‘We used to.’
‘Gah, Pippa! I’ve seen the way you’ve loved chatting with old colleagues tonight. And you blend into these luxurious surroundings as if you are one of the fittings.’
‘Oh, thanks – I think.’
‘ThinkBig are diversifying – we’re moving on from developing land in impoverished countries.’ He beamed. ‘We’re opening offices in Dubai and I’m to head up the team.’
‘Dubai?’ I said. ‘Gosh… I mean, congratulations.’
‘With their fluid economy the possibilities are endless,’ he went on excitedly. ‘Billionaires who’ll pay any amount of money to live in the most unique condo or to own the most exclusively located hotel.’
‘Ah, well that is important news – I’m really pleased for you. Thanks for telling me before you depart.’ Lesson learnt for thinking his announcement would be all about me!
‘You’d love Dubai,’ he continued. ‘The weather, the cosmopolitan feel of ex-pats, the visionary feel of businesses and architecture… I envisage it as an ultra-modern Greek coast.’
‘What does Olivia think?’ I said. ‘Has she started looking for a job? Will you get married out there or—’
A quizzical expression crossed his face.
‘Pips – have I not made myself plain? I want you to come with me; you sitting opposite me in the boardroom.’ Henrik’s cheeks flushed. ‘And each night I want you lying next to me with…’ His voice wavered. ‘…my arms holding you tight.’
Chapter Nine
Henrik shuffled slightly on the sofa and stared at me intently. ‘Oh come on, Pips – you feel it too. Breaking up was a mistake.’
‘No…it wasn’t.’
Henrik raised one eyebrow.
‘And what about Olivia?’ I continued, heart pumping hard as if it feared I was about to flatline. I reached for my champagne and drained the glass. How the light would have drained from Niko’s flirty eyes if he heard this conversation. And as for Olivia – how could Henrik be so callous? Here he was at his engagement party, asking another woman to disappear to the other side of the world with him. The executive crowd I’d hung around with in London were ruthless at making business decisions, yes – but surely they weren’t – I hadn’t been – so clinical when it came to personal lives?
I stared at Henrik – remembered the time we’d gone on a skiing weekend to France, instead of attending my great aunt’s eightieth birthday bash. I bit my lip. Mum and Dad were no homebodies themselves, but I could tell they’d been a little disappointed. And much as I disliked her, I recalled the time I felt sorry for Greta when she’d twisted her ankle but Henrik and I couldn’t visit to help because we’d both had to work late to meet deadlines.
An uncomfortable, heavy sensation spread through my limbs. Henrik glanced into his lap for a moment and then gazed up, fiddling with his watch. ‘I’ve come to realise, all a bit too late that… Olivia is what popular culture would call my Rebound Girl.’
‘But you seem so well-matched,’ I spluttered.
‘You’re the one for me, Pippa – always have been; always will. Olivia’s great, but…’ He let go of his watch. ‘Since our split I think I finally understand about the romance stuff you read in those novels. With Olivia, the world seems a less…fascinating place. When I wake up in the morning the first thing I think of is work, not her laugh, nor her face.’ He shrugged. ‘I like to please her with gifts, trips out and…I don’t know…be a listening ear when she’s down.’ Henrik took my hand. ‘But it’s not my mission in life, Pippa. Whereas with you…I don’t think I understood just how much my happiness depended on yours.’
Wow. A lyrical Henrik. ‘You shouldn’t be telling me this first – go and find her; come clean.’ I stared at him. ‘But only if you’re sure, I mean – since being with Olivia, you’ve become more charitable, you like animals and are more demonstrative…that’s all good, no?’
‘Olivia may be good for me, but so are wholemeal bread and vitamin tablets. Whereas what makes life worth living is the chocolate and cocktails. That’s you. I realise that now.’
‘Wholemeal bread?’ I muttered and took away my hand. Poor, poor Olivia. How could he speak of her in those terms? This explained why he gave her my engagement ring. His heart wasn’t in the union to start with. I recalled her comments about Henrik giving her gifts – as if he was testing her out. My stomach pinched. Had Henrik been practising his romantic skills on her to win me back? So calculating. So clinical. Lovely Olivia deserved better than that. He should never have started seeing her, let alone got engaged, if he still had strong feelings for me.
I swallowed. Niko didn’t spoil me with expensive items, but with little things that meant so much, like slipping a beautiful flower into my hair or preparing a sumptuous picnic. Even after a hard day’s fishing he’d often bake spicy meatballs, because he knew they were my favourite. Then for our one month anniversary (that he insisted we celebrate) he asked Demetrios to craft a special present – an orange jellyfish. He declared it was to remind me of the time he saved me from a shoal of them when we were kids. Niko still bore the scars.
‘This ceramic jellyfish, Pippa, is a symbol that I will always look out for you, no matter what.’
My eyes tingled. And I could see now, that’s all he’d been doing in recent weeks – looking out for my – our – future, by saving hard.
‘And indeed I have changed, Pips,’ Henrik said earnestly. ‘That makes us better suited than ever. I hate the expression, but I’m more in touch with my feelings.’ His eyes gleamed. ‘Come with me to Dubai. I’m thinking palm trees, luxury cars, the biggest shopping mall in the world, private yacht clubs and oh the career opportunities for people like us. You and me, Pips, climbing the corporate ladder together, away from your Greek island with its ever-changing tax laws and unstable business prospects.’ He brushed a hand against my cheek. ‘You’ve had your holiday romance. It’s time to come back to the grown-up world.’
I shook my head. ‘Henrik. Believe me. My place is in Taxos.’
He laughed. ‘Please. Haven’t you satisfied this childhood dream yet? Baking scones for a living in an unstylish village – that’ll never satisfy the real you. You’ve played at being a shopkeeper for a few months. Now it’s time to get back with the programme.’ He leant forward. ‘In Dubai you’d never have to cook again. We’ll eat out. Enjoy business breakfasts. Employ a housekeeper.’
The Pippa’s Pantry sign popped into my head. ‘But I like baking,’ I said, feeling all fuzzy inside.
I recalled Cosmo wolfing down one of my yogurt and honey scones and little Theo’s mouth covered in chocolate crumbs. I pictured Grandma, sitting in the corner, reading coffee sediment and a twinkly-eyed Niko playfully ruffling my hair, saying it didn’t matter that my latest attempt at baking a Greek pastry had turned out drier than a sailor’s chapped lips.
‘Yes, Pips, and I enjoy gym workouts, but it doesn’t mean I want to become a sweaty, piss-paid personal trainer. Big bucks aren’t in scones – they are in sheiks with more dirhams than they know how to spend. Tell me, when was the last time you visited a spa or bought something frivolous?’
‘Life’s not just about money, though, is it?’ That sentence echoed in my head and my throat constricted. I had many precious things in Taxos that didn’t cost a penny. A sharp sheet of pain pressed on my chest, as Henrik’s offer of a luxury life condensed everything that did and didn’t matter. I could live without the latest beauty treatment or designer handbag, but not without true love, family and community spirit.
He snorted. ‘No, but as I’m sure you’ve found out recently, it sure as hell makes life a lot easier. Is it really such a difficult choice – the oasis that is Dubai or a practically bankrupt country in the refugee-swamped Aegean?’
‘I once read an article, about living in Dubai. There’s no heritage. Everything has been built to order, for the rich and playboys. It’s like living in Disneyland – fabulous for a few years but poison for the soul thereafter.�
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‘Then we’d only be there for the set-up. In a year or two we could transfer back, with more money in our pockets than we’ve ever dreamed of. Our kids could go to the best boarding schools in London.’
Boarding? So he still wasn’t up for the full family life? I smiled at images in my head of Taxos parents bringing their children into the teashop on the way home from school.
‘So? Pippa? What do you think?’
A loud creak made him jump and we turned towards the door. Olivia crossed the mink carpet. ‘Henrik? At last I’ve found you. Greta isn’t feeling well.’ She looked from him to me and then at the empty dishes. ‘I wasn’t sure where you were. Lisette told me – about her and Niko. Are you okay, Pippa?’
Perspiration beading on his forehead, Henrik stood up and cleared his throat. ‘Sorry for the disappearing act, Olivia – I reckoned Pippa could do with someone to talk to. What’s wrong with Mum?’
‘One of her blinding headaches. The manager has gone to get painkillers but I wondered if she should go home.’
Henrik and I exchanged glances and then he nodded. ‘Of course. Thanks for tracking me down. I’ll see to her immediately.’ He strode to the door, glancing back at me before he disappeared. Olivia approached the sofa and sat down. Oh my word. Talk about awkward.
‘Sorry for becoming a nuisance,’ I muttered. ‘It’s just…’
Olivia shook her head. ‘Please don’t apologise. My sister is a disgrace. By the sounds of it, though, Niko knew just how to handle her, by remaining polite and distant.’
I nodded. Niko. The perfect gentleman. ‘Do you mind if I just text him a minute?’
Olivia smiled. ‘Of course not. I’ll just steal one of those delicious turkey bites.’
Let’s talk. Wait up for me, I punched into my phone.
‘I hope Listette hasn’t caused a big fall-out between you.’
‘Not really. To be honest, things were already tense between us.’ I sighed. ‘Adapting to village life hasn’t been as easy as I thought.’
Those appealing seaweed-green eyes stared at me intently, like two untainted, freshwater ponds. Blood rushed to her cheeks. ‘It’s okay, Pippa. I know you still have feelings for Henrik. And I’ve increasingly sensed that he’s—’
‘No! Honestly, you’ve got it wrong.’
Her expression didn’t change. ‘Pippa…we haven’t known each other long, but I’ve always been one to speak my mind. There’s something I have to say. I know – perhaps you don’t – that Henrik is still in love with you.’
I shifted in my seat. What could I say? I never had been a good liar.
‘There. I’ve said it,’ she continued. ‘To myself. To the room. To the world.’ Her shoulders sagged. ‘He was so animated after his last trip to Taxos when he saw you, and tonight he was like an excited boy getting ready for cub camp.’
‘Because it’s your engagement party,’ I said.
Olivia shook her head. ‘He hardly talked about it until he knew you were coming.’ She exhaled. ‘I’m not stupid. It’s just taken a while to sink in. And that’s why I’m calling the engagement off.’
‘When did you decide that?’ I stuttered.
‘Just this second, for certain.’ She sniffed. ‘Walking into this room and seeing you two together was like stumbling across the final piece of evidence. Henrik will never love me how I want. This party was to celebrate our future together and he’s preferred to spend it away from the crowds, eating off his lap with an ex.’
I shifted again. Poor Olivia.
‘He’s already asked you, hasn’t he?’ she said.
My eyes widened.
‘Dubai. I heard him, on the phone to his boss last week. He asked if the team was expanding as he knew of someone with a great business head, who’d be a huge asset. He knows I’d never give up my charity work, so he wasn’t talking about me.’
‘Did you want to go?’ I mumbled, hardly knowing where to look.
‘No. Henrik guessed as much.’ I met Olivia’s gaze as she ran a finger along the coffee table. A wry smile crossed her lips. ‘I thought that after you married Niko, Henrik would see me in a different light. I really love him, you know.’ Her voice broke. ‘The way he puts my hand in his coat pocket if we’re out walking and it turns cold…how he always leaves me the last bite if we share a pudding. And he’s made such an effort the last couple of months – he even wrote me a poem. But…’ Her chin wobbled. ‘I’ve been a fool. All that effort, that self-improvement of his – the aim was to win you back. I’ve been kidding myself that Henrik and me would ever work out.’
So that’s why she’d sounded so uncertain earlier, when she talked of their future.
‘I’m so sorry, Olivia. But don’t be hard on yourself. We all fool ourselves sometimes.’ My stomach tightened at her crumpled face.
‘Niko loves you to bits, you know,’ she said, eyes glistening. ‘And I’m not just saying that to make you go back. Henrik and me – it’s definitely over.’ She sat up and wiped her face. ‘Niko sounded like a proud dad at parents’ evening, talking of Pippa’s Pantry and your idea for the Christmas fair.’
‘So…what will you do?’ I said. ‘I mean…’
Olivia sniffed. ‘After telling him tonight? Tomorrow I’ll have to start informing family and friends. Then, well… I’m lucky having a job I love to throw myself into.’ She closed her eyes for a moment.
I squeezed her arm. ‘People will understand – and probably, like me, think you are brave for taking this decision. Fighting your romantic feelings like that, to do the right thing – it takes guts.’
Olivia gave a small smile. ‘Poor Greta is going to be so disappointed. I do hope she and I can stay friends.’
We talked for a while about the resolutions each of us would make for the imminent New Year – and it kind of boiled down to Olivia being more single-minded and me being slightly less so. She should have confronted Henrik about his feelings for me weeks ago, whereas I should have stopped being so confrontational with Niko about money and tried harder to understand his point of view.
My phone vibrated. A text? Please let it be from the sexiest fisherman in the world.
‘Right.’ Olivia smoothed down her hair. ‘Guests to attend to. I’d better get back to the buffet.’ She stood up. ‘Despite everything, Pippa…it’s a shame you don’t live nearer. I think you and I…we could be good friends.’
‘But we’ll stay in touch.’
‘For sure.’ She squeezed my shoulder and we exchanged smiles before she left.
As soon as she’d gone, I grabbed my mobile. Oh. A message from Henrik: Taking Mum home. Back in half an hour – for your answer.
I tried to phone Niko. No answer. So I texted again.
I’m coming to the hotel right this minute. Let’s talk. Sorry about everything. I love you to bits.
Chapter Ten
Three o’clock in the morning – the witching hour. I gazed out of our hotel window, down onto the street. No ghosts or wizards floated through the air, only flurries of snow. I looked down at a car carefully stopping at the traffic lights. With no view of the city skyline, suddenly London didn’t seem so impressive. I shivered and moved my fingers over a scrunched-up piece of paper in my hand, its scribbled words stuck in my mind:
Got a cancellation back to Kos.
Flight leaves in two hours.
Niko.
No explanation. No kisses.
Sleep had evaded me as I tossed and turned, my thoughts tripping back over recent months. If only Grandma were here with her comforting hugs and sensible words. I tossed the note onto a nearby desk and slid back between the sheets. Eyes wide open, I tried to determine exactly what had gone wrong over recent weeks. That was one of the few good things that came out of my years at boarding school – the “self-discovery” modules we studied once a week. The headmistress had studied psychology and swore by self-analysis.
So. I cleared my throat and pictured myself back at school, sitting in front of
the teacher who’d take us through the process for getting to the root of problems. Her mantra was, if you asked someone what is wrong, there is no such answer as “I don’t know”. Dig deep enough and the truth will show itself.
I gazed into the darkness. What did I dislike most about Taxos at the moment? I bit my thumbnail. Had the chemistry between me and Niko fizzled out? My pulse thumped louder as I imagined him stretched out next to me, my mouth just inches away from the most tender, yet urgent kisses in the world. Okay. Clearly the attraction was still there. So, what about the issue of money between us? Was that really causing all the trouble? Did I really question my future in Taxos because it would mean fewer trips to the hair and nail salons?
I shuffled uncomfortably. Time to look deeper within myself. I stared harder into the blackness and ran through our daily routine. Breakfast. Niko making me coffee. Grandma reading the sediment. A smile crossed my face. How twitchy he’d get if time was ticking but she insisted on predicting his day ahead. Then me baking scones and making lunch for his return. Us talking about our morning. The fish he’d caught. The scones I’d sold. Which flavours I’d sent in the latest batch to the Creami-Kos chain. In the afternoon, weather permitting, Niko would sponge-dive. Since the weather had got colder, the influx of tourists wanting fishing trips had reduced to nil. So Niko would help out in the taverna if required or, just to keep busy, volunteer his services at the Dellis’ farm.
I sighed. So far this analysis wasn’t working. Apologies if you are bored, but…hmm. I sat up in bed. Our evenings in Taxos – me reading, Niko and his dad playing cards…how different to in England, where I’d have animatedly told Henrik about work and the next day’s projects. We’d have sparked off each other and the conversation would have lurched from the day-to-day challenges of an ever-changing job.
Deep breaths. Okay. Finally I’ve reached the pertinent question: Henrik, Niko and Taxos aside, had I fallen out of love with myself? Had I lost my spark? Why was I spending many evenings simply reading? I never did that back in London.
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