My Greek Island Summer

by Mandy Baggot

  ‘We could drug his coffee,’ Petra stage-whispered, eyes roving over to the table where Megan was still talking at a rapid rate.

  ‘What with?’ Becky didn’t know why she had said that. She should have said ‘are you mad?’.

  ‘Well,’ Petra began, ‘I picked up quite the pharmacy from this stall in the backstreets of Mumbai. I’ll go and get my backpack.’

  Before she could try to leave, Becky grabbed her arm. ‘No! Don’t be ridiculous!’ She lowered her voice again. ‘We can’t drug him. I certainly can’t drug him. I’m already under scrutiny for food collaborations that have caused injury.’

  ‘I’m quite happy to do it,’ Petra insisted. ‘It might even help me get into a forensic psychology course I was looking at. You know, add a bit of spice to my CV… if I don’t overdose him… and kill him… and end up in prison.’ She sniffed. ‘What are the Greek prisons like do you think? On a scale of one to Guatemala.’

  ‘You’re looking at further education! That’s great!’ Somehow that news was the most vital part of Petra’s sentence.

  ‘Yeah, well, I decided that you might be right. That I need a goal and something to focus on that doesn’t involve jumping on a plane. I’m actually surprised my mum hasn’t come back to haunt me because of all the money I’ve spent on food that’s full of E numbers. One of the last things she said to me before I went to the music festival was I had to start eating more spinach…’

  Becky threw her arms around Petra and squeezed her tight. She had grown to really really care about her. Yes, she was all kinds of flippant and fickle and annoying, but she also had a good heart and a soft soul.

  ‘You’re squeezing my boobs!’ Petra said, trying to wriggle herself free. ‘And I don’t have much in that department as it is! And I really really want to be Rebel Wilson when I grow up!’

  Becky let go of Petra just as Lazarus appeared in their side of the kitchen. Megan was in hot pursuit, waving her hands in the air and looking concerned.

  ‘I think I’ll pass on the coffee,’ Lazarus stated. He looked at his watch.

  ‘Oh,’ Becky said. ‘But it’s almost done. It’s going to spit and gurgle and be sip-perfect any second now.’

  ‘I think I ought to get what I’ve come for and leave.’ He stood a little taller… if that was possible. ‘My client said I am to take the cars in the garage too – I have a trailer waiting on the road – plus the contents of her bedroom cupboard.’

  Petra stepped forward. ‘Well, you might have a problem there. Because there’s no key for that cupboard.’

  Lazarus patted the left breast of his leather coat. ‘I have the key.’

  Becky didn’t know what to say. She looked to the window, Elias was still pacing around the terrace, his phone glued to his ear. How was she going to stop this man from taking everything? Should she just let him? It wasn’t her fight, after all. But it was Elias’s. And Elias was planning to change his business, be less ruthless and win fairly. This wasn’t fair, this man under Ms O’Neill’s instruction taking assets that were jointly owned…

  ‘Shall you show me the way? Or shall I find it myself?’ Lazarus asked.

  Becky ran then, to the door of the kitchen that led back into the hallway and the bedrooms. She slammed the door and leaned against it. ‘I can’t let you do that.’

  Lazarus was moving towards her now, a determined expression on his life-worn face. Whoever this man was, he certainly looked like he was involved in all kinds of shady. ‘Ms O’Neill will be very disappointed to hear that. She did tell you I was coming here, did she not?’

  ‘Well, yes. But—’

  ‘But she said five o’clock,’ Petra jumped in. ‘Not eight in the morning when some of us haven’t even had a chance to cleanse, tone and moisturise yet.’

  ‘I am not leaving without what I have come here for.’ He reached forward and Becky held her breath and squinted her eyes closed. Was he going to manhandle her? She held her back to the door and waited for the inevitable…

  Suddenly there was a thud and Becky opened her eyes and leapt out of the way as the towering bulk of Lazarus dropped to the floor. Becky looked from the man to Petra and then to Megan. Her sister was holding her new handbag in a combative way…

  ‘As nice as this bag feels, it’s way too heavy,’ Megan announced, putting it back on her shoulder. ‘Especially when it’s full of duty-free perfume bottles.’ She stepped over one of Lazarus’s legs. ‘And no one threatens my sister.’

  ‘I like you!’ Petra announced all grins and excitement. ‘I wasn’t sure when you first got here but… I like you.’

  Sixty

  Panos’s Taverna, Liakada Village

  ‘I still can’t believe it! Three days in and I still can’t get my head around it!’ Petra exclaimed. ‘Even after seeing it all with my own eyes – and I did try to cuddle most of it until the policewoman dragged me away – Ms O’Neill had a Banksy and a sword that used to belong to Napoleon.’

  ‘Don’t forget the vases from the Ming dynasty,’ Megan added.

  ‘Honestly,’ Petra said, spreading a thick layer of olive tapenade on the fresh bread then dunking it in the pool of olive oil she had poured on her plate. ‘If I was going to spend my husband’s cash on valuables, I would have at least cashed in on something I could use. The cars I totally get – the Aston Martin was a dream to drive – but I would have bought up all the Hermes and Louis Vuitton before I wasted it on a sword that didn’t even win the Battle of Waterloo.’

  ‘Oh, I hear you,’ Megan agreed, taking a bite of saganaki.

  ‘I’m sort of glad you didn’t have a Louis Vuitton when you decided to hit Lazarus over the head with a handbag,’ Becky said, sipping a glass of Panos’s much-better-than-Eleni’s wine.

  ‘I agree,’ Megan answered. ‘I wouldn’t have wanted to damage it. I probably wouldn’t have even wanted to use it for handbag purposes.’

  ‘Just slip it out of its dust cover every so often – wearing gloves obvs – and cuddle it,’ Petra said with a sigh.

  Becky gasped, almost spilling her wine. ‘I’ve just realised you said you drove the Aston Martin! When? When did you do that?!’

  ‘Er… ha ha… moving on… someone, anyone… say something before Becky goes loco on me,’ Petra begged.

  ‘I’d like to say something,’ Megan said, addressing all three of them. She put her hands down on the table, fingers smoothing over the cloth like it was made by Louis Vuitton. ‘I’d like to say that I am so glad I came to Corfu. Yes, I booked the flight when I was full of rage and I entirely intended to sack you, Becky, after I had made you clear out your bank account to settle whatever lawsuit came It’s A Wrap’s way…’ She took a breath. ‘But somewhere in between the sweating from the humidity and the gorgeous views over that infinity pool and listening, really listening to my sister and—’ she directed her gaze at Becky now ‘—sharing feelings I should have shared so much longer ago… no matter what happens next with Martin or… with Dean or… with life… I think the Rose sisters have got this.’

  Becky felt her throat tighten as a knot of warm emotion lodged itself there and her eyes filled with tears. They were leaving tomorrow. Even Petra, who was heading to Switzerland to meet up with her crusty old aunt before she settled on selecting a college course. At the moment she was looking at two colleges, one in Hampshire and one in Lincolnshire. Becky was hoping she would plump for Hampshire because, for selfish reasons, it was much closer to Wiltshire and she really did want to keep in close contact with the girl she had grown so fond of. So, in just a few hours Becky’s Greek adventure was going to end. But wow, what an adventure it had been. And she hoped there was going to be much more Greek in her life from now on…

  ‘And,’ Megan carried on, ‘there’s something else I have to tell you too.’

  Becky closed her eyes, fearing the worst. Why did she always fear the worst? She snapped herself out of it and opened her eyes, ready to face whatever news this was.

  ‘I’m please
d to say… that It’s A Wrap got the job of catering the nursing home summer party,’ Megan finished with a smile.

  Becky’s mouth dropped open. ‘But… how? I don’t understand. I… didn’t pitch it. I didn’t think, given everything that…’

  ‘I pitched it,’ Megan informed. ‘After you showed me the menu, the absolutely brilliant menu by the way, I thought what sort of businesswoman am I aspiring to be if I’m just going to fall down and give up on It’s A Wrap after one incident? A possibly near-fatal incident, granted, but only one in all our time trading.’

  ‘I am really really sorry about that and I will get to the bottom of it and I will make sure that no ingredient is left unturned in the search for the truth.’

  ‘We will work it all out together,’ Megan said, putting a hand over Becky’s. ‘Plus, I need you to bring this old people’s party together. They were ecstatic in their reply.’

  Becky was glowing now. It was the best piece of news they could have received before they travelled home.

  ‘And I would like you to carry on creating your unique brand of flavours… if you want to that is,’ Megan said. ‘I mean, I don’t know what plans you have now you have a man in your life. Maybe you’re going to move to London and set up your own catering firm and take over the world. Which you probably should and definitely could. Or maybe you don’t want to do sandwiches at all anymore. Dad always said you could achieve anything and he was absolutely right.’

  ‘Megan,’ Becky said, hearing her sister catch her words. She squeezed her hand. ‘The way I remember it, Dad always said we could achieve anything. I’m not going to move to London. I’m not moving anywhere.’

  She might have had her eyes opened to exploring a new country, but home was where her heart was. Leaving It’s A Wrap would be cutting her nose off to spite her face. She loved what she did and now she and Megan had a brand-new understanding, Becky was sure things could only get better.

  ‘Phew!’ Megan said, flapping her hand in front of her face. ‘Because as competent as Hazel and Shelley are, they’re not… you.’

  ‘In that case,’ Becky said, ‘as I’m so highly thought of now, I do have a few conditions.’

  ‘I think we should discuss a pay rise after we’ve dealt with the Martin situation,’ Megan jumped in.

  ‘It’s not money,’ Becky said.

  ‘Shit, she’s offered you a pay rise. Take the money!’ Petra ordered.

  ‘I will want to visit London. As much as possible.’ Her heart was bursting with love for the man she had met in Row 18. The man she was spending the night with after this meal with Petra and her sister. They had plans for the kind of dessert that burned calories instead of putting them on and it made both her sets of cheeks flush at the thought of it. ‘I’ll obviously take my holiday days as usual, but I’m thinking… as many long weekends as I can. Working around events obviously.’

  Megan smiled. ‘I’m sure we can accommodate that, but you must promise me one thing from now on.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘No more secrecy, Beck-Beck. Everything above board and labelled.’

  Becky nodded. ‘Absolutely. I promise.’

  ‘Oh, about time!’ Petra said as Panos arrived at their table with his little notebook. ‘Now, I know it’s a bit out there for an evening meal but I’ve heard you do a cracking English breakfast. Can I have that?’

  ‘One breakfast of the English,’ Panos said writing it down.

  ‘But can I have it with a side of spanakopita?’ Petra grinned. ‘More spinach like my mum wanted.’

  ‘Could I have the kleftiko please,’ Becky said. ‘But could I have some of your honey with it, Panos?’

  ‘You want honey?’ Panos asked. ‘On the side?’

  ‘Well,’ Becky said, ‘I’d really like it spread all over the lamb knuckle, but I can do that myself.’

  ‘Honey on the lamb?’ Panos checked.

  Becky nodded, smiling. ‘It goes really well together, trust me.’

  ‘Yes,’ Megan chipped in. ‘Do trust her. She completely knows what she’s talking about. I’ll have the swordfish, please.’

  ‘You want honey on this?’ Panos inquired, bushy eyebrows raising.

  ‘Definitely not.’

  Becky looked out over the village square of Liakada and marvelled at its simplicity and homage to bygone times. A simple square of concrete earth, a few benches where men sat passing the time of day with each other as the sun went down, the grand olive tree watching over it all. The cream-coloured stray dog was sitting outside Eleni’s cafeneon, head through the railings, eyes hungry, waiting for a titbit of anything… and then Elias’s mother came onto the terrace heading towards the animal. Was she going to shoo it away? Becky watched. Eleni bent down towards the dog and threw down pieces of meat onto the street. It sucked its head through the rails and bent down, gnawing excitedly. Becky smiled to herself. Eleni’s bark was definitely worse than her bite. She had a good heart, exactly like her son.

  Suddenly her phone started to ring, vibrating on the table, a FaceTime call clearly visible. It was Hazel’s number.

  ‘What time is it in the UK?’ Megan asked, looking at the phone display. ‘Shouldn’t she be making fillings for tomorrow morning?’

  ‘It’s seven o’clock in the UK,’ Becky informed. She took the call, holding the phone in front of her and Megan. ‘Hi, Hazel.’

  ‘Hello, dear!’ Hazel shouted as if because they were in Greece she needed to yell to reach over the distance.

  ‘Hazel, there’s no need to shout,’ Megan said.

  ‘There is if you want to hear me over the sound of Shelley and her boys playing pole vault in the garden… and yes, I am inside the unit and yes, I have the door closed and yes I did say “pole vault”.’

  ‘Is everything OK?’ Becky asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Megan chipped in. ‘And please, please tell Shelley that if she or the triplets get hurt on It’s A Wrap property doing anything other than making rolls, she is personally liable and not the business. I’ve got one potential suing on my hands, I really don’t want to start collecting them.’

  ‘That’s why I’m ringing,’ Hazel said, the camera moving as if the woman was struggling to hold it in front of her face. There was now more view of the countertop than there was her.

  ‘What d’you mean?’ Megan asked, eyes widening in alarm. ‘She’s hurt herself already? Or is it one of the kids?’

  ‘No,’ Hazel interjected. ‘I mean, I’m ringing about the suing, dear.’

  ‘Oh, God,’ Becky said, her heart on her chest. She wasn’t ready to hear bad news now. Yes, there was facing up to things and handling whatever was thrown your way, but this was their last night. She wanted sweet Greek dreams and nothing to spoil her goodbyes.

  ‘I went into the florist’s today. To check up on Martin really, but I made up an excellent story about needing some oasis for a WI event.’

  ‘Oh, God,’ Becky said again. This wasn’t sounding very good.

  ‘Is he alright?’ Megan asked.

  ‘Has he had a relapse?’ Petra shouted. ‘I hear that can happen sometimes.’

  ‘Who was that?’ Hazel asked. ‘Are you not alone? Should I call another time?’

  ‘No,’ Becky said. ‘Don’t call another time! Just tell us!’

  ‘Well,’ Hazel continued, ‘Martin is fine and you’ll never guess what.’

  ‘No, we won’t!’ Megan exclaimed as if completely exasperated at her employee’s inability to get to the point. ‘We won’t be guessing as you are hopefully going to tell us right now!’

  ‘Well,’ Hazel began again, ‘his allergic reaction… it was nothing to do with the wrap he ate.’

  ‘What?’ Megan said, turning her head to Becky then back to Hazel, then back to Becky again.

  ‘It was a spider bite!’ Hazel continued. ‘Apparently, a couple of days before he was taken ill this beast that looked like one of those false widows, leapt out of a bunch of his Dusty Millers. Martin brushed it off an
d didn’t think anything of it, but it had bitten him on the wrist. Then, forty-eight hours later, infection started to take hold just as he decided to sink his teeth into his lunch hence why everyone thought it was food-related.’

  ‘And that we were to blame,’ Megan responded.

  ‘I,’ Becky said. ‘That I was to blame.’

  ‘Beck-Beck, there is no “I” in “team”, you know that.’

  ‘Anyway,’ Hazel went on. ‘His wrist is the size of a baby elephant’s leg and the colour of a saveloy now, but he’s on antibiotics to sort him out so, all’s well.’

  ‘I can’t believe it,’ Becky breathed. ‘I can’t believe it’s all going to be OK.’

  ‘I can,’ Megan said confidently. ‘I definitely can. I… just need to work out how I really feel about Dean and then things are going to be absolutely perfect.’

  ‘One more thing, as you’re there, Megan,’ Hazel said, moving the camera into a better position again.

  ‘Only good news,’ Becky begged, not wanting the bubble to be burst.

  ‘Dean’s here!’ Hazel announced. The camera swung around the kitchen and there was Megan’s boyfriend looking a little like nothing in the long-distance connection had been lost in translation.

  Sixty-One

  ‘Close your eyes,’ Elias whispered into Becky’s ear.

  ‘This feels like Dark Dating,’ she replied, taking tentative steps forward.

  He guided her gently along the path towards their destination, the fragrance of jasmine heavy in the air. It was a perfect night, the sky speckled with stars like someone had liberally thrown shiny confetti over the dark.

  ‘I don’t have to make animal noises, do I?’ Becky asked him.

  ‘Animal noises are optional.’

  ‘Is it far?’ she asked.