by Mandy Baggot
‘You are the boss?’ Tess asked him.
‘I am the boss.’
Of course he was. Tess looked to Sonya. Her friend had released her hands and was searching the contents of her bag, as if trying to hide her tear-stained face. She turned back to Andras. ‘I’ll have full-fat Coke with three sugars, please.’
‘Three sugars?’ he queried, raising an eyebrow. ‘This is a lot of sugar, no?’
‘Is there a sugar shortage as well as a distinct lack of Internet connection?’ She wasn’t sure she liked her quirks being scrutinised.
‘No, I have sugar,’ he answered, smiling and taking a step back.
‘A couple more things,’ Tess called.
He stopped moving and she smiled.
‘Taramasalata for my friend, please.’
‘And for you?’ he asked her.
‘For me?’ She drew in a breath. ‘Well, Andras, seeing as your Wi-Fi isn’t working … you tell me the best place to stand in this village to get 4G and I might just tell you my real name.’
Fourteen
Her name wasn’t Patricia and he had told his mother. Andras shook his head as he headed back into the kitchen. It was OK. It was OK because unless he asked Patri – whatever-her-name was – for help, the two didn’t have to meet at all. She just had to exist. At the other side of the restaurant.
There was a tapping on his shoulder and he spun around, greeting Spiros.
‘Andras, what is going on?’
‘I have dishes to bring out,’ he answered, stepping on into the other room. The heat from the range of ovens hit him and Babis and Eryx were already there passing him orders – kleftiko and souvlaki for table eighteen. Dorothea had her scarf-covered head stuck in a pan of frying garlic and onion.
‘Mama says your girlfriend is here,’ Spiros stated bluntly.
‘Spiro, I am very busy,’ he replied, rushing back into the restaurant.
‘You ignored my advice and found someone to pretend to be your girlfriend instead of telling the truth?’ Spiros continued, tracking Andras.
‘And I am already regretting it,’ Andras responded. ‘You were right. I am an idiot and now I am in an even worse situation.’ He smiled at the occupants of the table for two. ‘Kleftiko and souvlaki. Enjoy.’
‘Marietta is nice,’ Spiros continued, following Andras again as he made for the kitchen a second time.
He looked over his shoulder at his brother. What was that supposed to mean? ‘I know Marietta is nice. She is my second cousin. You also told me about the benefits of building works and free meat.’
‘So, perhaps the best thing to do is to give her a chance,’ Spiros suggested.
Andras stopped walking and Spiros almost bowled into him. ‘Do you really mean that?’
Spiros shrugged. ‘Why not? You tried marriage your way before. Perhaps it is time to try Mama’s way.’
Andras felt the anger begin to bubble inside him. ‘Did Mama send you over here?’
‘No,’ Spiros answered.
‘Really?’ He eyed his brother with suspicion.
‘I am only thinking of you, Andras. I am leaving soon, and … I just want you to be happy.’
Andras tried to swallow down his frustration but it didn’t seem to be working. The animated chatter from his customers, the banging of pots and plates from the kitchen, were all making his hackles immediately raise up. Why was he always painted as the loose sheep who needed guidance?
‘You want me to be happy but you think I should marry someone not of my choosing?’ he asked Spiros firmly.
‘Andras—’
‘You chose Kira. You fell in love with Kira. Mama didn’t arrange your marriage.’
‘I know, but—’
‘I am divorced. It did not work out. It does not mean any relationship I might have in the future will end up the same way.’ He tried to stop his mouth forming a hard line. ‘And if it does, so what? It will be my choice and I will own it no matter what happens.’
Spiros put a hand on his arm. ‘You are angry.’
He drew his arm out of reach. ‘Elissa was not a mistake. We had good times together.’
‘But she left you,’ Spiros said.
‘And how do you know that the same won’t happen to you? People change. Circumstances change. Time changes.’
As soon as the sentence was in the air between them Andras regretted it. It had been cruel and unnecessary and he thought no such thing. Kira and Spiros were perfect for each other.
‘I am sorry, Spiro.’
Spiros shook his head. ‘No. It is OK.’
‘It is all this wedding stuff and Mama and Papa Yiannis, the restaurant being so busy and thinking about finding a new business partner.’ He undid the top button of his shirt. ‘I cannot focus on anything.’ He sighed. He didn’t want to focus on anything except living his life the way he wanted to live it, without all the suffocating trappings of his Greek family.
His eyes went to the table Isadora was sat at. His mother was getting to her feet, observing the room, looking … looking at … Not-Patricia.
‘Quick!’ Andras said to Spiros. ‘Get Babis to play the bouzouki.’
‘What?’ Spiros answered, looking bemused.
‘Greek dancing. Now!’ Andras walked into the centre of the room, moving in a diagonal direction to head off his mother. He clapped his hands loudly and called at the top of his voice. ‘Everybody! Tonight … right now … we will all perform the sirtaki dance. So please, everybody, stand up and join with us!’
He grasped hold of his mother’s arm. ‘Mama, you will dance with me.’
‘What is going on, Andras?’ she asked, eyes like sharp pins. ‘Greek night is not tonight.’
‘Why not?’ Andras said. He held up Isadora’s arm and span underneath it. ‘We are in Greece, no? Every night is Greek night.’
‘What’s happening?’ Sonya asked, turning her head away from the beach view as music began to play.
Tess looked as all the diners, some a little reluctant, rose from their seats, joining hands and shifting away from the table to find space. ‘I think we might be about to experience our first taste of Greek dancing.’
‘Ooo!’ Sonya said, excitement brewing. ‘Shall we join in?’
Tess’s eyes went to her phone. Vodafone GR was all it was managing. Not a flicker of anything World Wide Web related. She needed to look after Sonya, take her mind off the Joey situation, and now the potential baby aspect of the enforced break. It would be a whole lot easier to manage if she had sunk a large rose-coloured flagon of wine though.
‘Yes, let’s dance,’ Tess agreed, holding her hand out to Sonya.
But when skin met skin it wasn’t Sonya’s hand that found hers, it was bigger, stronger … and male. Before Tess knew it, she was being pulled away from the table by Andras.
Fifteen
‘What are you doing?’ Tess exclaimed as she was ushered through the gathering crowds, feet burning with every step.
‘Come, please,’ Andras stated, his gaze moving from her to the other side of the room and back again. He seemed uneasy.
‘But my friend is back there,’ Tess protested again.
He stopped walking and turned to face her. Eyes the colour of a deep, dark, chocolate gateaux. She swallowed in anticipation of … something.
‘I need …’ He stopped talking, eyes moving from her to the middle distance where people were beginning to sway in time to the finger-picking of the bouzouki. Whatever was going on here wasn’t coming easy.
‘I need your help,’ he stated.
Confusion furrowed her brow. ‘My help?’
He nodded. ‘Yes.’
She tilted her head a little. ‘We have to get our own starters?’
He squeezed her hand tightly, refocused his gaze on her again. ‘My mother is on her way.’
‘Your mother,’ Tess repeated.
‘Yes,’ he replied.
‘That’s … nice?’ she offered.
‘No,’ he sa
id quickly. ‘It is not nice. It is very … difficult.’ He sighed. ‘Please, just … join in with the dancing and I will try to keep her away.’
‘What?’
‘But if I cannot, just agree with everything I say.’ He went to leave, then swung back, taking hold of her hand again. ‘And your name. It has to be Patricia.’
With those words said, he joined her hand with a woman just moving into the circle of dancers. Tess turned back, ready to interject but he was already gone, clapping his hands and paying attention to an older woman with her dark hair in a tight bun.
‘What happened there?’ Sonya asked, muscling in next to Tess and taking hold of her hand. ‘That was almost a Mills and Boon moment.’ She grinned. ‘Kidnapped by the Gorgeous Greek.’
‘Something’s happening,’ Tess stated, her eyes still fixed on Andras and the woman he was encouraging to dance despite her reluctance. ‘And apparently, I’m at the centre of it.’
‘What?’ Sonya asked, stepping left then right as one of the waiters started shouting movement instructions.
‘Apparently, the boss needs me to agree with everything he says and pretend my name is Patricia.’
‘You did tell him your name was Patricia,’ Sonya reminded as she swung her right leg across her left leg.
‘I know but—’
‘You’re not thinking of hooking up with him, are you?’ Sonya asked.
‘Opa!’ one of the waiters exclaimed as they drew the wobbly circle first in and then out across the flagstone floor.
‘No,’ Tess replied. ‘Of course not.’ Although it had been too many days without a male partner on her Facebook page, and his eyes were delicious. ‘Single all the way.’
‘This way,’ Andras called, arm around Isadora on his right and a customer on his left. ‘And that.’
He felt his mother move her arm, shrugging and attempting to work her way out from the circle.
‘Let me go, Andras,’ she said. ‘I want to meet with your girlfriend.’
‘She is dancing,’ Andras said, realigning his mother’s arm. ‘Like we are dancing.’
‘When people should still be eating,’ Isadora stated. ‘It is not even nine o’ clock and it is not Greek night.’
With one quick twist, Isadora slipped her arm from his and spun from the circle, making quick stick-aided strides across the room towards Patricia-who-wasn’t-Patricia.
He backed out of the dancing too and headed after her.
‘Mama!’
‘What is the matter, Andras?’ Isadora said. ‘This girlfriend of yours has travelled from the UK to see you and you do not seem to want to introduce her to me.’
‘I … it isn’t that …’
‘No?’ Isadora asked, stopping now she was only a metre or so away from the girl with the blonde hair.
‘No.’
‘Then introduce me,’ she said with relish.
His eyes found ‘Patricia’. She was going through the motions of Greek dancing, the sheer fabric of her dress shimmering as she moved, but she was looking directly back at him. There was only one thing he could do.
‘Fine,’ he answered, ushering his mother forward. ‘I will introduce you.’
‘They’re coming,’ Tess said through gritted teeth.
‘Who?’
‘Andras and, I presume, his mother.’
‘What do they want?’
‘I have no idea.’ She smiled at the advancing pair.
‘Patricia,’ Andras greeted, stepping forward. ‘I would like you to meet my mother.’
‘Hel-lo,’ Tess responded tentatively as the very tall older woman towered over her. She wore a grey knit dress and low, sensible shoes that looked at least a size ten. Tess felt compelled to roll her shoulders back and tighten her core under the woman’s scrutiny. Andras’s mother seemed to lean in a little as if she were inspecting every single visible inch of her. The already humid air thickened at the same moment the bouzouki player took the music into a minor key.
‘Patricia, this is my mother, Isadora,’ Andras stated.
What did she do? Put out her hand? Air kiss? The presence of the woman was making her think she should really feel inclined to bow. Why was she even worrying? She didn’t even know what any of this was about?
‘It’s nice to meet you,’ Tess said quickly, eyes flitting over to Andras. ‘You have a very lovely restaurant.’
The woman’s dark eyes seemed to go from glistening olive to murky oil well. ‘Andras’s restaurant.’
Tess nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘I’m Sonya,’ Sonya chipped in, holding her hand out to Isadora.
‘Sonya is Patricia’s business client,’ Andras jumped in. ‘From England, too.’
‘I am?’ Sonya answered. Tess nudged her with her elbow. ‘Ow, funny bone, not so funny.’ She cleared her throat. ‘I am.’
Isadora swung her attention to her son. ‘I am not stupid! You tell me this already.’ She looked back to Tess. ‘How long have you been in a relationship with my son via the interweb or whatever it is you have been doing in long distances?’
Sonya gasped. ‘Oh my!’
Tess watched Andras. He was the epitome of tense. His shoulders raised, his well-built chest moving in and out like the process of breathing was a skill he was yet to master. This was not the self-assured individual she had encountered at Kalami Cove this afternoon.
She looked back at Isadora, meeting the woman’s hostile glare.
‘It’s been—’ Tess began.
‘A few months,’ Andras interjected. ‘Since we met on the other side of the island, at Paleokastritsa.’
Tess nodded. ‘Mmm, the—’
‘Clear water where we snorkelled,’ Andras continued, his eyes finding hers.
‘The restaurant—’
‘On the beach,’ Andras added. ‘We ate scallops, remember?’
Scallops! Did it have to be scallops? She regrouped, wetting her lips. ‘It was lovely weather.’
Her cheeks were heating up and she could feel Sonya’s eyes boring into the side of her face without having to check and look.
‘It is funny,’ Isadora spoke, clasping one of her giant hands with the other. ‘Andras tells me the restaurant is so busy this season he does not have the time to leave it.’ She sighed. ‘How much time did you spend together in Paleokastritsa?’
‘A week,’ Tess and Andras answered simultaneously.
Isadora eyed them both.
‘We met on my day off,’ Andras elaborated. ‘After that we would meet halfway or Patricia would come here.’
‘That’s right,’ Tess added. Why was she so desperate for this woman to believe this mad story? She knew nothing about this man. He had annoyed her at first meeting. Why would she want to do him a favour? It was then a thought occurred to her: she could definitely play this to her and Sonya’s advantage. Perhaps a few free meals … and access to a computer that worked.
‘Patricia has talked about you all the time,’ Sonya jumped in. ‘It’s been Andras this and Andras that and how much she misses your Greek … your—’
‘You,’ Tess interjected. ‘How much I miss you.’ She moved forward and reached a hand out, bringing it up to Andras’s face and caressing his cheek.
Andras felt the softness of her fingertips as he looked into those ocean-coloured eyes. As every millisecond went by he could feel his shoulders lose a little tension.
‘Dance,’ Isadora stated suddenly.
Andras looked at his mother. ‘What?’
‘You say this woman is your girlfriend, then you will dance for her.’
‘Mama, I have a restaurant to run,’ he protested.
Tess smiled. ‘I would really love to see you dance, Andras.’
He saw the playful look in her eyes now. She was good. She had helped him out but now she wanted a little something in return. And what choice did he have?
‘Do we get to smash plates?’ Sonya asked.
‘Yes, Andras,’ Tess said. ‘We must smash some p
lates.’
He was well and truly caught.
Sixteen
‘Babis!’ Andras called, beckoning the bouzouki player towards him.
Tess felt the heaviness of Isadora’s eyes fall on her. Perhaps this hadn’t been such a good idea. She had no idea what this situation was and this woman looked capable of snapping her in two with just one of those glances.
‘What are you going to do?’ Sonya whispered in her ear.
‘I don’t know,’ Tess answered.
‘Maybe you should come clean.’
‘I can’t,’ she replied.
‘Why not?’
Why couldn’t she? Apart from the fact she would look a complete idiot if she told the truth now. No, it wasn’t that. It was Andras’s whole demeanour when he’d asked for her help. Troubled. Desperate. Something within her had twanged with empathy.
‘Because I’m going to ask him if he knows a guide man for us.’
‘That’s a good idea,’ Sonya answered.
‘Patricia.’
She would just play this out tonight, she would ask him if he knew someone with a boat to take them around the island and they wouldn’t come here again.
Sonya dug an elbow in her side. ‘Patricia, Andras is talking to you.’
She’d momentarily forgotten her name was Patricia. ‘Oh, sorry.’
He held out his hand to her and she looked at it, unmoving.
‘We will dance,’ he stated.
Had he said we? Shit. She was sure the talked-about dancing had been in the singular.
‘Oh, I don’t dance,’ Tess answered with a light laugh she reserved to get herself out of work projects she had no interest in.
‘You do not dance with your boyfriend?’ Isadora snapped straightaway.
Tess looked to Sonya who mouthed the words ‘guide man’ through half hand-covered lips. Her friend was right. She was complicit in this now. And it had the possibility of being a means to a tour guide end.
She smiled at Andras. ‘You’ll have to teach me,’ she said, slipping her hand into his. Her feet were already swollen and hurting like she’d walked on cobbles in stilts. Just how much worse could it be?
Andras drew her away from his mother and Sonya, leading them to the centre of the room where Babis was preparing to play again.