by Mandy Baggot
One of her fellow passengers nudged Freya’s shoulder and she was brought back to the reality of having just landed with Britain’s fraught and impatient holidaymakers, desperate to start queuing for their suitcases. There was nothing like a bit of argy-bargy for your bags to really get you into the holiday spirit.
And thinking of spirit, the brandies in Freya’s stomach were swimming around nicely with the chocolate, but her insides were suggesting from the groans and rumblings that she should think about getting them some company pretty soon.
After a short bus ride, that Freya never thought was really necessary, she arrived at the terminal and was at last stood in Corfu International Airport, waiting to have her passport scrutinised. While she was stood in line she scrutinised the photograph herself. She had been just twenty one when it was taken, nine years ago. Her hair was long and brown and she wore huge spectacles that made her look like a cross between an owl and a headmistress. She was almost unrecognisable now, apart from the weight. The weight hadn’t changed in nine years.
The queue for passport checking was unmoving and Freya decided that now was as good a time as any to call Emma. She just hoped that she answered, as she hadn’t considered what she would do if she didn’t.
Freya turned on her mobile. There were now fifty four missed calls and a low battery. She scanned down the phone to Emma’s mobile number in the phone book and pressed ‘call’. Nothing happened. Freya checked the screen and it revealed she had no network coverage. This could not be happening! She knew she was able to make international calls, she had always been able to make international calls, from anywhere to anywhere, so why wasn’t it working? What was she going to do? She had no money to make a call from the public phone. She was stuck in Corfu Airport with no means to get out.
Just as she was about to go into full blown panic mode the words ‘Vodafone Greece’ appeared on her phone’s display, together with a full signal. Freya took a long slow breath and mentally thanked the Greek Gods - or at least those representing communication.
The phone rang several times in that infuriating continental way until at last:-
‘Freya! Happy Birthday!’
Emma’s voice answered and Freya smiled, feeling comforted by the sound of a familiar voice.
‘Thanks and thanks for the card and the earrings, they’re lovely - very me,’ Freya responded.
The queue in front of her began to move at last.
‘So what are you up to? Russell taken you out somewhere nice?’ Emma enquired.
‘Not exactly,’ Freya answered moving towards the booth ahead of her.
‘What time is it there? I still get confused, what with clocks there going forward and back,’ Emma continued.
‘It’s ten to eleven,’ Freya replied and she braced herself for her friend’s reply.
‘No it can’t be. That’s what time it is here Silly,’ Emma spoke.
It was at that moment the airport announcer decided to tell the terminal, in Greek and English, that the flight going to Stansted was about to leave from gate three.
‘Freya you’re at Corfu Airport aren’t you,’ Emma stated matter of factly.
‘Oh Em, act a little surprised please!’ Freya begged.
‘Nothing surprises me with you. I can’t remember the last time you made a planned visit. I’m getting used to it,’ Emma admitted.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know where else to go. I’m stupid aren’t I? I shouldn’t keep doing this when I hit a low. I should have called,’ Freya began.
The tears were welling up in her eyes already and she was now fourth in the queue. She was feeling weak and that in itself made her angry. How dare Russell make her feel like this.
‘Don’t be silly Freya it’s fine, get a taxi here. In fact don’t get a taxi, go to arrivals and find the Sun ‘n’ Sea rep. She should be the only one dressed entirely in mint green - it’ll be Madeline or Tracey. Tell them you’re my friend and hitch a ride to Kassiopi,’ Emma ordered.
‘Are you sure there’ll be room on their coach? I don’t want to be a pain,’ Freya spoke.
‘Trust me they’ll have room. So, just get off the coach at the C Bar. I’ll meet you there and we’ll have a big drink and a chat OK?’ Emma told her.
Freya felt a surge of relief that Emma had taken control of the situation. She needed someone to lean on right now and she had been right to count on Emma, as always.
‘OK, thanks. Look I’ve got to go, I’m next in the passport queue and I’m running out of battery, I’ll see you…’
At that moment the battery died and Freya was called forward to have her passport checked. She did the best she could to look like a school teacher and an owl and was let through into the arrivals hall.
Once there, it wasn’t difficult to find the Sun ‘n’ Sea representative. Tracey was head to toe in mint green, including her shoes. That, Freya decided, was very scary indeed. She hadn’t remembered Emma ever having to wear green and could only assume it was a recent change made by the company. Whoever sanctioned that needed serious style coaching.
Tracey pointed Freya in the direction of the Sun ‘n’ Sea coach and she was soon sat amongst the holidaymakers waiting for the vehicle to depart.
It was the sixth time she had been to Corfu. She had first visited the island with Emma when they were both twenty. It had been a package trip, the cheapest one they could find. That had been very significant at the time. It had been so much fun and had given Emma the taste for travel. She embarked on a career as a travel representative with Sun ‘n’ Sea and on her third posting was sent to Kassiopi, a pretty village with a beautiful harbour in northern Corfu. Emma had fallen in love with Kassiopi and, having also fallen in love with local boy Yiannis Petroholis, she had never wanted to leave. She now worked for a small travel company in Kassiopi, booking trips for holidaymakers by coach and boat around the island. She also guided some of the trips herself.
Freya could understand her friend’s love for Corfu and for the village of Kassiopi itself, as it was simply beautiful. Although tourism had given the place numerous restaurants, bars and even a nightclub or two, somehow it still managed to retain its traditional charm.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Tracey boarding the coach and picking up the microphone and it let out a loud screech of feedback that had everyone reaching for their ears.
‘Good evening everyone, or should that be kalispera. On behalf of Sun ‘n’ Sea Holidays I would like to welcome you all to Corfu. My name is Tracey and your driver today is Spiros. Now, before we get underway, could I ask you not to eat or drink on the coach and, as the roads around Corfu are very winding in places, please use the seatbelts provided. Now, as we go along I will be telling you a little bit about Corfu and passing out some leaflets, but, before I start - I expect you will have heard by now that we have a famous Hollywood actor staying in Corfu at the moment. Yes, Nicholas Kaden is filming on the island and staying in Kassiopi. So for those of you heading to that resort, you are in for more of a visual treat than you might have expected. I hear from a reliable source that he has been spotted at several of the restaurants and bars, so perhaps you will be lucky enough to get some photos or an autograph.’
Tracey had the most monotone of voices Freya had ever heard and that would have been dreadful had she needed to listen to the information, but as it was, it was pretty much perfect to fall asleep to. Freya rested her head against the window and shut her eyes.
It was Tracey’s monotone voice that woke her up some time later, but on this occasion it was unaided by a microphone and Freya felt her shoulder being gently shaken.
‘Freya, we’re about five minutes away from the harbour. I thought I’d better wake you,’ Tracey spoke.
‘Oh thanks, thank you. God I’ve slept through the whole journey? That’s usually my favourite part. You know, going through Sidari and Roda and entering the municipality of Kassiopi,’ Freya answered, sitting herself up and rubbing her eyes.
‘You looked lik
e you could use the sleep. Is Emma meeting you?’ Tracey queried.
‘Yes at the C Bar,’ Freya responded.
‘Ooo well don’t be surprised if you bump into Nicholas Kaden. I hear that’s one of his favourite haunts for a late night drink,’ Tracey informed her.
‘Oh right, well perhaps he’ll buy us one,’ Freya answered and she picked her bag up from the floor of the coach.
The coach stopped right outside the C Bar, as Sun ‘n’ Sea’s Arcadia Apartments were just a few yards up a steep incline to the left of the building.
Freya followed two couples off the coach and then she saw Emma waiting for her, looking amazing as ever.
‘Freya! Oh my God, your hair!’ Emma exclaimed and she threw her arms around her friend and hugged her tightly.
It felt nice to have a cuddle after a rotten day and there wasn’t a person in this world that Freya felt more for than Emma. She was the only constant in her life.
‘Never mind me! Let me look at you! You look fantastic,’ Freya said, holding her friend’s hands and taking in everything about her appearance.
In complete contrast to Freya, Emma was a tall, super-slim, blonde-haired twenty something. She was the type of woman that turned men’s heads, although the majority of the time she was completely oblivious to it. She was the sweetest, most generous person Freya had ever known and she felt lucky to have her as a friend and unfailing confidante.
‘Yiannis says I’ve lost weight and need feeding up. Although Mr P is doing his best with those meatballs of his,’ Emma replied, talking of Mr Petroholis senior.
‘I don’t expect he’ll say I need feeding up, but the meatballs will go down well nevertheless,’ Freya told her.
‘Right, well, let’s get your bags and we can have a drink,’ Emma spoke and she headed towards the boot of the coach where Spiros was getting cases out.
‘I don’t have any bags,’ Freya called out to her.
Emma stopped in her tracks and turned back to face her friend.
‘No bags this time! Freya, you are getting worse! What did you bring?’ Emma queried.
‘Just myself. To be honest there wasn’t anything else worth bringing,’ she answered.
‘I think we have a lot to talk about, particularly that hair colour. I’ll just thank Tracey for getting you here in one piece,’ Emma said and she went over to the woman in mint green.
Freya took a deep breath and couldn’t quite believe she was back in Kassiopi. She looked around, taking in her surroundings. The harbour, the boats bobbing about, the street lamps giving everything a warm glow, the bars with people sat down outside enjoying the warm night air. A shiver ran up her spine. It felt wonderful to be here standing in a place she adored. She didn’t regret getting on the plane now. This moment now, when she could feel the Corfiot air on her skin, smell that fantastic sweet aroma in the breeze, and see the vast expanse of sea in front of her, were the best minutes of her birthday so far. She only wished she had her cameras to capture it. She did have one small Nikon in her handbag, but it really deserved something better.
‘Come on you! Let’s get some drinks and have a chat. Fancy Sex on the Beach?’ Emma asked as she linked arms with Freya.
‘A cocktail first I think,’ Freya answered with a smile.
Three
Before long, the two women were sat at a table outside the C Bar, under a cream parasol, with two large drinks in front of them. The C Bar was located on one side of the picturesque harbour, and from the seats outside, there was a wonderful view of both the water and the crumbled ruins of the fort which overlooked the bay.
‘I hope I didn’t mess up any plans you had for tonight,’ Freya said, sucking on her straw and enjoying her first taste of Greek alcohol.
‘It’s quarter to one now, the only plan I had was going to sleep. I’ve got a shopping trip to Corfu Town tomorrow which leaves at eight and it’s nearly fully booked,’ Emma informed her.
‘Sorry, I always was good at timing wasn’t I?’ Freya replied.
She called to mind one of her unplanned visits when she had burst into Emma’s apartment yelling ‘surprise!’ only to be confronted with the sight of Yiannis and Emma minus their clothes.
‘Don’t be silly, it’s your birthday for God’s sake and something must have happened for Russell not to be with you,’ Emma said.
‘Mmm, so tell me what you’ve been doing since we last spoke. I want all the details, leave nothing out,’ Freya ordered, trying to avoid Emma’s question.
‘Freya, you can’t travel all this way and not tell me what happened. Come on, tell me. You can tell me anything remember, and you know I won’t stop asking until I know. So much better to get it out of the way now,’ Emma continued.
‘It was stupid, thinking back on it. I probably overreacted,’ Freya began.
‘Go on,’ Emma urged.
Freya recounted the tale of what Russell had said about her at the restaurant. However, she didn’t stop there. The floodgates opened and Freya told Emma all the details of the past six months of their relationship. Details that somehow hadn’t seemed important enough to mention in any of their phone conversations.
‘Well you know, I’ve been put down by everyone for most of my life and in that restaurant, when I heard him describe me like that, I just knew I couldn’t and shouldn’t take any more,’ Freya finished, having regaled her friend with the tales of the nights at the all you can eat Chinese, Russell’s preoccupation with racehorses and their sporadic sex life.
‘Oh Freya,’ Emma spoke, reaching out to pat her friend’s arm consolingly.
‘But before today, I thought things had turned a corner. That’s why I haven’t told you any of this before. Just lately he was back to being the Russell I fell for - all romance and impromptu acts - I thought things were going to work out, I…’ Freya started, her voice tailing off as she felt a surge of upset in her chest.
It was now that the tears really came. Freya could do nothing but let the emotion go and big fat tears came rolling down her cheeks. She sobbed, bent over in her chair, her face on her knees.
Emma hurried to the chair next to Freya and enveloped her friend in a hug, holding her tightly as she cried.
‘It’s OK, you cry and let it all out. You’re here now, in beautiful Kassiopi, with me and a large cocktail. What could be better than that?’ Emma asked her.
‘Two large cocktails?’ Freya replied feeling able to lift her head up from her lap. She took off her glasses and wiped at her eyes with her fingers.
‘I’m pathetic aren’t I? God I’m thirty years old, I ought to be able to cope with a few insults. I should have stayed and faced him and told him what an arse he was. I just didn’t know what to do and I panicked,’ Freya spoke, picking up her handbag and looking inside for a tissue.
‘You shouldn’t have to hear what he said from anyone, let alone your own boyfriend. And that, on top of all the other stuff you’ve just told me about, I think you did exactly the right thing. It sounds like he’s turned into a complete pig and I’m surprised you put up with that for so long,’ Emma responded and she passed Freya a serviette from the holder on the table.
‘I know the answer to that one,’ Freya spoke, blowing her nose.
You didn’t put up with snide remarks and knock backs because it was fun, you put up with them for one reason and one reason only.
‘Because who else is going to look twice at me?’ Freya answered plainly.
‘Freya, now you are being silly,’ Emma exclaimed.
‘I’m not, come on Em, look at me! I’m a size twenty, there I’ve said it. No point denying it to myself any more. A size twenty with double d boobs and thighs any rugby player would kill for. My waist is non-existent, it seems to blend into my bust more every day and I have bingo wings. That might be mildly amusing if I actually played bingo,’ Freya said and she snatched up her drink and sucked furiously on its straw.
‘Freya…’ Emma began, trying to protest against her friend’s words.
‘I’m surprised Russell stayed with me as long as he did. My God, he must have been so ashamed. People probably thought someone like me was all he could get - how embarrassing,’ Freya continued.
‘Freya, please stop this,’ Emma begged her.
‘The reason hearing what he said upset me so much was a) because I could see the venison steak I’d envisaged eating disappearing from the agenda and b) because what he said was true. I am large and I am ordinary. In fact why am I angry with him for telling me how it is? I should have just shrugged it off and ordered a salad,’ Freya carried on as she thought back.
‘Freya! Stop it! If he can’t see you are beautiful, then he isn’t worth a second thought, let alone tears in your cocktail! You have the most amazing eyes; you have a fantastic smile and more importantly a brilliant sense of humour. And if we are being really honest with each other here, I always wished I had half the confidence you have. You always know what to say in every situation, I’m just not like that and I wish I was,’ Emma said to her friend.
‘Now I know why you’re my best friend and that was exactly the right thing to say in this situation. Oh I don’t know, I just never seem to be able to get it right. Or should that be I never seem to be able to get Mr Right. Before today, before finding out how Russell really sees me do you know what I did? I looked at one of those Weight Watchers adverts in the newspaper. I picked up the phone and I almost dialled the number,’ Freya spoke.
‘Freya, you hate diets and not only that, you are the absolute worse dieter I know,’ Emma remarked.
‘And doesn’t it show?’ Freya commented.
‘I didn’t mean that like it sounded,’ Emma added hastily.
‘No, it’s OK, you’re right. I’m a great eater and lousy on nutrition. I still can’t walk past a bakery without sampling a sausage roll just to see if it tastes as good as it should - in fact often they call to me,’ Freya told Emma.
‘So why even think of Weight Watchers?’ Emma queried.
‘Because perhaps trying to find someone who takes me as I am isn’t going to work. Maybe I need to change things. Perhaps I need to face up to who and what I really am and take control of that,’ Freya suggested.