by Mandy Baggot
‘Good. Well, let’s go and have a birthday meal,’ Emma said excitedly, taking Freya’s arm.
‘Have I got a balloon on my chair? Tell me I have a balloon on my chair,’ Freya spoke as they entered the restaurant.
Banas was an extremely popular restaurant in Kassiopi, due to its location on the edge of Kalamionas beach. It served high quality international cuisine and was also famed for being in the perfect position to watch the sunset. It was always a spectacle.
The restaurant was busy and the women had to wait for one of the dozen or so waiters to come and attend to them.
Emma spoke to the waiter in Greek explaining that they had booked Freya’s favourite table. The waiter immediately began to look flustered and started to shuffle from foot to foot looking uncomfortable. Although Freya’s Greek was pretty limited, she could sense that something wasn’t quite right.
‘What’s going on? Why is he looking like that?’ Freya asked Emma.
‘There’s a problem with the table. He’s going to get the manager,’ Emma told Freya.
‘What sort of problem? A wobbly leg? Someone still sat there from the first sitting? We can wait a bit, perhaps have some complimentary drinks for the inconvenience,’ Freya said, looking forward to the evening.
‘It sounded slightly more terminal than that but we’ll see what the manager has to say,’ Emma said with a sigh.
‘Terminal? You mean - hang on, I can just see our table and there is someone on it! There’s a whole party taking up three tables, including ours,’ Freya announced as she looked through into the restaurant.
‘Mmm he mumbled something about that, but don’t worry, the manager will be here in a minute and I’m sure he will sort something out,’ Emma said calmly.
‘Hang on a minute, I don’t believe it! Do you know who’s sat at our table? Bloody Nicholas Kaden and there’s his minion who tried to buy my rolls! That man has completely taken over the village!’ Freya exclaimed in anger.
She stared over at the table and could just see Nicholas Kaden, dressed in a white shirt, open at the neck, looking older than she had remembered him looking in the last DVD she’d rented. He looked slim, yet muscular and there was no denying he was handsome. However, as Freya looked at him, all she felt was irritation. Who did he think he was? She had been in Corfu less than twenty four hours and already he had made a nuisance of himself and inconvenienced her in many ways. Now he and his film buddies had taken her table, the sunset table, the table she loved - the table Emma had booked especially for her birthday. Freya’s temper was rising rapidly. If there was one thing she could not stand it was people with inflated egos thinking they were better than anyone else. She had spent her life running away from people like that! Just because he was an actor who happened to get his face on the front of magazines he did not have the right to stamp all over her and pinch a table they had reserved.
Emma was now talking to the manager of Banas and Freya demanded to know what was being said.
‘Are they going to be finished soon? On their desserts are they?’ Freya questioned the manager.
‘Freya he says he’s sorry. Apparently they booked for six people originally and then turned up with more,’ Emma attempted to explain.
‘Well that isn’t our fault. So what’s he going to do about it?’ Freya asked, becoming more riled by the second.
‘As I have said to your friend, I can only apologise and offer you a table tomorrow night, with some free drinks,’ the manager told her.
‘I know it’s not the same but I could make tomorrow night if Yiannis can manage without me at the restaurant,’ Emma told her, trying to make the best of the situation.
‘No I’m sorry, that won’t do. Excuse me,’ Freya said.
Before anyone could stop her she headed off into the restaurant, walking swiftly past other tables in the direction of Nicholas Kaden.
He was oblivious to Freya’s approach. He was sat next to a super-slim, super-blonde haired woman, who wasn’t wearing very much, and Freya could see they had just started their main course. He was laughing at something that had been said to him by one of the men sat opposite. It was only when he had finished laughing that he noticed his bodyguard was now standing at the table next to a blonde-haired woman in a green top, preparing to escort her away.
‘Get off me!’ Freya shrieked, flapping her arms so as to relieve herself from the bodyguard’s grasp.
‘Roger, it’s OK. If she wants an autograph I’m quite happy to do it,’ Nicholas Kaden spoke hurriedly as he watched Freya attempting to rid herself of the tall, black man.
‘I don’t want a pissing autograph! What I want is my table, the one you’re sat at. My friend booked this table, she reserved it for us, for my birthday and now you and your cronies are squatting on it!’ Freya exploded, loud enough for the entire restaurant to hear.
‘Squatting on it? What does she mean?’ the super-blonde haired bimbo next to Nicholas Kaden asked.
‘It means occupying something that isn’t yours. It’s an English expression,’ the woman who had tried to buy Freya’s rolls commented.
‘Look Lady, we’re trying to have a quiet meal here. How much would it take for you to go away?’ Gene Bates, one of Nicholas Kaden’s co-stars asked, turning around in his chair to face Freya.
‘Oh my God, it’s always about money with you people isn’t it? You must lead sad shallow lives for money to mean so much to you. I don’t want your stinking money; I don’t want an autograph or a snap for the album. I want you to realise that you’ve ruined the night for me and my friend. But I don’t expect that means anything to you,’ Freya carried on, unable to contain her emotions.
She glared at Nicholas Kaden, the bimbo, the Roll Lady and back to Nicholas again. He was just sat still in his chair, looking back at her, offering no comment.
‘Go away you stupid girl. You’re drawing attention to us and that’s the last thing we wanted. Roger, perhaps you could organise someone at the entrance,’ Roll Lady spoke to the bodyguard.
‘Well perhaps you should have thought about unwanted attention before you stole someone else’s table - you invited this situation!’ Freya yelled back.
‘Roger, please escort this woman away,’ Roll Lady ordered.
Freya again avoided being manhandled by the bodyguard. She quickly turned around, grabbed a large basket from the waiter serving a group of four behind her, and slammed it down on the table in front of Nicholas, narrowly missing his plate of food.
‘Bread rolls Mr Kaden. I hear they’re your particular favourites. Well, tomorrow morning, place in a warm oven, wait ten minutes and voila, breakfast. Give her one less thing to fetch for you,’ Freya finished pointing at Roll Lady.
Her point had been made to her satisfaction and not wanting to be forcefully ejected from the restaurant Freya turned and left the way she had come, oblivious to the fact that the whole restaurant was now looking at her.
Once back with Emma she took her arm and pulled her towards the exit.
‘Come on, we’re leaving, we’ll go and eat at Petroholis Restaurant,’ Freya told her, still shaking with anger.
‘What did you say to him? Did he speak? What was he like?’ Emma questioned excitedly as she let herself be dragged along.
‘I hardly noticed,’ Freya replied.
‘Who was sat with him? Was it Bob Crosby and Gene Bates?’ Emma enquired.
‘They were all rude and one of them looked like an anorexic Barbie,’ Freya answered.
‘Hey!’
The loud yell made both women stop and turn around to where the shout had come from. Nicholas Kaden was a few yards away from them, hurrying down the street to catch them up, much to the surprise and delight of the people he passed in the street.
Eight
‘Oh my God! Hollywood’s finest is running down the road chasing us. Freya, what have you done? I think I am going to die,’ Emma muttered, paralysed to the spot.
‘I’m surprised he doesn’t need someon
e to help him walk,’ Freya replied, watching him approach.
‘Hi. Look, I’m sorry about your table,’ Nicholas spoke as he reached them.
‘Save it,’ Freya snapped immediately.
‘It’s OK. Banas is one of the best restaurants in Kassiopi, it’s quite understandable you would want to eat there,’ Emma said diplomatically.
‘Yes, but really not at the expense of your evening,’ Nicholas insisted.
‘So what are you going to do about it? Finish up? Skip dessert and give up the table?’ Freya asked him.
‘No. But I was hoping you would come back and join us - perhaps we could share the table,’ Nicholas suggested.
He seemed taller in the flesh and more athletic in build than Freya had thought him to be. His usual dark hair looked like it had been bleached by the Corfiot sun but his eyes were as large and as blue as they appeared on screen. He was now offering an olive branch and that made him appear less arrogant. Perhaps some of what she had said had hit home.
‘No thanks,’ Freya responded immediately.
‘Freya!’ Emma exclaimed in horror, not believing her friend was about to pass up the opportunity of having a meal with a film star.
‘I wanted to spend the evening with you, not him and his stuck up entourage,’ Freya spoke, not caring who heard.
‘Would you excuse us, just for a second,’ Emma said to Nicholas and she jerked Freya just out of earshot.
‘Freya, that's Nicholas Kaden. NICHOLAS KADEN! He’s won two Oscars, he models for a famous aftershave and he is worth millions. He is one of the most famous men on the planet and he’s asking us to have dinner with him,’ Emma told her.
‘Emma you know none of that impresses me,’ Freya reminded her.
She looked again at Nicholas who was stood still in the same spot, looking away from them and trying to avoid drawing attention to himself.
‘Well you don’t have to be impressed. You can be as unimpressed as you like, but I know people who would kill for this opportunity - me for one,’ Emma told her.
‘You want to have dinner with him,’ Freya stated.
‘I want us to have dinner with him, at the restaurant we planned to eat at, at the table we booked, just with extra dining companions. We can still do everything we wanted to do and still see the sunset if we hurry up,’ Emma spoke.
Freya sighed. It wasn’t the evening she’d been looking forward to, courting rich people and making small talk. She looked at Nicholas again. He looked slightly uncomfortable stood in the road on his own. His hands were still in the pockets of his dark jeans and then he turned and looked at the two women. He caught Freya’s eye and she hurriedly looked back to Emma.
‘But, it’s your birthday, so you should decide,’ Emma told her.
‘OK,’ Freya replied.
‘OK? You mean we can go and have dinner with him?’ Emma asked.
‘Yes, why not? He did run a full fifty yards on his own without a camera rolling,’ Freya said.
‘Great! Great! I can’t wait to tell my mum about this! Ooo it’s so exciting!’ Emma said as she and Freya walked back over to Nicholas.
‘Are we going to eat together?’ Nicholas enquired.
‘Yes we are. We would be delighted to join you for dinner,’ Emma told him.
‘You’re both happy with that decision? Because I have to say that the girl who had red hair this morning looks kinda put out,’ Nicholas remarked.
‘I can tell Roll Lady has been bigging me up,’ Freya replied with a half smile.
She was so doing this for Emma.
They re-entered Banas and Nicholas arranged an additional couple of chairs for the two women to sit on. The waiter took their orders and Nicholas had more champagne brought for the table.
The other people dining with them were hurriedly introduced by Roll Lady, much to her displeasure. The slim blonde seated next to Nicholas was his romantic interest in the film, Hilary Polar. She was not immediately recognisable to Freya or Emma and it transpired that this was her first major movie. Gene Bates and Bob Crosby were well seasoned actors and also at the table were Jack Barnes and Andrew Masters, members of the production team. Roll Lady was in fact Nicholas’ personal assistant and was called Martha Wilson.
Freya was seated with Nicholas on one side of her and Emma on the other. Emma had Bob Crosby squeezed in next to her. It was a bit snug and Freya was not in a good position to see the sunset. She decided this was a situation she must rectify when the time came.
‘So we’ve done all the introductions but we don’t know your names,’ Bob Crosby spoke, getting as close as he could to Emma.
Freya shook her head at his pathetic attempt at flirtation. He and Gene were both in their forties and these days played mostly character roles. This usually involved them being either gangsters in action movies or father figures in romantic comedies.
‘I’m Emma and this is…’ Emma began.
‘This is Freya,’ Nicholas interrupted and announced to the table.
Freya looked surprised that he knew her name.
‘I overheard Emma use your name when she was persuading you to come back and eat. It’s a cool name, unusual,’ Nicholas whispered to her.
‘It suits,’ Freya responded.
‘Well Emma and Freya, it’s nice to meet you, just please, can we call time on any more baskets of rolls? They kind of mess up the table settings,’ Gene Bates retorted and laughed out loud.
Freya bit her tongue. She was going through this charade for Emma, kind sweet Emma who had welcomed her back to Kassiopi with open arms and was now being letched over by an aging Hollywood lothario.
‘So Freya, are you here on holiday?’ Nicholas asked her, taking a sip of his drink.
‘Yes, kind of. I sorted out some business at home and then decided to visit a friend,’ Freya told him.
She picked up a bread roll from the small basket in the middle of the table and bit into it. She was starving and she wished the food would hurry up as smelling Nicholas’ plate of kleftico was accelerating her hunger pangs.
‘Been to Kassiopi before?’ Nicholas continued as he ate.
‘Yes, several times. You?’ Freya asked politely.
‘This is my first time,’ he admitted with a smile.
‘Ooo a Kassiopi virgin,’ Freya replied.
‘Yes that’s right. Well, even you must have been a virgin once,’ Nicholas joked, unable to contain a smirk.
‘So what do you think of the village?’ Freya asked him, not responding to his comment.
‘I think it’s terrific. The scenery’s spectacular, the people are friendly, well the locals at least, and it has a great feel to it,’ Nicholas told her.
‘Yes, it has,’ Freya agreed.
‘Be careful there, you’re agreeing with me on something. In a second you might have to admit I’m not the awful person you think I am,’ Nicholas spoke, looking directly at Freya.
‘Pass the water would you?’ Freya asked quickly, feeling a touch of embarrassment.
Nicholas smiled and handed her the jug.
‘So how’s filming going Nicholas?’ Emma piped up, sipping her drink and beaming from ear to ear.
‘Please, call me Nick. I’ve never been struck on the full name. It’s going well, we had a little trouble today with the heat but we’re getting there,’ he answered.
‘It’s out on the boat tomorrow isn’t it?’ Hilary Polar spoke, putting her arm around Nicholas’ shoulders and nearly hitting Freya as she did so.
‘Yes and some work for the stunt double,’ Nicholas said.
‘Goodness, what have you got to do on the boat that you need a stuntman for?’ Emma asked him, intrigued.
‘Well my character gets knocked overboard and then dragged along by the boat,’ Nicholas explained.
‘He wanted to do the stunt himself but insurance would not allow it,’ Martha informed everyone.
‘Pity,’ Freya remarked, under her breath.
‘Come on, you really don’t m
ean that,’ Nicholas said, turning in his chair to face her.
‘No? Not after you and your entourage have been a thorn in my side since I got here? I would pay good money to see you be dragged along by a boat,’ Freya told him.
‘Look, Freya, I really apologise for any inconvenience I might have caused you, all of it was unintentional I assure you. I really don’t set out to wreak havoc wherever I go and I’m sorry if it’s appeared I have little consideration for anything other than myself. It really couldn’t be further from the truth,’ Nicholas answered sincerely.
Freya found herself incapable of a response. It was extremely unusual for her; however she was saved from any embarrassment by the arrival of her and Emma’s food.
She ate hungrily and devoured the moussaka. She was halfway through the chocolate ice cream when it started to happen. She dropped the spoon in her bowl and leapt up from her seat.
‘Excuse me,’ she said hurriedly and, picking up her handbag, she rushed towards the patio doors of the restaurant. She tugged them open and stepped out onto the paved area that separated the restaurant from the pebbled beach.
‘What is she doing now?’ Martha questioned as all the people seated at the table watched Freya.
‘Oh it’s the sunset. She’ll be out there until it goes down now, twenty minutes or so, taking photos. That’s what she does, she’s a photographer,’ Emma informed the group.
‘And here was me thinking she just had to be a professional food taster or something,’ Gene remarked with a laugh.
Hilary giggled at the comment, Martha covered a smirk with her serviette and Emma hid her face in her glass not knowing what to say.
‘Well you’ve left no one in any doubt that your profession isn’t comedy Gene. I would suggest you inform your agent, avoid any inappropriate castings,’ Nicholas retorted and he turned his attention away from the table.
He looked outside to where Freya was crouched down on the floor, pointing her camera at the horizon.
By the time she’d returned to the table her ice cream had melted. She felt little disappointment though as she’d eaten most of it anyway and the sunset had been fantastic. There had been few clouds in the sky and she’d had a prime position.