE for services to Megan or anything, I think I just want her to take charge. That’s why I left on this housesitting break, to force her to take control, to back off a little and let her manage It’s A Wrap. I think maybe I’ve been doing too much handholding and maybe I’ve made her the way she is.’
‘Your sister needs to stand on her own feet and you need to discover where yours want to discover.’
‘Yes,’ Becky agreed, looking happier now. ‘I mean, if I send the party plan to the nursing home and we got the job I would feel compelled to follow it through and perhaps, after this break, I might want to do something else. Maybe I’ll be like Petra and travel some more.’
‘Really?’ Elias asked. His insides were quirking just a little. Knowing her base was in the UK, like his, had always felt like fate, but she wanted to explore and who could blame her?
‘I mean, I don’t really know. I don’t think I want to visit all the hotspots where they give out crap T-shirts and tattoo the wrong name on your arm but…’
Elias laughed then and brought a napkin to his lips.
‘How about you?’ Becky asked him. ‘When do you go back to the UK?’
‘I… am not sure.’
He wasn’t. He was still holding Chad at bay, leaving it twenty-four hours before responding to his emails, ignoring calls and blaming the time difference. Half of him was hoping Kristina was going to come back and he could have a frank and honest conversation with her about everything. The other half knew, as much as he had wanted to get in and take an inventory of the house, that wasn’t playing fair at all and any approach he made should be via her solicitor. But would he be the lawyer everyone wanted if he changed tack? His brand had been built on being cut-throat and taking risks… except it didn’t feel so good any longer.
‘My parents are… not together anymore.’