One Summer in Santorini

by Sandy Barker

  The waiter placed, or rather slammed, our plates of food down on the table and when he left we had to do a bit of rearranging to make everything fit. Gary was in the middle of telling us a story, and I could see where it was heading.

  ‘So, there we are, we’ve just finished this great meal – turns out Jack is an awesome cook. And then Janine grabs my hand and then Marie’s, and she says, “So, there’s something we’ve wanted to talk to you about for a while now, but we wanted to wait until the time was right.”’

  I groaned and put my head in my hands. ‘Nooo. I don’t think I want to know any more.’

  ‘You can see where this is going, right?’ asked Gary.

  I nodded, then lifted my hands and looked over at Josh. He seemed interested, but not quite sure where Gary was heading with the story. ‘Just finish, Gary,’ I said, laughing, and took a bite of my fish.

  ‘So, then she says, “Jack and I find you both very attractive—”’

  Josh gasped; he finally got it. ‘“And we’d like to invite you into our bed.”’ Gary punctuated his punch line by putting a bite into his mouth and chewing. I shook my head and laughed along with Marie.

  ‘That whole time we’re getting to know them, Gary and I are saying to each other how much we liked them, how fun they were, how glad we were to have met new friends that live so close to us.’

  Josh was still flabbergasted. ‘So, what did you say? How do you get out of something like that?’

  ‘Awkwardly,’ replied Gary with a mouthful of food and I laughed again.

  ‘No, really. How?’ Josh asked, his food forgotten.

  ‘Gary said – and, honey, I think it was pretty much as gracious as you could have been – “Well, that’s very flattering, thank you, but that’s not really for us. And I think we should go now.”’

  Josh nodded his head as though it was precisely what he would say in that situation.

  ‘That’s very diplomatic,’ I said. ‘So, I’m guessing you got the hell out of there and never saw them again?’

  ‘Oh, we see them,’ answered Gary. ‘They live right by us, and we seem to run into them all the time.’

  ‘Seriously, all the time,’ said Marie. ‘And of course, it’s uncomfortable. I mean, what are you supposed to say? “Hello, people who used to be our friends until you tried to sleep with us. Have you tried the new coffee house on Lincoln?”’

  By this stage we were all in fits of laughter. It got louder when Gary said, ‘So, Sarah, Josh, there’s something Marie and I have been wanting to tell you …’

  Without missing a beat, Josh added, ‘Well, I finally have something to write about for my “Dear Penthouse” letter,’ and then I laughed so hard I wasn’t making any sound, except for the occasional squeak.

  I glanced around, suddenly aware of how loud we were. Some of the other diners in the packed taverna looked annoyed with us, but our table was quickly forgotten when a ruckus erupted two tables over, and all the attention turned there, including ours.

  A group of six middle-aged Aussies – three couples – had finished their dinner and were quibbling over the bill. A look passed between the four of us as we openly eavesdropped. One of the men, who was sitting at the head of the table, had a brash Ocker accent. He was simultaneously making a dick of himself and upsetting the waiter.

  ‘Listen, mate, I don’t know where you get off charging us a service fee – a service fee – for what? A paper tablecloth? That’s bloody ridiculous – and how can it come to that?’ He stabbed a fat, red finger at the bill. ‘You’ve written it all in Greek, and you’ve obviously added it up wrong. No way does it come to that much – that’s sixty Aussie dollars!’ The other five added their agreement that they had been ripped off.

  I looked at the table, filled with empty plates and two empty carafes of wine; it looked like they’d had a feast. How could they be so horrendous? I couldn’t stand it any longer.

  ‘Excuse me,’ I said loudly enough to shut down the barrage of insults directed at the waiter. ‘What’s the problem?’ The man was too stupid to detect from my tone that it was a rhetorical question. I continued to talk over him as he attempted to get me on his side. ‘I noticed your table when we sat down. It was filled with plates of food, which you ate, and those plates were replaced with more plates of food. You’ve had at least two carafes of wine. And you’re quibbling over this meal –’ I gestured to the table ‘– costing you fifteen Aussie dollars each – wine and dinner?

  ‘You couldn’t get wine and dinner for fifteen dollars at the local RSL in Australia, and you know it. And furthermore, this is Greece, mate, and you’re going to be charged a service fee of a euro each for the bread, the olive oil – and yes, the paper tablecloth – no matter where you eat. So, why don’t you pay your bill and leave.’

  I turned back to my dining partners, who looked both shocked and impressed, and took a bite of my food. Replies of ‘Well, I never,’ and ‘Come on, let’s get out of here,’ emitted from the other table. As he passed me the man said, ‘You’re a rude girl, you know that?’

  I replied with, ‘You’re the one making Australia look bad,’ and then turned away from him and took a sip of the crappy wine. My heart was beating very fast, but I was glad I’d said something. People like that should not travel. They should stay the fuck home. At least they paid their bill.

  ‘Impressive,’ said Gary, looking at me as though seeing me in a new light.

  Marie was laughing. ‘That was brilliant. I don’t know if I could have done that.’

  ‘I thought I might have to fight the guy,’ said Josh, winking at me.

  ‘You could have taken that middle-aged guy,’ I replied.

  ‘Hey now – no derogatory talk about the middle-aged. Especially as I am well within that demographic,’ added Marie.

  ‘You’re not middle-aged,’ I retorted.

  ‘Well, depends how you define it. If I live ’til I’m eighty, then I’m more than halfway. Doesn’t that make me middle-aged?’

  Uh oh. I back-pedalled – vigorously. ‘Middle age is less about actual age in my mind – I think of it as a term to describe a mentality – like the word ‘youthful’. I mean, my parents are in their sixties, but I don’t even think of them as middle-aged – they’re youthful people. They’re vibrant and adventurous. Like you, Marie.’ I really hoped I hadn’t insulted her. I looked at her with a hopeful smile.

  She laughed – probably more at me than with me. ‘I get what you’re saying. I like the concept – I might steal it to describe myself from now on. I am forty-eight years young!’

  At hearing her age, Josh looked a little shocked and caught my eye. I nodded slightly as if to say, ‘Doesn’t she seem much younger?’ He surreptitiously checked Marie out while she and Gary shared a moment and with his own slight nod, Josh agreed with me.

  The waiter – the same officious one who had served us earlier – appeared at our side with a smile on his face and a carafe of wine. ‘Hello, this is for you and your friends. That man was very rude, and I am thankful for you, for your help.’

  Well, I hadn’t expected that. ‘Oh, you’re welcome.’

  He signalled to the wine, said, ‘Enjoy,’ and then went back inside.

  ‘How thoughtful of him,’ said Marie as she poured the wine into glasses.

  I was about to say I’d had enough crappy wine when Gary took a sip and said, ‘Oh, wow. This isn’t half bad. I think he broke out the good stuff!’

  The three of us took sips and agreed. ‘To the good stuff,’ I toasted, holding my glass aloft. There were clinks all around, and we finished our meal on an even better note than we’d begun it.

  We walked back to the boat in our pairs. It had been a fun dinner, even though the meal itself paled in comparison with lunch.

  ‘Tired?’ asked Josh.

  ‘Not really. I had a nana nap, remember?’

  ‘I remember. I also remember telling you what I wanted to do this afternoon.’ Swoon.

  ‘You said you
wanted to do that if we were alone on the boat. We were hardly alone.’

  ‘I am well aware of that, believe me. So, do you want to have a nightcap when we get back to the boat? We could sit up top,’ he asked.

  ‘Sure.’ Ahead of us, Marie and Gary held hands, and I can’t tell you how much I wished Josh would reach down and hold my hand. But he didn’t.

  At the boat, we said goodnight to Gary and Marie, which included hugs from Marie. I wanted to get a jacket from my cabin, and I was super quiet opening the door so I didn’t wake Hannah. I needn’t have worried; she wasn’t back yet. Josh made us gin and tonics – sans lime or lemon, because we’d run out – and we climbed up onto the deck and moved to the bow where we could talk without disturbing the others.

  ‘Nice night,’ I said, when the pressure of the silence became too much. I wondered why, when we could usually talk about anything, there were still times when it felt awkward between us. And then I wondered if it was just me, because Josh seemed to be studying the stars contentedly. He turned and smiled at me. Yup. It was just me. I really needed to chill out.

  ‘You know how you said you want your life to be bigger?’ I asked. It was a non sequitur, but he fell easily into step.

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Well, I do too.’ I took a sip of my drink.

  ‘How do you mean?’

  I paused for a moment, not quite sure how to phrase it. ‘Well, right now I feel completely stuck.’

  ‘In what way?’

  I laughed a wry laugh. ‘In every way. Even in the way I think about things. We’re sitting here, not saying anything, and I’m all tied up in knots because I think it’s awkward. You’re probably not thinking that at all.’

  I was relieved when he didn’t mock me. ‘No. I just like being with you.’

  ‘Me too. But why can’t I be like you, and just be? Why do I fret so much?’

  ‘You’re very hard on yourself.’

  ‘I haven’t even got started. The reason I long for something else, something bigger is that I feel so dissatisfied – and I have no reason to be, which makes me feel like the most ungrateful person alive.’ His brow furrowed, but he didn’t say anything, so I continued.

  ‘I mean, I have a good life. I do. I have good friends, and a good job, I get to travel quite a bit – which I love.’

  ‘There’s a but coming,’ he said, encouragingly.

  ‘But, so what? So, I have a “good job” …’ I made air quotes – I usually hate them, but they helped make my point. ‘But I don’t really enjoy it anymore. I mean, I love the kids – mostly – some of them are little ratbags …’

  ‘You said that before once – “ratbags”. Can’t say I’m familiar, but I can guess what you mean.’ He was lightening the mood. I appreciated it.

  ‘Well, they are.’ I smiled. ‘Anyway, the job itself is so political now, and a lot of it is unchallenging – it’s boring. I’m sick of it, but it’s a stable job, and it pays okay. Either I stay in it and continue to work my way up, which means less time in the classroom with the kids – the only part I still enjoy – or I take the leap and do something totally different, which scares the fuck out of me.’

  ‘It is scary thinking about changing jobs. I’ve been with the same company since I left college, and I am totally ready for something else. I mean, I see the guys around me at work – guys my age – and they’re getting married, and taking on mortgages and having kids, and I want the exact opposite of that.’

  ‘But you’re not actually worried you’ll get sucked into all that?’

  ‘No, but they’re on the treadmill, you know? Like …’ He made a gesture with his hands to show perpetual movement. ‘I want to do something more innovative, something dynamic. Not just nine-to-five with no end in sight.’

  ‘Have any idea what that is?’

  ‘Nope.’

  I laughed softly. ‘Me neither.’

  ‘And what about your friends?’ he asked.

  ‘I love my friends – I do – and I’m not really a person who has a lot of friends – just a few close ones. But at my age, all my friends are either married or married with kids, and as much as I love them, it’s not really the same between us anymore.’

  ‘No one to hang out with.’

  ‘Exactly. And how selfish is that? I mean, I want my girlfriends to be happy – and I think most of them are – but what I want for me is someone to go to the movies with, or go to dinner with on a Tuesday, or drink a bottle of wine with. I am so tired of drinking cask wine, which is the only kind I buy anymore, because it doesn’t go off if you drink it one glass at a time.’

  ‘You need new friends,’ he said, matter-of-factly. I looked at him to see if he was joking. He was.

  ‘That’s what I mean about sounding ungrateful. I don’t need new friends. I need to find a way to stop complaining and be grateful that, if I really needed them, I could call any one of them at three in the morning and they would be there for me.

  ‘Instead, I bemoan that I’m in a job that does my head in, I’m single – even though I really do think most men should fuck off and die – present company excluded, of course – and I am pretty much one floral bedspread and another cat away from becoming the quintessential spinster schoolteacher.’

  ‘Wow, you really are messed up.’ I could tell he was teasing me, but I was on a roll.

  ‘Right? That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. On paper, what do I have to complain about? I mean nothing, right? Yet, the truth is, I’m stuck.’ I paused, because what I was about to say really hit home, and my voice caught.

  ‘And I am really, really lonely.’ Wow, Sarah. You sure know how to impress a guy.

  Josh didn’t say anything for a moment, so of course, I apologised for my big reveal. ‘Josh, I’m sorry, I—’ And then he touched his hand to my chin and turned it towards him and kissed me, gently at first and then with more fervour. It was a different kind of kiss than the flirty one from the night before. I leaned against him as he wrapped his arms around me, and I realised I was seriously falling for him. Then – damn him – he pulled me closer and kissed me more deeply.

  Finally, we pulled apart and when we looked at each other there was no awkwardness – real or imagined – and there was no pretence, just honesty and affection.

  ‘Sarah, I think you’re incredible.’

  ‘I don’t feel very incredible.’

  ‘You are hard on yourself. Sarah, you are so sexy.’ I began to shake my head at the compliment, but he ignored me and continued. ‘And smart about so many things – and fun. You’re fun to be around – you’re always happy.’

  ‘I’m happy?’ Who was he talking about?

  ‘Yes – well, I mean maybe not right this second, but otherwise, yes. You laugh a lot. You notice the little things, those details most people miss because they have their head up their ass. And you take time with people – you get to know them, you care. You’re engaged in life, Sarah – I consider that a mark of a happy person.’ He paused, looking at me while I reflected on everything he said.

  ‘You don’t see yourself that way?’ he asked.

  My eyes filled with tears, and I started laughing and crying at the same time. Josh was right. The Sarah he knew was happy. So, who on earth was the Sarah I knew – the one who hated her job, and felt left out of her friends’ lives, the Sarah who was too afraid to fall in love again, because it would lead to heartbreak? What was she doing while happy Sarah was on holiday in the Greek Islands with new friends and a handsome American boy?

  I looked at Josh with what must have been both shock and joy in equal measure. ‘I am happy – right now, I am. And this feels right, you know? I want to be this person all the time. I’ve missed being this person.’

  He wrapped his arms around me again and held me in a hug.

  ‘I want you to sleep in my cabin tonight.’ I pulled back from the hug and looked at him. God, his eyes are beautiful. ‘We don’t have to do anything,’ he added, as if trying to reassu
re me. ‘I just want to be close to you, to sleep next to you.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Really?’ He seemed surprised.

  I laughed. ‘Yes really, handsome American boy.’ He smiled, but with a look that said, ‘Handsome American boy?’

  ‘It’s what I call you in my head,’ I replied, hoping I didn’t sound ridiculous.

  ‘I like it.’ With that, he kissed me on top of my head and stood up, pulling me with him. ‘C’mon, sexy Australian girl, let’s go to bed.’

  Chapter Eight

  When I woke the next morning, it was to sunlight filtering through the ceiling hatch and dancing across my eyelids. Glorious. I stretched luxuriously. I had slept so well! My bed partner stirred beside me as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. I reached for my water bottle and took a quick swig. Morning breath can be a bitch.

  ‘Good morning.’

  I swallowed, then rolled onto my side and propped my head on my hand. ‘Good morning.’

  ‘Sleep well?’

  ‘So well. You?’

  ‘I slept well too.’ He was smiling and I smiled back.

  You may not believe this, but we didn’t do anything. I mean, he did kiss me goodnight – rather chastely, I’d like to add – but then we fell asleep. Besides, even if things had got a little hot and heavy, there was no way I was going to have sex on a boat with paper-thin walls and five other people on it! It would have been too embarrassing. I was already wondering how I would explain to Hannah why I hadn’t slept in our cabin.

  My thoughts turned to the sleeping part of the night. Usually, sleeping next to someone new meant I barely slept at all. Instead, I’d sort of dozed, waking up at the slightest noise or movement, hyper conscious of the other person in the bed. It wasn’t like that with Josh. It felt normal.