My Big Fat Christmas Wedding

by Samantha Tonge

  ‘A man with good taste,’ I said and bowed my head. ‘Although Cleo is horrified by my freckles.’

  ‘Jealous, I’d say. Who wants to be like the rest of the crowd? You’re a stunner, with those long pins and that hair.’ He looked sheepish. ‘Okay, and I’m aware that as an intelligent human being, you don’t appreciate being rated just for your looks. So, er, I also think you must be one right clever, special person to have helped Taxos avoid total economic ruin.’

  I giggled again – something I hadn’t done much of, lately. ‘Ten out of ten for PC-ness. And, um, thanks for the compliments.’

  ‘No probs. To be honest, your reputation preceded you anyway. Word gets around and I’d heard of Pippa Pattinson weeks ago. Stavros often comes in here on a Thursday night – you know him, right?’

  I nodded. ‘Yes. I’ve just run a new project by him, in fact.’

  Romeo leant forward. ‘New project? How about I introduce you to the Kos business community? We have fortnightly meetings. Everyone is dead supportive.’

  ‘Oh. Yes.’ I smiled. ‘Thanks. Sounds great.’

  Romeo reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a card. ‘Here’s my phone number and email address. Just contact me, when you are ready. Now this new project…?’

  Over another refreshing glass of water, I found myself rambling uncontrollably about my loggerhead turtle charity.

  ‘Whoa! Catch your breath for a minute,’ said Romeo eventually and held up his hand.

  I grinned.

  ‘You’re looking for another trustee?’

  ‘Yes. Hopefully Stavros’ brother Orion, who owns Creami-Kos, will come on board.’

  Romeo thought for a moment and then looked up and waved to the group of businessmen who’d just come in. ‘Right, well, let me mull it over, Pippa, but would you consider me?’ He knocked back his drink. ‘I’m thirty next year…’ He gave a wry smile. ‘…and have been thinking for a while, it’s about time I got involved with something that didn’t involve booze or twerking. This might be just the challenge I need.’

  He leant over and kissed me on both cheeks, before I could think straight. Obviously, I’d have to check out Romeo’s credentials as I’d only just met the man, but it would be great to get another business-savvy person on board. Great, my plan really was coming together now. I clasped my hands together. ‘Thanks, Kevin,’ I whispered in his ear and we both laughed, just as Cleo returned and sat in his place.

  ‘Ooh, no feel so good,’ she said, slurring her words a little. ‘Those Pina Coladas… I don’t think coconut cream agrees with me.’ She patted my arm. ‘Hope tonight has made you feel better about your break-up with dear Niko.’

  I squirmed in my seat. ‘He told you?’

  ‘Of course. That’s why I planned tonight – reckoned you could do with cheering up. I mean, he’s quite a catch…would be such a shame to lose him.’

  My eyes narrowed.

  ‘Niko…’ She sighed. ‘…he’s such a good man. In fact, he and me share a lovely little secret.’ She giggled. ‘Ha! Better not say any more, just in case he changes his mind about it.’

  ‘Secret?’ My brow furrowed.

  She nodded and seconds later grimaced. ‘Ooh. I feel a little ill. Must not say any more – the alcohol might make me reveal something I shouldn’t.’

  I blinked rapidly. What could she mean? I leant forward, about to ask her several questions, when her hand flew up to her mouth.

  ‘Ooh, something bad going to happen…’ With that she promptly reached for the ice bucket, yanked out the champagne bottle and vomited into its empty space.

  Chapter Seventeen

  ‘Darling! Why the panda eyes? Working too hard? Have you run out of concealer? They had a fab-u-lous beauty product sale on in Selfridges last week, including electronics such as mini straighteners. And you should have seen the Christmas decorations in Harrods. Plus you’ll never guess who I bumped into when—’

  Meet Mum.

  Dad gave me a wry smile. ‘Pippa. You look beautiful. Happy Christmas, love.’

  I stood against the wall to let them into the villa and glanced at myself in the hallway mirror. To be fair to Mum, my appearance was a far cry from London executive Pippa. Yet over the last few months I’d got used to my new reflection, all freckles and waves. It had been like reacquainting myself with an old friend. Although circles did underline my eyes – no surprise, considering I spent the night figuring out if the idea of Niko and me one day having kids and then grandchildren, was nothing but a foolish fantasy; that he’d never have kids with red-tinted hair – they’d be Greek through and through due to his glamorous wife, Cleo.

  I shook myself. Talk about ridiculous. Niko was not so fickle. But then what was the secret Cleo had talked about?

  ‘Just too many Pina Coladas last night,’ I said, knowing Mum’s reaction would turn from disapproval to delight. I couldn’t voice the truth – that tonight I’d be confronting Niko for a final answer – did he really want to call the wedding off?

  Vomited. Passed out. Taken home by Romeo. That had summed up the rest of Cleo’s evening. And mine? Drank copious amounts of water. Stuffed in more comforting calamari. Danced with the girls. Pretended everything was fine. It was two o’clock before I’d stumbled inside the villa.

  ‘Goodnight, my little peach,’ Grandma had called, voice wobbling a little. In the back of the car she’d squeezed my hand, eyes all shiny. Words weren’t necessary to express how much we hoped Niko would change his mind.

  ‘We love you, Pippa.’ Sophia in the biggest ouzo mood ever – apart from a poignant moment in the club when she’d suddenly hugged me and said I’d always be like a daughter to her, whatever happened.

  ‘Must do this again!’ Pandora had danced to every song.

  ‘La, la, laaaa!’ called Postie’s wife, still singing the Macarena.

  ‘Mind you, the fair has also been terribly busy,’ I said and followed my parents into the lounge. ‘More visitors than ever came today. Word seems to have spread. And a new friend of mine, Maria, dropped off these pastries. I might start selling them in the shop.’

  They sat down on the sofa and I approached them with a plate of herby lamb and beef snacks and two napkins. ‘I’m going to start making Cornish pasties and hopefully supply Creami-Kos with them. I must also tell you about a new charity fundraising project I’m starting. You see—’

  Mum stood up. Took the plate and napkins from me and then pushed me gently down to the sofa. The three of us sat, side by side.

  ‘Out with it,’ said Dad and took off his mac. Mum passed him her navy blazer, revealing a shoulder-padded cerise jumper. He folded the coats and placed them on an armchair opposite, then sat back down in it. He and Mum exchanged looks. ‘Verbal diarrhoea from you means only one thing, young lady…’ Dad raised one of his bushy eyebrows. ‘You’re hiding something.’

  ‘Thanks very much!’ I said, feeling like a teenager. I folded my arms. ‘Honestly. It’s nothing. I’m just pleased to see you.’

  ‘Where’s the man of the moment?’ asked Dad, as if reading my mind.

  ‘Is everything on target for tomorrow?’ said Mum. ‘Sorry we couldn’t get here earlier, but our new client doesn’t close for business between Christmas and New Year.’ She took a napkin and handed it to Dad, before helping them both to the food.

  ‘Well…seeing as you ask.’ Deep breath. I could do this. Only a coward would leave breaking the news that Niko and I were having real problems, until the very last minute. ‘I’m not happy…’ Nausea backed up my throat. ‘I still haven’t decided how to do my hair.’

  My parents rolled their eyes.

  ‘Pippa! It’s not like you to sweat over the small stuff!’ Mum smiled. ‘Don’t you worry, darling, I’ll come up with some ideas.’

  ‘As long as they don’t incorporate big Eighties styles from Dallas or Dynasty,’ I muttered.

  ‘It will be your wedding day! No room for subtlety there!’

  Dad winked at
me. ‘Apart from that, are you sure everything is in hand?’

  Meekly, I nodded.

  ‘And how was Henrik, last weekend?’ said Dad. ‘Wasn’t London hit by a lot of snow?’

  I stared at the mosaic rug by my feet. ‘Yes, it was. And Henrik’s good. Olivia was very nice.’ In fact I’d sent her a tentative email before going out last night. I felt a phone call might be too much, after everything that had happened. Yet she’d emailed back straight away with some really good advice for my charity work.

  ‘When is their Big Day?’ said Mum and wiped her mouth. ‘Mmm, that filo pastry is to die for.’

  ‘Their wedding – it’s off.’ That was easier than telling them mine might be too. ‘Long story. Henrik is moving to Dubai.’

  Mum tutted. ‘No surprise. I told your dad Henrik’s engagement was too quick and she must have been the Rebound Girl.’

  ‘His words exactly,’ I mumbled and fiddled with my watch. ‘You don’t think that…’ My voice stuttered. ‘…that me and Niko got engaged too quickly, as well?’

  ‘Good lord, no. You’ve known each other for years.’ said Dad and got up. He went over to the central heating thermostat and turned the temperature up. He sat back down again. ‘You know your mother, Pippa – she doesn’t hold back on her opinions.’ He smiled. ‘She’d have said something by now.’

  I glanced at them both. ‘Yes. Of course. Just wedding nerves! And I haven’t even made you a coffee!’ I jumped up to put the kettle on.

  ‘Funnily enough the engagement didn’t bother me, darling,’ said Mum. ‘In fact, knowing Niko, I could only feel pleased. What unsettled me more was you giving up your banking career to open a teashop, after all that hard study. But your father and I have discussed it and…’

  He shrugged. ‘We’re proud of you, love. Not many people have the courage to follow their dreams. You know, I wanted to be a vet, but plumped for a job I thought would be more financially secure.’

  ‘My dream was to be a make-up assistant to the stars,’ said Mum.

  The three of us looked at each other and chuckled.

  ‘You would have been a disaster,’ I said and spooned coffee into three mugs. ‘You need to massage celebrity egos for that job, whereas you would have just told them straight if they were looking rough. But a vet…’ I gazed at Dad. ‘How come we’ve never owned any pets?’

  ‘With our lifestyle? You in boarding school…us travelling the world? No. It just wasn’t possible. But perhaps one day when we slow down.’

  Mum shot him a look as if to say don’t ever suggest we are getting old. I grinned. Oh, I did miss my parents. Funny, you’d think I wouldn’t so much, after a boarding school childhood. Or perhaps it was the opposite – missing them had become a way of life.

  ‘Maybe we’ll live at this villa more and take on a dog,’ Dad continued. ‘Quarantine rules aren’t so strict nowadays, I believe.’ He pulled a face. ‘We just need to get a reliable builder in to sort out the drains. I’m tired of waiting for the council to.’

  I brought the coffees over on a tray, and then sat down.

  Mum plucked a piece of fluff off her trousers. ‘Are you happy, darling? Living in a sleepy village instead of London?’

  ‘So, so happy,’ I said. ‘And don’t make Taxos sound so archaic! We have internet. The Greeks are no different to us – into all mod-cons. Kos Town is brill for shopping.’ I cleared my throat. ‘I must admit, it’s taken a bit of getting used to, but Taxos really feels like my home.’

  Dad picked up the local paper from the coffee table and like he’d always done in my childhood, tried in vain to understand the articles.

  ‘Just so you know, we’re also immensely proud of how you helped to turn around the village’s prospects, last summer,’ said Mum. ‘You’re a good girl.’

  Whatever my age, those words always made my chest glow.

  ‘And how is Grandma? Still in good health?’ She sipped her drink.

  I smiled. ‘Yes, out with me last night, at a dance club – and by the looks of things, the only member of the party today with bright eyes and no hangover. Georgios and Sophia have invited us over for dinner,’ I added, in a bright voice and glanced at my watch. ‘You’ve both got time to freshen up. I’m going to quickly make up some Cornish pasties to take over, to do a taste test for this new savoury venture of mine.’

  ‘Do you ever stop coming up with ideas, Pippa?’ Dad grinned. ‘Remember how you put together a business plan at school for running a tuck shop? Your headmistress was very impressed.’

  Despite myself, I laughed again. ‘It’s good to see you both.’

  Oh no. A sob welled in my chest. It had been hard all week, putting on an act, pretending Niko and I were okay.

  Dad put down the paper. ‘How did you manage to stop the dear Sotiropoulos family from turning this into one Big Fat Wedding?’

  I bit the inside of my cheeks. Little did he know, that’s exactly what it had become – not because of lavish decorations or hundreds of guests, but because of all the doubt and uncertainty surrounding it. This wedding couldn’t have been more complex.

  ‘Remember, they are trying to stick to a budget, plus there are other distractions – it’s a really busy time, especially with the Christmas fair this year.’

  Mum drained her mug. ‘Plus they are such lovely people – so accommodating. Sophia is an angel. Remember that Christmas we came over and visited them, when I’d just lost Granddad? She understood completely when I didn’t want to dance and gave me open access to her and Georgios’ bedroom upstairs, if I needed a quiet moment on my own. I couldn’t imagine her ever forcing something extravagant on you, if it wasn’t what you wanted.’

  Dad shook his head at Mum. ‘It’s a mystery to me how you and that lovely woman get on. You’re quite the opposite. Like insisting on throwing me a “surprise” party for my fiftieth, even though I’d declared I didn’t want to celebrate.’

  ‘You were just being a middle-aged grump,’ said Mum firmly. ‘I’m sure men go through the menopause as well.’

  As they continued their discussion in the bedroom, I set about preparing shortcrust pastry. Perhaps, one day, I’d have a relationship like theirs. Mum and Dad were two such contrasting people, like me and Niko. Yet in a way, their dissimilarities held them together. They shared common goals, at the same time giving each other the space to be themselves.

  I rolled out the dough and cut it into large circles. Earlier I’d prepared the juicy pork and apple filling. Tonight Georgios was making moussaka and Sophia her spinach pie and Pandora had insisted on dropping off her famous chocolate and walnut cake. Plus Demetrios delivered the pottery bride and groom he’d made for the cake. We’d all cooed in wonder at the detail, down to my red hair and freckles. Cutest of all, ceramic Niko carried a fish. My figurine held a scone.

  ‘Hmm, those pasties smell good,’ said Mum as we walked into the village through the fragrant pine trees. The hoot of owls and crisp December evening air accompanied us. Fairy lights twinkled ahead and Christmas music escaped from houses. The mood at the fair had been good today, with wallets open and goods disappearing off tables. Pandora’s handkerchiefs proved popular, as did the chocolate tombola. And despite the itchy false beard, Cosmo thoroughly enjoyed being Santa.

  Mum wrinkled her nose as we veered around a pile of donkey dung. Litter from the fair danced across the road and I made a note to clear it up on my way back to the villa later on.

  My chest tightened as we approached Taxos Taverna. From Cosmo’s cycle shop opposite came the sound of his harmonica. It performed a duet with the nearby lapping tide. Deep sea air breaths. I wasn’t looking forward to confronting Niko – what if he stuck to his decision…but then why hadn’t he made the news more public? The tiniest amount of hope inflated my heart for a minute and in my mind I ran through my turtle charity plan and how I would explain it to him.

  Then as soon as I saw the cheerful faces of our families as they hugged each other and joked about how we could
double-barrel our names to Sotiropoulos-Pattinson, something inside me erupted. A burst of impatience, combined with wanting to do the right thing, perhaps. If the wedding was off, these people needed to be told as soon as possible. The way Niko looked – his blue shirt open at the chest…those dark eyes hinting at secrets…all my instincts told me to press him up against the wall and kiss the confusion, the misunderstanding and doubt, into some hiding place. But that was no good. I wanted a proper, solid future with him, having fully confronted any issues. I couldn’t wait a second longer to find out if his heart was in tomorrow’s ceremony – or if he just wanted us to carry on dating and wouldn’t turn up.

  I grabbed Niko’s hand and led him outside to the front of the taverna, little shots of electricity running up my arm. That always happened when we didn’t spend enough time together – every atom of my body craved a connection.

  ‘I…we…’ I threw my hands in the air. ‘This is ludicrous. We can’t continue like this.’ I cleared my throat, determined to stand strong. ‘Niko – the time has come to make a final decision. Is this wedding on or off?’

  His eyebrows knotted. ‘Look, I’m sorry I’ve been distracted…with Cleo…the accident…but I feel…I feel more like myself today.’

  I glanced inside. Mum and Sophia were nudging and winking each other. Only Grandma’s brow furrowed.

  ‘Let’s go to the beach,’ I muttered. ‘We need to talk – privately. There’s something I want to tell you.’

  ‘But the meal—’

  ‘This can’t wait!’ I said, chest tighter than ever as, minutes later, we sat down on the sand and gazed into the distance, the moon half hidden by sepia cloud.

  ‘Like I said…’ He turned to face me and tentatively took my hand. ‘I think that knock on the head…the whole refugee experience…it knocked me off-centre. Everyone says I’ve been a bit detached – even Apollo got fed up yesterday and bit my arm for my attention.’