by Mandy Baggot
More tears dropped onto Megan’s cheeks then, flowing slowly down her face. ‘Sandwiches, rolls and wraps were what I shared with Dad. Every time you and Mum went to the library or to Old Mrs Mason’s house or to whatever joining activity you were involved in at school, Dad and I had a tea party.’ Megan sniffed. ‘We made all kinds of buns and fingers of sandwiches and pretended we were having tea at the Ritz.’ She smiled. ‘Dad would make the fillings and I was the bread-butterer then. And I always made the tea too. Not too strong, not too weak, with proper tea leaves. The sandwiches were our thing and that’s why I wanted to create It’s A Wrap, to remember him by. For Dad.’
Becky felt the pain in her heart as if it had just been pierced by one of Elsa’s sharp icicles. How had she not ever known? Why had Megan never told her? Why had their dad never said anything? Because it was their thing. Just like her gardening and herb-planting and fixing things in the shed with their father. It seemed she had completely misjudged her sister in so many ways and she felt like the worst sibling in the world right now.
‘But,’ Megan carried on, taking a breath and turning a little to face the sea scene, ‘none of that is going to matter anymore. After this incident I could lose the business and—’
‘No,’ Becky said firmly. ‘You’re not going to lose the business. I will take full responsibility, obviously. It is all my fault. I should have told you what I was doing. I knew that and I did it anyway because I thought that was the right thing to do and…’
‘And I made you feel you couldn’t tell me,’ Megan said, looking back to Becky. ‘Because I always accuse you of taking over.’
‘Which I do… because otherwise we wouldn’t be in this situation.’
‘Beck-Beck,’ Megan breathed, eyes still watery. ‘I know that – even though it’s super annoying and despite what I just shouted at you – I know that everything you do is to try to make my life easier.’
Becky couldn’t remember how long it had been since her sister had called her ‘Beck-Beck’. There was a total softening in Megan’s tone now.
‘I tried,’ Becky said. ‘I wanted to be there for you because, well, Dad had gone and Mum’s—’
‘Spending her money on arcade versions of Tipping Point.’ Megan smiled then, a whisper of it meeting her eyes.
‘I wanted to let you know that I wasn’t going anywhere. That I was here for you…’
‘I know that. I’ve always known that. And you forget sometimes that I’m the older sister. And maybe I’m not the most organised, or the most practical, but I can do life without you holding my hand.’
Megan was right. Megan was absolutely right. Sometimes, if you held somebody’s hand too long they forgot how to function without the support. She had said the same to Elias earlier.
‘I didn’t mean to say your sandwich fillings weren’t exciting enough.’ Becky was imagining Megan and their dad spending time together in the kitchen, laughing as they prepared delicate rolls and enjoying afternoon tea.
‘I did mean that you always take over,’ Megan replied.
Becky laughed then. She couldn’t help it. Amid the sadness and the crossness, their bond was reaching out, trying to find a way through.
Megan fanned the neckline of her jumpsuit. ‘It’s so hot here! Is it like this all the time in Greece?’
‘I don’t know,’ Becky admitted. ‘I haven’t spent all the time here yet.’
‘Oh, Beck-Beck, what are we going to do?’ Megan exclaimed, putting her hands into her hair and giving it a plump. ‘If Martin decides to sue over this then I really could lose everything.’ She swallowed. ‘We could lose everything.’
‘I’ll sort it out,’ Becky said, flinging her arms around her sister and holding her tight. ‘Let me interfere just this once more and I’ll try to make everything right again.’
Fifty-Six
Liakada
‘Is there something to need to tell me, Elia?’ Eleni asked him as she joined him at the bar of the cafeneon, hair wild, a spot of sauce on her left cheek.
Elias turned from his view of Becky, Petra and Megan. The three women had arrived half an hour ago all in much better humour than they had been at Villa Selino. Becky’s sister had even let Becky introduce him properly and given him half a smile. Her eyes might have shot a look that he had interpreted as he was under deep scrutiny, but she hadn’t voiced that opinion. They were now seated at a table outside about to tuck into plates of souvlaki. It was night. The sky was an inky blue, the air still humid and there was a buzz around the village. Panos’s Taverna opposite was alive with diners which might warrant the old man to serenade them with his violin later. Elias was waiting on a call from Chad.
‘I don’t think so,’ he answered his mother.
‘You and the English women. First two and now three? Do they follow you here from London? Is this how things work in England?’
He smiled and shook his head. ‘No, Mama.’
‘What is wrong with a nice Greek girl? I can make arrangements. Babis’s daughter from the hardware store is still available although, Areti says she has been seen at Fuego Bar with the son of the owner of the horse-riding centre.’
‘Mama, it isn’t that I am opposed to Greek girls,’ Elias answered, taking a sip from his bottle of Alfa beer.
‘It is not?!’ Eleni’s hand went to her heart then. ‘Well, I feel like I have been re-born.’
‘Nationality is not important,’ he continued, his eyes on Becky. He was watching her chatting to Megan and Petra, more animated than he had seen her before. The tension of earlier between the sisters seemed to have dispersed significantly. He looked to his mother then. ‘When you meet someone. When you connect with someone. You just know that it is right.’
Eleni seemed to hold her breath for a moment and Elias wondered how she was going to react. Would she see his moving on as a good thing? Or would she be disappointed that he was moving on with someone not from Liakada?
‘It is the one with hair like toffee,’ Eleni said with a sigh. ‘The one who tells me there is something missing from my stifado recipe.’
Elias smiled at his mother. ‘Yes,’ he answered. ‘And her name is Becky, Mama.’
‘I know what her name is. I do listen!’
‘Good,’ Elias said. ‘Because there is more great news.’ He put an arm around his mother’s shoulders. ‘Becky has worked out what should be added to the stifado.’
‘What do you mean what should be added to my stifado?! There is nothing to be added. Nothing at all.’ Eleni’s arms went up in the air like a protestor marching outside parliament. ‘That recipe was my grandmother’s and her grandmother’s before her and—’
‘And it has really stayed exactly the same?’ Elias asked. ‘No one made any alterations in all these years?’
‘No.’ Eleni folded her arms across her chest.
‘How would you know?’ Elias queried. ‘If you were not alive at the time.’
‘I just know! It is tradition! Traditions are things that are passed down from years before.’
‘I know what tradition is, Mama. But even traditions can be improved and changed.’
‘I do not like change.’
Elias shook his head. ‘Is this the same woman who wants to travel around Europe?’
‘That is different,’ Eleni told him. ‘I am not going to put all my possessions into a backpack and never come back. It is a holiday and we need to make sure your father is fit to fly.’
Elias felt his heart lift. They had talked about his mother’s adventure. She was planning a trip. They were planning a trip together. He squeezed his mother’s shoulder, unable to easily find words.
‘Stop looking like that,’ Eleni ordered him. ‘Your father is on probation. We are going to take things slowly. He is going to stay in the shed until I am ready for him to come back.’ She sniffed. ‘He is going to take me out. Like he used to. We are going to start dancing again. There is a place in Corfu Town.’
Her eyes were sparkling
as she spoke and Elias caught that moment before she shut it down again.
‘Nothing is decided,’ Eleni said quickly.
‘OK,’ Elias replied, still smiling.
‘Stop looking like that,’ his mother ordered. ‘We might not require your legal services yet, but anything could happen.’ She sighed. ‘I will not, and never will be, making him the breakfast of the English.’
‘OK,’ Elias said again, watching his mother start to toy with the strings of her apron.
‘And he needs to… start wearing aftershave again and… learn how to iron his own clothes.’
‘OK.’
‘And… and… I will stop taking him for granted,’ Eleni said, her voice choking up. ‘Because as irritating as he is for all of the time, I could not imagine my life without him.’ A tear escaped her eyes. ‘I don’t want to explore Europe on my own. Always the dream was to have him by my side.’
Elias drew his mother into a hug then. ‘I know,’ he whispered. ‘I know.’
‘And now you have made me cry!’ Eleni exclaimed in horror. She wrenched herself from Elias’s embrace and dashed away her tears with a fist. ‘I do not have time for tears. I have a party of walkers coming in in half an hour so…’ She waved her hands around as if she was waiting for Elias to complete the sentence.
‘So?’
‘What is this mystery ingredient the English girl is suggesting will improve the taste of my stifado?’
Elias smiled again then. He knew his mother would really want to know.
‘You will have to ask her,’ he replied. ‘And, Mama… her name is Becky.’
Fifty-Seven
‘So, asking for a friend… not really, I’m asking for me… how does it feel to know you almost killed someone?’ Petra asked with a grin.
With a mouthful of succulent chicken and red pepper, Becky couldn’t immediately respond. She desperately tried to chew so she could make comment, but it wasn’t happening. She knew that Megan wouldn’t hold back and Megan didn’t know how fragile Petra really was…
‘You really have no filter, do you?’ Megan retorted. ‘It’s very concerning.’
‘More concerning than nearly killing someone?’ Petra carried on, sucking on an olive.
‘Petra,’ Becky said, finally being able to speak. She took a sip of water to clear her palate. ‘We don’t know all the facts yet.’
They still didn’t. Megan had called Hazel earlier and Hazel said she thought Martin had grabbed the chickpea, chilli and cauliflower flatbread usually destined for Ambrose at the petrol station but someone had come into the florist’s to order for a funeral and Martin had got distracted and had flung a note at her and said ‘keep the change’. The allergic reaction had apparently been witnessed by Clare from the Co-op who was buying retirement party flowers and it was her who had alerted Martin’s boyfriend and Dennis the local builder who had provided the wheelbarrow to get Martin to the surgery… These details were great, but it didn’t help in terms of getting to the bottom of things. The three ingredients in that flatbread were not high-allergy risks. But Martin might not have known he was allergic, and if the flatbread wasn’t labelled… it was likely It’s A Wrap was going to be culpable.
‘Maybe,’ Petra began. ‘It’s all a con. You hear about it, don’t you? Like those people who claim they’ve had whiplash when they’ve been in a car accident that isn’t their fault.’ She slugged down the rest of her wine. ‘Maybe this Martin and his boyfriend are feigning this whole thing to sue you.’
‘I don’t think you can fake anaphylaxis,’ Megan responded.
‘No?’ Petra asked.
And suddenly Petra seemed to go rigid in her seat. Her face was turning chilli red, eyes bulging and she was gripping at her neck, mouth gaping like she couldn’t inhale.
‘Becky, where did you find her again? She’s quite mad,’ Megan said.
‘Petra, stop it,’ Becky ordered, flapping her napkin in the young girl’s face. ‘You’ll burst a blood vessel.’
Petra laughed out loud then and finally stopped herself from reddening, relaxing back into the chair. ‘See! Dead easy to fake.’
‘He went to the hospital,’ Megan told her. ‘I don’t think he could fake it in front of the doctors.’
Petra sniffed. ‘Well, these doctors work such long hours, don’t they? He’d only have to convince a really really tired one or a really really crap one and then job done.’
‘I’m sure it isn’t that,’ Becky said, popping a square of feta cheese into her mouth. Eleni’s food was excellent. This was simple fayre but delicious.
‘Martin has been a customer for a long time,’ Megan agreed.
‘There’s no loyalty these days though. It’s everyone for themselves. You’ve only got to look at these places that offer special deals for new customers only. Still,’ Petra said, ‘you’re going to get that party at the nursing home before your business goes under. Becky’s menu looks amazing. Even I wanted to eat it and I don’t remember any of the wars.’
Becky froze, the succulent tomato piece in her mouth suddenly tasting like the sourest gooseberry. The nursing home party pitch. The pitch Megan had told her to drop. Was this going to break them apart again now that Martin’s drama had strangely started to bring them together?
‘You did a menu for the nursing home? For their summer party?’ Megan asked.
‘Megan, I can explain. I—’
‘You didn’t listen to me,’ Megan interrupted. ‘You ignored everything I said to you.’
‘Well,’ Becky began. ‘I—’
‘Thought you knew best?’
‘Maybe.’
What else could she say? Everything her sister was saying to her was true.
‘Do I need to get another carafe of wine?’ Petra asked. ‘For the next bout?’
‘Not this wine,’ Megan and Becky said together. The speaking in unison might have been funny if they weren’t in the middle of another spat.
‘The food is very nice,’ Megan remarked. ‘But the wine is terrible. Why did you have it?’
‘Ha!’ Petra said. ‘Let’s see how you get on saying no to Eleni.’
‘Megan,’ Becky started. ‘I’m sorry—’
‘No, you’re not.’
‘Well—’
‘You’re not sorry, are you?’ Megan said, fanning her napkin in front of her face. ‘Let’s be honest here.’
Becky swallowed. Yes, honesty was always the best policy. ‘I’m not sorry.’
‘Good,’ Megan said. ‘Now we’re getting somewhere.’ She picked up her souvlaki skewer and bit a piece of perfectly chargrilled chicken off it.
‘You’re not angry?’ Becky asked.
‘I knew you were going to do it anyway.’ Megan shrugged. ‘Because I know you and although I said I didn’t want you to do it… I don’t know… I sort of did want you to do it.’ She took another breath. ‘I was just frightened for It’s A Wrap to try and do it.’ She paused for a beat. ‘Because, where you saw it as an opportunity to honour Dad, I saw it as something I was worried we wouldn’t get. And if we didn’t get it, I knew we would both be disappointed. Or, if we did get the job, I would be worried we wouldn’t be able to do it real justice.’
‘Oh, Megan,’ Becky said. ‘Really? That was all it was?’
‘It was enough,’ Megan said, about to take a sip of wine then seeming to think better of it. ‘Enough to send me into a frenzy and—’
‘Send me off to Greece.’
‘Quite.’
‘And I’m so glad you had this massive catfight over sandwiches otherwise I wouldn’t have met Becks,’ Petra added. She poured more wine into her own glass. ‘If I hadn’t have met Becks, I might have been in Piraeus with Marathon right now. Or in Kefalonia with Agelos. Or stroking Plato and Panos.’
Megan stared at Petra with no understanding whatsoever.
‘Don’t ask,’ Becky suggested.
‘And Becky might still be reading that book I threw into the sea earlier.’
‘What book?’ Megan asked.
‘It’s nothing!’ Becky said quickly. She shot Petra a warning look then followed it up with a second one, then a third…
‘How to Find the Love of Your Life or Die Trying.’
Becky was cringing now. She really didn’t want her sister to know she had given the slightest bit of interest to a self-help book of that nature. She hadn’t… well, only a bit. And only because it was there. Forced on to her by Hazel.
‘It’s Hazel’s book,’ Becky said out loud. ‘She forced it on me and I used it to… send me off to sleep when the sound of the air-conditioning was keeping me awake.’
‘It did help you snare Elias though, didn’t it?’ Petra said, her words flowing even more smoothly than the wine. ‘Was it the chapter on body language? When a smile is really give my number a dial?’
‘It sounds like you’ve read more of the book than me,’ Becky insisted. ‘A lot more.’ She turned her attention to the fluffy white dog who had stuck his head through the railings next to her. She petted its head and wondered if they could trade places…
‘Hazel loaned me a book once,’ Megan informed. ‘It was called Groomed: Care Down There. It was then I was convinced she had been looking at my online shopping order. One purchase of Nair and you have a problem apparently.’
Becky didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Instead she did neither and took a drink of wine, pretending it was something nicer and sweeter and not like she imagined the piss of the bear-thing to taste like.
‘Is it a holiday romance?’ Megan asked.
‘Petra and Marathon?’ Becky replied innocently. ‘Plato’s a cat by the way.’
‘This thing with Ell-he-has.’
Petra burst out laughing, slamming the table with her hand. ‘What did you call him? Ell-he-has? Well, Becks, answer that one. Is it “Hell He Has” or “Hell He Hasn’t”? Personally, I think it’s “Hell She Definitely Wants To If She Hasn’t Already”.’
‘Ignore Petra please,’ Becky said to Megan. ‘She gets even crazier on this horrible wine.’
‘It’s one of the benefits,’ Petra responded. ‘The only benefit actually.’