My Big Fat Christmas Wedding

by Samantha Tonge

  He gave a small lopsided smile.

  ‘Not seeing you on Christmas Day…’ His voice became ragged. ‘I never want to go through that again. Please forgive me, Pippa. As soon as I boarded that plane last Friday night, I knew, in my heart, that I was being an idiot. You and me – we fit together. The differences keep it interesting.’

  ‘So since you’ve got home, you’ve not questioned my love?’ My eyes tingled.

  ‘Not your love – no – just—’

  ‘So what is this secret, with Cleo?’

  His face flushed. ‘She told you about that?’

  ‘No. Just said there was something.’

  ‘I…I can’t tell you…not yet.’

  I sighed. ‘So – where do we stand? Do you still believe that the only thing that matters to me is glitz and fancy parties? That in my heart, I regret leaving my London life? I’ve backed off this week, Niko – to give you space. But tomorrow is our wedding day. People – I – deserve to know what’s going on in your head.’

  He nodded. ‘I have thought about nothing else all week. And I get it now – your move here has been life-changing, no? I didn’t really appreciate that until we were in London and I felt out of place after just a few hours – you’ve spent months here. And you will probably need a few more months to adjust, still. I spent a lot of time thinking about that, since I got home from hospital and realised how I’d acted too rashly, fleeing England and shunning you when you visited me on the ward.’

  ‘But Niko…you’ve always been the one for me. It was nice seeing Henrik and London again, but surely that’s natural? Honestly, I felt nothing deeper – just a sensation of missing a previous life. Plus I searched you out all evening. You were always with Lisette. And I know that was my fault,’ I said, as his mouth opened. ‘I should have introduced you to more people instead of getting carried away, chatting with old colleagues.’

  Niko looked down. ‘I acted like a sulky child. It was your night. I should have been open with you about my feelings and not just run off.’

  ‘So be open now and tell me about this secret with Cleo.’

  ‘No – because if it doesn’t happen…it could cause disappointment for—’

  ‘For who? Her?’ I gave a loud sigh. ‘Honestly, Niko. Please. Let’s have a little transparency.’ My face crumpled and the stress of the last week tightened my chest. Oh no. The frustration built. My mouth opened. Emotional words shot out. ‘I was so worried when you flounced off to Greece with that cancellation ticket you got, Friday night. And then you didn’t reply to my texts. All Saturday, I was worried sick,’ I said, not caring if I was being unfair, because it hurt, the happiness in his body language every time he talked about Cleo.

  ‘Oh how sorry I am – forgive me for trying to save lives.’ Eyes sparking, he gazed at me and shook his head. ‘Look – our families are waiting for us at the taverna. I cannot deal with you when you angry like this. If you really think so low of me, then, then…’ He shook his head. ‘Just do what you think best.’ He jumped up. ‘Cleo was only—’

  But I didn’t hear. Why couldn’t he just declare his love for me, then and there? I swallowed the sob that rose at the back of my throat and also got up. ‘Don’t bother speaking if you can’t manage one sentence without mentioning her name.’

  He ran a hand through his curly hair. ‘Pippa. You are being ridiculous. Over-dramatic. Perhaps that personality is better suited to dynamic London.’ His eyes glistened.

  More chewing of the inside of my cheeks, to stop the flow of tears. ‘That’s what you’d expect,’ I said, eventually, ‘but I have news for you. Taxos is my home, whether I’m with you or not.’

  He raised one eyebrow as if I was the one telling lies.

  My fists curled. I’d show him that Pippa Pattinson was in control of her own destiny, and didn’t ping between London, Taxos – or Dubai for that matter – on the whim of two men. So as briefly as possible, I told him about my charity idea…Romeo and Orion’s involvement…the disused boat shed. How I’d already talked to Yanis and Stavros. How I planned to stay on here, with my new friends and business venture; how I intended to spend the rest of my life swimming in Kos’s turquoise waters and knowing the names of my neighbours.

  ‘Surprised you, haven’t I?’ I muttered, as he stood silent. With a gulp, I turned to go. ‘Tell Mum and Dad I’ve got a headache and will see them in the morning.’

  ‘No, Pippa! Stop! Let me explain!’

  Without waiting for a reply, I sprinted along the beach towards Caretta Cove, safe in the knowledge that, with his abdominal bruises, he’d never catch up. Yet footsteps sounded behind me and Niko called my name. I ran faster, only stopping once to briefly turn around. Squinting I saw Niko bent over, rubbing his chest.

  A sense of satisfaction should have washed over me, as I’d just given Niko the ultimate evidence of my commitment to Taxos; the ultimate proof that all his doubts about me were wrong. But instead, a sense of helplessness washed over me. When I eventually slowed my pace, I sat on a rock and delved into my coat pocket. Carefully, I pulled out the Syrian couple’s lucky silver charm. Using my mobile phone as a torch, I studied the shape of the hand and the blue evil eye.

  ‘Big fat lot of good you were to me,’ I said, but couldn’t help giving it one final kiss, before I lifted my arm in the air and aimed the charm at the sea.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Something old – my underwear. Why make the effort?

  Something new – the dress, hand-stitched by Pandora.

  Something borrowed – Mum’s pearl necklace. Apparently, she’d worn it to my christening.

  Something blue – the evil eye in the charm would be lodged down my cleavage (I just couldn’t bring myself to throw it into the ocean).

  Why did I need luck? Because I’d woken up to my parents pouring out Bucks Fizz, Dad whistling and Mum complaining how her hat made her nose look big. Then she put on her Eighties wedding song compilation album, forcing me to listen to those classic ballads, ‘Endless Love’ and ‘Take My Breath Away’? It added to the growing niggly feeling inside that I may have – it’s just a small possibility that… aarghh okay, what if I’d overreacted last night?

  In bed I’d analysed our whole conversation on the beach and the upshot was that I’d hardly let Niko finish a single sentence. Conversely, he’d hung on my every word when I’d described my loggerhead turtle charity plan. Plus tried to chase me when I left. Nausea filled my throat every time I recalled the image of him bent over in pain, as I fled.

  Therefore first thing I’d raced into the village and tried to find him for a proper talk. But he was already out with Cleo. I almost asked Sophia if he’d come back at all to the taverna last night. Shoulders sagging, any appetite for breakfast gone, I’d loped back to the villa and arrived seconds before my parents got up. You should have seen their faces when I fitted on the dress. Pandora’s sewing really was exquisite. Think elegant, floor-length, with simple ivory lines and a sleeveless bodice – with the arms and backs covered with delicate lace detailing. It skimmed over my curves without the slightest puckering. My parents’ excitement offered a welcome distraction from my brain trying to make sense of my argument with Niko and whether he’d be waiting for me in the church’s aisle. Surely he would have cancelled the wedding by now, if he no longer saw me as his wife? Feeling like an actress in a play, I smiled and showed excitement, trying to behave like a typical bride. How had it come to this? At the final hour, I still wasn’t sure what was going to happen.

  The wedding was supposed to be at three o’clock. This morning, for one final time, villagers would set up their stalls in time to entertain the Sotiropoulos relatives descending on our village. The fly-leaf advertising the Taxos Christmas fair stated it would finish at one pm on the Friday. This would give our neighbours time to change and head to the church. We’d agreed on an open invitation for the whole village, then food afterwards back at the taverna for family and close friends only.

  ‘A
nd the cake?’ said Mum.

  Pandora caught my eye and grinned. She’d called in for a very last-minute dress-fitting. Plus she was my koumbara – Matron of Honour. I hadn’t wanted loads of bridesmaids nor pageboys. Sophia had been brilliant as we’d tried not to disappoint her relatives who had small children.

  ‘You marry a family, not just a man,’ one had muttered and glared.

  ‘Pippa no like fuss,’ Sophia had said. ‘But we provide a lovely posy for all the children to hold during the ceremony and ask that they dress up to have special photos with the bride afterwards.’

  ‘The cake is already at the taverna, but I have a photo of it on my phone,’ said Pandora, a twinkle in her eye. ‘I followed Iris’ design.’ The baker had been thrilled and surprised when I’d asked her to be my right-hand woman for the wedding, but how could I choose anyone else?

  ‘You’ve always believed in me and my plans to help Taxos,’ I’d said. ‘Plus welcomed me into the village and your life. And all those childhood memories I have of you, giving Niko and me slices of your baklava, which is the best in the whole of Greece.’

  Pandora rifled in her handbag and pulled out her mobile. Mum’s eyes bulged. Dad tittered. I glanced at the photo of the blue and white-iced sponge in the shape of a domed Greek church, with green and black olive marzipan branches draped around the bottom.

  ‘That’s very…’ Mum looked at me.

  ‘Authentic?’ I suggested. ‘Don’t those olives look realistic?’

  Eventually Mum’s face broke into a smile. ‘You know what, darling, I absolutely love it. It’s from the heart – none of those clinical sugar roses or towered pastel cupcakes nonsense. What flavour is it, Pandora?’

  ‘The top tier is plain, the middle lemon and the bottom chocolate.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Mum stared closer at the phone’s screen. ‘Delicious.’

  I had planned to make some of my famous glittery scones this week, for the reception. Just as well I hadn’t been feeling sparkly enough, because now they might have been wasted. I pretended to blow my nose with a tissue, its real purpose to dab my wet eyes. I still had to find Niko this morning and finally let him talk.

  ‘I, um, just need to go into the village,’ I said, in a measured voice to control any wobble at the thought that Pandora’s scrumptious cake may never be cut; that I’d been over-imaginative about this secret between Cleo and Niko. What if now it was too late and he’d had enough of my accusations and our arguments?

  Mum sucked in her cheeks. ‘What about your hair, nails and make-up?’

  ‘It’s still five hours to the wedding and I’m already getting cabin fever in here,’ I said. ‘Look…why don’t we go and take a look around the fair?’

  ‘Because we know what you are like,’ said Dad and drained his flute of Bucks Fizz. He smiled. ‘You’ll get roped into helping someone and will end up running late for church.’

  ‘I won’t. Promise. Pandora, shall we walk back with you?’

  ‘You are definitely pleased with your dress?’ she said.

  I kissed her on the cheek. ‘Couldn’t be happier.’

  My limbs felt heavy as I anticipated everyone’s disappointment if Niko didn’t say “I do”. His relatives were travelling here from other islands. Georgios and Sophia had sweated over the menu. Grandma had put so much thought into the flowers. Pandora would miss out on the glory of everyone admiring her baking and sewing skills.

  I gave everyone a bright smile. ‘Come on. Let’s do some last-minute Christmas shopping.’

  However shopping was the last thing on my mind. As soon as we reached the busy high street, I felt bad but gave Mum and Dad the slip. No mean feat, as everyone who saw me slowed my escape by wanting a kiss or hug. I lost count of the number of people who wished me well. Feeling as discreet as Mum’s slash of red lipstick, I made my way to Taxos Taverna. Grandma stood outside, shaking a small mat.

  ‘Sweet Pippa! What are you doing here?’ She gave me a small smile. ‘Shouldn’t you be making yourself even more beautiful and drinking champagne?’

  I bit my lip. ‘Is Niko back yet?’

  She stopped her work.’ No. It is a shame you missed him earlier this morning… Pippa…my little sugar doughball…what is going on? Is the ceremony going ahead or not?’

  Out of nowhere, a sob lurched into my throat. With Iris I could no longer keep up the pretence. ‘It might really be over.’ My voice cracked.

  Grandma put the mat on a nearby table and sat me on a chair. She sank into the one to its side.

  ‘Pippa – you are wrong. Last night…I felt something was up with Niko and privately read his coffee sediment. It said a foreigner’s luck would make sure he put down roots with an old friend.’

  ‘That makes no sense at all, as usual,’ I said, teasing her through tears. I sniffed. ‘Cleo is an old friend. Perhaps it means her.’

  Grandma burst out laughing. ‘You are not serious? Niko would never marry her.’

  ‘How do you know? They have spent most of the week together and she speaks so highly of him.’

  Grandma’s brow furrowed. ‘Niko worked out years ago that Cleo was using him for money and treats and would never go out with her again. It came as no surprise that her first husband divorced her, calling her a golddigger.’

  ‘But they seem so close.’

  Grandma nodded. ‘Cleo may not make the best wife, but she has proven to be a loyal friend. A couple of years ago, Uncle Christos almost had his house repossessed. He would have lost everything he’d ever worked for. Niko contacted Cleo, because of her estate agency expertise. She worked her magic, and rented it to a wealthy artist from Athens who wanted a quiet retreat to work in. Then she found Christos and Stefan a modest place to rent.’

  Gosh. Who would have thought? ‘I still find it odd – their friendship. She and Niko have hardly anything in common.’

  Grandma smoothed down her apron. ‘How do you remember Cleo?’

  ‘Glamorous. Loved celebrity. Never stopped talking at – or over – people.’

  ‘Exactly. She wasn’t the most popular at school – came across as thinking she was better than the rest. But Niko has the knack of seeing the soul in people. He always defended her. I don’t think she’s ever forgotten that. She hurried to Taxos this week, as soon as word spread of Niko’s brush with death.’ Grandma shook her head. ‘And fond of him as she is, Cleo would never settle down with a humble fisherman.’

  I stared at my nails, all filed and ready for polish. It looked like I’d been a bit harsh about the glamorous Greek siren.

  Grandma cleared her throat. ‘Niko mumbled something about him and Cleo going to the houses opposite the pottery. She must have had a bit of work to do for the estate agency.’

  ‘Thanks.’ I stood up.

  I ducked my head, to avoid anyone’s eyes, and cut through the crowds and passed a crocodile line of children being led by Stefan, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. They must have been heading for the beach treasure hunt. I sloped off, around the back way, to the road where Niko would be.

  It was empty as most people were either selling or buying items at the fair. Demetrio’s aubergine-coloured pottery shop was closed as he was running his stall. Across the road I spotted Cleo, glossy blonde highlighted curls trailing down her leather jacket. She wore skinny jeans and high boots. As Grandma said, it seemed unlikely a woman like her would consider settling down in a village like Taxos.

  She stood outside an adorable little blue and white house, set back from the rest of the street. Detached, it had turquoise shutters and two pots outside, with a small olive tree growing from each. Whitewashed steps went up the right-hand-side to the door. Pebbles covered the ground at the front. The front door was dome-shaped at the top.

  Cleo stood on the front step and tucked in her blouse. With one hand, she smoothed down her hair and then opened her handbag to reapply lipstick. My mouth dessicated, as if I’d eaten a spoonful of sand because then Niko appeared…buttoning up his shirt. He lea
nt backwards into the house and reappeared holding his jacket. Cleo laughed, said something, and straightened his collar. And then…I pressed a fist against my mouth. He wrapped his arms around her neck and they hugged.

  Oh. I got it. A sour taste burned my tongue. That was no doubt a house Cleo was trying to sell. Clearly she’d borrowed the keys and taken Niko there to make love. I’d read about estate agents doing that for the thrill. My eyes widened. Grandma’s coffee reading was wrong.

  How could he? And on our intended wedding day as well? With a gulp, I spun around and started to run, feet stomping, pulse beating loudly in my head.

  ‘Ow!’ I tripped and landed at an angle, yelping as my foot twisted. Cue footsteps running. Before I knew it, Niko had lifted me to my feet.

  With a shake, I pulled away. ‘Leave me. I’m absolutely fine.’ Using every ounce of strength not to cry, I limped towards a bench under a palm tree and sat down.

  ‘Pippa.’ Cleo shook her shiny mane. ‘You must be more sensible or you’ll mess up your wedding day.’

  I snorted. ‘We all know there is going to be no ceremony.’ I glared at them. ‘Honestly, what sort of man shags a woman on his wedding day, who isn’t his fiancée?’ The sour taste returned to my mouth.

  ‘Shags?’ His brow furrowed and Cleo muttered something to him in Greek. Those mocha eyes widened. ‘That is your opinion of me?’

  ‘What I am supposed to conclude? You both stand there, Cleo tucking in her shirt, you buttoning yours up. You embrace. All week you have been together, sharing some secret…’

  Cleo rolled her eyes and looked at her watch. ‘Look. I go. You two talk. I need to get ready.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘And so do you, Pippa. That hair. Really. Next week, get yourself a conditioning treatment.’

  Jaw open, I watched as she teetered away, texting into her phone.

  ‘I give up. The woman leaves a life-changing conversation by discussing my hair.’

  Niko sat next to me. ‘That’s Cleo – and one of the many reasons I could never marry her.’ He took my hand. ‘Do you really believe I just slept with someone else?’