Questions and possible answers swirled around my mind as I reached for my phone on the bedside table. It was almost four now. Once more I texted Niko.
Let me know you got home safely. See you tomorrow.
I still hadn’t received a text from him when I woke up at eight. What if he’d cancelled the wedding; told the family – the whole village – that in his opinion, I much preferred London over Taxos?
A glutinous blob of anxiety wobbled around the inside of my chest, refusing to leave. Because Niko was often out sailing in bad weather, it had become one of our “things” to always check in with each other regularly. He’d text as soon as his boats got back on shore and if I went into Kos Town to make a delivery to Creami-Kos, I’d ring to say I was on my way home. Even if we argued and one of us went out to get some fresh air, sulkiness would never stop us texting to say where we’d gone.
Finally a call came, after my shower, but it was from Henrik, sorry that I hadn’t waited for him to return to the hotel last night. I explained that I’d wanted to see Niko but that he’d just left me a note and gone back to Kos. Henrik insisted on coming over to pick me up, saying that I may as well spend the day shopping with him. He didn’t mention Olivia, nor did I ask. I checked my phone umpteen more times, over my very English hotel bacon and eggs, but to no avail.
Will you pick me up from Kos airport tonight, or shall I get a taxi? I texted at ten, hoping to, at least, appeal to Niko’s practical nature. By five to eleven, a few minutes before Henrik was due to pick me up, I’d still heard nothing. The blob of unease in my chest clung on tighter. I decided to text Sophia.
Did Niko get back okay? See you tonight.
I wasn’t quite sure what else to say but surely she would reply?
A knock at the door made me jump and I slipped my phone into my small rucksack. I pulled my suitcase on wheels over to the door and opened it.
‘You okay?’ said Henrik.
I gazed up and nodded. ‘You?’
He leant forward and I breathed in his citrus aftershave. Easily, those strong arms lifted me up, onto the nearby desk, and before I knew it, he had run a hand through my hair. Gently his legs pushed mine apart and he moved forwards, those slate eyes crinkling in what I used to think was the sexiest of ways.
Cheeks hot, I firmly pressed my palm on his chest and pushed him away.
‘No, Henrik. You and me – it’s not going to happen,’ I said softly.
For a moment he stared. ‘Come on,’ he said eventually and backed off. ‘You can leave your case in my parked car. We aren’t going anywhere on the roads. Have you seen the weather?’
I understood what he meant, after I’d handed my keys in to reception and joined him outside, nose pinching in the arctic air. Clearly he was hoping to change my mind about getting back together with him. How awkward. Too awkward. I couldn’t spend the day with him.
‘Let’s head to Covent Garden for a coffee to start off. It’s only a few tube stops away. And I’d suggest ringing the airport, to see if your flight has been cancelled.’
‘You really think it might be?’
He slipped an arm around my shoulder. ‘Best to check.’
I shook off his arm and we stood on the chilly pavement, by his car. ‘Look…sorry, Henrik, but I think it’s best if I go shopping alone.’
He gazed at me. ‘Last night, Olivia and I split up.’ He held up a hand. ‘And before you act surprised, I know she told you. That’s one of the really likeable things about Olivia. She’s one of the most open people I’ve met.’ He took out his car keys. ‘I just wish I could have felt the same for her as I still do for you.’
‘Henrik. Stop. What you said about Dubai…me and Niko—’
‘You and Niko are the most ill-matched couple I’ve ever met. He and Olivia have done us a favour by leaving.’
I tutted and shook my head. ‘Don’t you feel anything for her?’
‘Of course I do,’ he said, his voice taking on a strangulated tone. ‘Olivia’s a wonderful woman. I never deserved her love. But she’s so giving – so patient…there was never the right moment to do the decent thing and break our relationship off.’
Honest Henrik. That’s what I’d always admired about him. His Dutch half meant he could be plain-speaking to the point of rudeness – yet he’d led poor Olivia on for weeks.
‘It’s not like you,’ I said. ‘One thing I could always depend upon, during our relationship, was that you’d never deceive me.’
His face flushed. ‘I know. But as your wedding neared I felt kind of desperate and before I knew it, had proposed.’ Henrik rubbed his forehead. ‘If it’s any consolation, I’m not used to being the bastard. It feels like shit.’
Goodness. Henrik never swore, unless in anger. He didn’t like failure, either, and would see this as a huge blip in the five-year personal plan he no doubt currently had. A woman of my age, in high leather boots, walked past. Oblivious to his magnetic appeal, he automatically returned her smile.
‘Look, let’s sit in the car for one minute.’ Henrik jerked his head upwards as people hurried past with brollies, as the snow turned to sleet. He put my case on the back seat, and we sat in the front.
‘We haven’t discussed last night properly yet. You and me.’ He squeezed my fingers. Gently I pulled them away. ‘I’ve made my position very clear. You’re the one for me, Pips. Whatever wasn’t working between us before, tell me. I’ve proved I can change. What sort of man must I become?’
I bit my lip, whilst the answer computed in my head. Caring. Sense of humour. Hardworking. Yes, so far he ticked all the boxes. As I watched sleet drip down the windscreen, other qualities popped into my head. Loyal. A family man. Compassionate. Truly charitable. Romantic. Emotionally intense. A man with the most persistent, kissable lips. With a sigh, I watched a single lump of sleet melt on the glass, wishing I could read the icy flakes like Grandma read coffee sediment. As I ran through the list of qualities again, my eyes tingled. I’d just described the very man I was living with in Taxos.
‘Don’t tell me…’ said Henrik and gave a wry smile. ‘I’m perfect as I am.’
No, but Niko is, said a voice in my head. And bravo for self-analysis, because finally it all made sense. My recent dissatisfaction wasn’t to do with my gorgeous fiancé; it wasn’t about money or feelings I still harboured for my old life in London. It was about me, lacking a challenge, feeling unused and unuseful. Those first weeks in Taxos, helping locals set up their businesses for the last of the season’s tourists, had been brilliant. I hadn’t even thought about trips away, shopping excursions or manicures. Instead I’d simply revelled in the simple life that let me concentrate on the tasks ahead, like setting up the teashop and supplying the Creami-Kos chain. The sense of achievement had been enormous. But then it all became easier and my working life settled into a routine. My tutor at boarding school always used to tell my parents I became restless – even morose – without academic goals.
I could have wept. Now I knew for certain. I should have trusted my heart that in the summer took me away from London to spend the rest of my life with Niko. He was perfect. So was Taxos. I just needed to rekindle the fire of my ambition and keep it on a steady burn.
‘I should ring the airport,’ I said, without meeting his eye.
Henrik’s eyes drooped at the corners. ‘Sure. I ought to ring Mum as well. Check that her migraine has gone.’
‘I’m getting worried. Something must have happened. Perhaps Grandma has fallen ill again.’
Henrik took out his phone from his back trouser pocket. ‘I’m sure everything will be all right.’
But what if it wasn’t? Paranoid, I know, but what if some terrible event had taken place in Kos? Forest fires weren’t unheard of in the winter. And there were minor earth tremors all the time – perhaps there had been a full-blown earthquake. Or what if they’d had sudden torrential rain since we left, resulting in floods?
Deep breaths. No. I was being silly. The weather had been
particularly mild in Kos this last fortnight, apart from the wind picking up yesterday morning, just before we left. I put my mobile away. I’d go shopping on my own, buy presents and then head for the airport and home. Home. My chest glowed. That’s what Taxos meant to me. I knew that now.
‘I’ve lost you again, haven’t I?’ said Henrik in a flat voice, as he pulled my case off the back seat and stood on the road.
I glanced sideways at him…the immaculate grooming…that determined jawline.
‘You and me – it would have never have worked,’ I said quietly. ‘Even the Dubai glitz wouldn’t have glued us together.’
We hugged briefly. Henrik opened his mouth as if to talk but then shut it, his lips in a firm line. He nodded. I gave a small smile, then headed off to catch the train to Covent Garden.
Once there, grateful my case was only small, I squeezed amongst shoppers wearing thick scarves and damp woolly hats. I checked my mobile again. Nothing from Sophia. They were three hours ahead. It was late lunchtime in Taxos. Sophia always took a break and checked her phone then, for messages from suppliers. My heart sank. If only Niko was here. I’d so been looking forward to showing him the London sights.
Forty minutes later, I sat in front of a hot chocolate with marshmallows on the top. It was a warm, cosy teashop, with pine furnishings and black and white photos from the fifties. Clinking crockery and chat filled the room and reminded me of Pippa’s Pantry. Except that the clientele were a tad more fashionable here, like in Kos Town cafés. Even though breakfast hadn’t been that long ago, I felt kind of empty inside and ordered a traditional afternoon tea to fill the hole.
People often asked me, “Don’t you ever get bored of scones?” That was like asking if my lungs every got bored of oxygen. After savouring the thick clotted cream and sharp raspberry jam, I rang the airport again. Still no flights had been cancelled, but they couldn’t guarantee any schedule. The next couple of hours would be crucial as to whether they kept the runways clear.
Therefore I headed off for more shopping and visited a vintage men’s accessory shop where I found Georgios the perfect tweed cap. The indoor market building offered an inordinate amount of Christmas fare. I’d forgotten just how pretty Covent Garden was at this time of year, with huge hanging baubles and thousands of fairy lights. Despite the cold, I stopped to watch red-nosed street performers, in the piazza, and gazed at several human statues. Real reindeer were brought into the square for children to feed and pet. I couldn’t help thinking they wouldn’t impress Taxos youngsters as much. They could observe wildlife up close almost anywhere in Kos.
A school choir’s carols provided the perfect soundtrack to this festive afternoon out. However, all this jolly Christmas spirit only dampened my mood as I’d still received no texts from Greece. In a last attempt at communication I texted Pandora, a big Candy Crush fan, who was on her phone more than most. She still hadn’t replied by the time I sat in another café, enjoying a mozzarella, tomato and pesto toastie. Therefore, in desperation, I tried Niko’s Cousin Stefan too. And Uncle Christos. Then Cosmo. Talk about behaving like some lovesick teenager. Goodness knows what everyone would think when they eventually saw my pleas to tell me if they’d seen my fiancé. Although my throat constricted. Why hadn’t at least one of them replied by now? My paranoid imaginings of earthquakes and fires tortured my mind again. So I did what I should have done hours earlier, and rang the taverna direct. Someone would pick up. I glanced at my watch. It was seven o’clock over there now. A party of twelve were arriving at half past, to celebrate a fiftieth birthday. Niko would probably be there helping out.
I looked out of the café window and longed to see the sandy shores of Kos – to be with the man who provided most of the glitz I needed. Especially when we kissed and my whole body, each and every limb, pulsated. I almost smiled, but couldn’t ignore the suspicious voice in my head. Were my friends in Taxos really just super-busy? Or was there a more sinister reason to explain why every single one of my texts had been ignored?
Chapter Eleven
‘Please! Parakalo! Someone take me to Taxos!’ I pulled down my woollen hat, but a gust of wind nearly yanked it back. The third taxi driver I asked shook his head at me from his car. A cigarette hung from the corner of his mouth. Aarghh! Why not? After a four-hour flight and three-hour time difference, it was six o’clock in the morning, and I wanted my bed, preferably with Niko in it.
Suddenly, I felt re-energised at the thought of proving to him that my love had never waned. And I had lots to tell him – on the flight over a plan had popped into my head; the perfect challenge for me that would satisfy my inquisitive mind and benefit Taxos.
‘But why? Problem?’ I said and shrugged. Perhaps the taxi drivers were waiting for better fares.
‘No good. Taxos…boats…busy, busy.’ He made a funny sign with his hands, flipping them over. Was that supposed to be a giant fish? Had a whale beached on the shore? What on earth was he talking about? Busy? It was Sunday. Soon everyone would be in church. I thought for a moment. Was there some event on today in Taxos, for Christmas Eve? No. I would have known about it.
Head in hands, I sat on my luggage. Don’t tell me about busy – I had scones to bake for Christmas Day tomorrow and the fair next week. Fortunately I’d paid extra for shops to wrap all the gifts I’d bought back in England, but that would only make a small dent in the list of things I had to do today.
Someone whistled. I looked up and the taxi driver got out of his car. He tossed his cigarette butt on the street.
‘Okay. Okay. See how we go.’
‘Efharisto.’ I beamed. That was a start. I could drop my luggage at Mum and Dad’s villa on the outskirts and walk in, to see what all the fuss was about. The fresh air would do me good. Despite this unyielding gale, the temperature seemed positively tropical compared to London. As the car drove through the darkness, I texted Niko again. A call to the taverna followed. Then I messaged Pandora. Nothing.
Oh no…the hairs on the back of my neck jumped to attention as an ambulance zoomed past. I’d never been more frustrated that my spoken Greek was so bad. I swallowed and turned around to watch the vehicle speed into the distance. I bit my thumbnail, the breaths escaping my chest now all jerky. What if something dreadful really had happened? At least that might mean Niko hadn’t just been ignoring me. Why oh why hadn’t I listened to my instincts earlier and searched online for news about Kos? I turned back and took out my phone again. I touched the internet icon. Urgh. It couldn’t connect out here in the open.
‘Taxos…accident?’ I said to the driver and struggled to keep my voice from shaking.
He nodded; said something about escaping. Perhaps, for some reason, the villagers had to evacuate their homes at a moment’s notice. That would explain their silence, if they’d left their phones behind in the panic. I perched on the edge of my seat, as if willing the taxi to accelerate. What if something had happened to Niko? I blinked rapidly but there was little point in crying, I’d be no good to anyone and right now they might need a good dose of optimism.
I inhaled and exhaled several times, still gazing out of the window. Palm trees ducked and swayed. Finally the taxi came to my parents’ villa. I practically threw my case into the hallway, locked up and started to run through the pine forest. Dawn teased the skyline. Lights illuminated the village, coming from ambulances, fire engines and houses.
Houses? So that meant not everyone had been forced to leave their homes. Sprinting now, I reached where the road forked into three. I slipped past a group of firemen who were attending to a group of people wrapped up in silver foil blankets, wet rucksacks at their feet. Paramedics milled around their neon vehicles. I ran down the centre street, first of all stopping to go into Pandora’s bakery.
‘Anyone here?’ I shouted.
No one replied. How odd that she’d left the door unlocked. The Fish Taverna was empty as well. A group of foreigners sat in the Olive Tree restaurant with blankets around their shoulders, some of them
on their phones. As the sun continued to rise, rays shot horizontally across the town. Now out of breath, I neared Taxos Taverna. My eyes narrowed. Strewn across the distant shoreline bobbed huge planks of wood, floating orange life-jackets and tens of policemen. Villagers milled around, people hollered and …my palms felt sweaty. Of course. New refugees.
New refugees, dripping wet, with wide-eyed expressions. I recalled the taxi driver trying to explain, tipping his hands sideways. A boatload of Syrians must have overturned. For a few moments I stood fixed to the spot, as if my legs were lamp posts. Refugees travelling here from Turkey in December? Were they mad? Not mad, just scared and desperate, replied a voice in my head. My chest relaxed a little as it sank in that the village hadn’t been on fire or flooded. I tore my gaze away from the shore and hurried into Taxos Taverna.
‘Niko? Sophia? Anyone?’
Shuffling footsteps came down, from upstairs. A tear-stained, wrinkled face with wispy hair tied back appeared. Grandma held out her arms.
‘Pippa? You came back. Come here, my little peach.’
I ran over and bent down to give her a tight hug. ‘Of course. Why wouldn’t I? Now tell me, what’s wrong? What’s happened? I got here as quickly as I could. My flight was delayed. How’s Niko? I can’t wait to see him – explain that—’
‘Slow down,’ she said as we parted. I pulled a chair from the nearby table, took off my hat and loosened my scarf.
‘Have you had anything to eat or drink?’
‘Yes. On the plane. I’m fine. Please, just tell me, what’s going on? Please just tell me – is Niko all right?’
Grandma sat down opposite and put a hand on my arm. ‘Yesterday morning. Very early. Some refugees got into trouble, trying to land on our island. They came in big dinghies…’ Grandma rolled her eyes and muttered something in Greek. ‘Niko had just got back from the airport. We hadn’t even had time to ask where you were. Screams came from the sea. Slowly villagers surfaced with torches. The wind really picked up after you left. They should never have ventured onto the ocean at this time of year.’
My Big Fat Christmas Wedding Page 11