by Mandy Baggot
‘Can we help make something?’ Tristan asked.
Visions of ketchup-festooned pastry and chocolate spread filled Imogen’s mind and she opened her mouth to protest.
‘Course,’ Harry said, beating her to it. ‘Elpida’s recipe book is so thick it looks like something out of Dumbledore’s office.’
‘Who is this Dumbledora?’ Elpida asked.
‘He’s from Harry Potter,’ Olivia informed.
‘Is this a place?’ Elpida inquired.
‘No,’ Tristan said. ‘Hogwarts is the place.’
‘Pigs with warts?’ Elpida said. ‘I have some cream for this.’
‘Can we have some of the biscuits now?’ Tristan asked, the tips of his fingers inching the platter nearer to him.
She watched Harry serve up the biscuits, dolloping cream on everyone’s plates. His eyes were alive, his body language open, full of energy.
‘Immy has been brilliant,’ Harry stated. His eyes went to his children. ‘Did you know your Auntie Imogen can wrestle a goat?’
‘What?!’ Olivia exclaimed, mouth open wide.
‘Really?!’ Tristan said. ‘I don’t think even Darryn our scout leader can do that.’
‘It’s true,’ Harry continued. ‘I never saw anything like it before.’
‘Harry…’ Imogen started, a smirk on her face.
‘No, Immy, you take the credit where it’s due,’ Harry insisted. ‘And I have to say, the tablecloths, the candles and this kumquat stuff… it’s just… I was just thinking for a better word than “brilliant”. But I’ll say it in Greek.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Éxochos.’
‘Very good,’ Elpida said, clapping her hands.
‘I really want to learn Greek,’ Olivia stated.
‘Me too,’ Tristan agreed, grabbing a spoon and beginning to eat.
‘Well, if you spend lots more time in Corfu you’re going to pick it up in no time,’ Harry said, beaming.
‘Harry,’ Janie said, a warning note to her voice.
‘What?’ Harry said, nudging his wife’s arm. ‘I know how you feel about Corfu, don’t hide it.’ He put a hand over hers. ‘I know you still remember that little pebble beach at Agni.’
Janie’s eyes shone as a blush pinked her cheeks.
Imogen picked up the small jug of compote and spooned some on a plate before offering it to Harry for a plate of biscuits for Janie. ‘So, these kumquats are a big thing here in Corfu,’ she said. ‘Apparently the hot summers and the amount of annual rainfall are perfect growing conditions.’ She smiled, putting the plate down in front of Janie. ‘Who knew?’
‘Yes,’ Elpida stated. ‘Who knew that you know this?’ She sniffed at her cigarette like it was smelling salts. ‘It is amazing what you can find out from the town of Arillas, no?’
Imogen caught the woman’s eye. Just how much did she know about Arillas?
‘It’s really nice,’ Tristan said through a mouthful.
‘Children eating fruit without complaints. I’m all for that,’ Janie said, taking a sip of wine, her other hand unmoved under Harry’s.
‘This is fruit!’ Olivia exclaimed.
‘I won’t tell you how much sugar also went into it,’ Imogen whispered to Janie.
‘Who’s going to want seconds?’ Harry asked them.
Two hands went up in the air, followed by muffled affirmations.
‘We could have ice cream with it. I’ve got four flavours,’ Harry reminded.
‘Vanilla, please,’ Olivia said.
‘Chocolate for me, Dad,’ Tristan answered.
‘You were right, Imogen,’ Janie whispered as Harry got up from the table and headed back towards the kitchen.
‘About what?’ she asked, turning slightly in her seat.
‘He’s a different man here.’ Janie continued to watch him. ‘Today I saw him shifting crates of drinks, painting a pergola, hanging fairy lights, talking to someone from the local council, driving a van… then running around in the sand with the children.’ She fingered the stem of her wineglass. ‘Here in Corfu he’s so calm. So… at home.’
‘Ah, soon you will feel this way too,’ Elpida stated, eyes on Janie.
‘Who, me?’ Janie exclaimed, one hand on her chest. ‘Oh no, I mean, I love Corfu for a holiday but my home’s in England.’
‘For now,’ Elpida said, nodding.
‘So,’ Imogen began, sitting forward on her seat and changing the subject. ‘Panos’ signs went up today.’
‘Pfft! Do not talk to me about signs. I hate signs. They are meant to tell everyone that he own this, like a statement of what a big parcel he has in his trousers.’
‘Who has a parcel down their trousers?’ Olivia asked, licking at her spoon.
Janie began choking on her biscuit.
‘No one,’ Imogen said quickly, her eyes darting to Elpida.
‘That boy will be the death of me. He says he worries about me smoking too much. Pfft! I could smoke all the cigarettes in Greece and his stress will still be the nail in the coffin before the tar and nicotine can start to rot me.’
Imogen’s vision moved to the green patch of wasteland. ‘Elpida, do you know who owns that piece of land between here and Tomas’ Taverna?’
The woman put the unlit cigarette between her lips and sucked as if hoping to get some relief. ‘Why do you want to know this?’
‘Well, it’s right next to Halloumi and if Panos can buy it, it means his nightclub complex could be actually wall to wall with us. I can’t envisage our diners wanting to hear the latest Flo Rida pumping through the cavity.’
‘I’m worried about that too,’ Janie admitted. ‘I mean, if the restaurant doesn’t go well and Harry does have to sell it again how much less will it be worth right next to something like Spearmint Rhino?’
Tristan pulled a face. ‘I don’t like spearmints. They taste funny.’
‘I was thinking,’ Imogen carried on. ‘If Harry and I could buy it then we could maybe put a play area there.’ She thought about the little dark-haired girl and her ball she’d seen the other day. ‘Swings and a slide or a play house,’ Imogen mused. ‘It might encourage more families to Halloumi and later in the night, when the rave is really kicking off, the children won’t be there to hear it because they’ll be in bed and it will just give us a little breathing space.’
Elpida let out a breath. ‘I am hoping it won’t come to this. That Pano will see sense before any of this will happen.’
‘Signs going up tends to mean people are serious,’ Janie offered.
‘So, could you find out?’ Imogen said. ‘Ask around?’
Elpida nodded. ‘I will find out.’
‘It’s all go at the moment, isn’t it? What with the restaurant and your mum getting April’s house,’ Janie spoke up.
Imogen nodded. It was true. Everything was changing around her but in some ways she felt like a bystander, close to the action but distanced. Just like how things were with Panos at the moment.
Unconsciously she picked up her phone and refreshed her inbox. She was still holding on to a last flicker of hope that the promised email from the Wyatt Hotel Group was going to be something other than a rejection. She watched the circle spiral around and three new emails arrived. Vistaprint, Amazon and a prince of Nigeria. That just about said everything.
50
Elpida Dimitriou’s home, Agios Martinos
Panos looked at the papers laid out on the table before him. He had been sitting in the early morning fingers of sunlight since it was light enough to see his way to the garden from the back door of the house. In front of him was a map of the area and some workings Alejandro Kalas had passed to him in confidence. This was the rough outline of a community market for the Acharavi region. Why he was looking at it now the signs were up on Tomas’ Taverna he didn’t really know. He had another meeting scheduled with Lafi from Avalon but he was unsure what the outcome was going to be. One business on the beachfront might not be enough unless… he acquired the strip of lan
d next to Halloumi. He just needed to find out who owned it and make them an offer. The community market could perhaps be something else. A pet project that might appease the locals once the diggers moved in.
His phone rumbled next to the papers and he picked it up, looking at the screen. A business news alert.
Fraser Limited buys up StoreCo
Tension invaded his jawline as he swiped to reveal the article. His step-father had been busy. First awards, now his company had just purchased one of the biggest businesses in the UK. Did he really want to read the gory details? And why was he filled with envy? John worked hard. He had built his company up from nothing. He loved Panos’ mother.
His eyes went to the article. There was John, finger-pointing and looking like a politician, speaking at a conference last year. He scrolled down the screen, his eyes skimming the details of the billion-pound deal. And then he stopped as another photo appeared.
John and Sophia. His mother looking so vibrant and beautiful. He swallowed, eyes fixed on her image. She was wearing a sea-green-coloured cocktail dress, her red hair loose like a Titian goddess. She was smiling, not just with her mouth for the camera, but with every single part of her body. He couldn’t remember seeing her look quite like… not since he was a boy and she had danced with his father on a Saturday night.
The last message she had left for him had been an invitation to visit her in the UK. He had never responded. Why? How he felt about family, how he had chosen to live his life wasn’t down to her. It was down to him... and because of Christos.
‘Pano!’ Elpida’s voice called.
He put his phone back down and hurriedly folded up the papers as he heard Elpida’s steps coming across the decked area. Standing up, he faced her with a smile. She looked almost dressed for combat, wearing a rainbow-coloured knee-length dress in a camouflage print and matching headscarf, black trainers on her feet.
‘Good morning,’ he greeted.
‘What is this?’ Elpida asked.
‘What is what?’ He had positioned himself to hide the paperwork. Unless she had developed X-ray vision there was nothing to see here.
‘You, up at dawn, in the garden.’
‘I had work to do,’ he stated.
‘I have seen the signs, Pano, but today? Festival day?’ Elpida exclaimed like he had committed an awful sin.
He smiled. ‘I worked early so I could help you now.’
‘Good,’ she began. ‘Because Rhea and I need a car to Halloumi to get things ready. Risto has taken my car.’
‘I can do this.’
‘Kalós,’ she nodded.
‘So, you saw the signs,’ Panos said, hands on his hips.
‘Yes, the name of your company in big letters. Very good. You would like me to do a sirtaki dance?’ Elpida asked, lifting one foot off the floor.
He shook his head.
‘Good, because I save my dancing for tonight.’
‘But I do want to ask you something,’ Panos stated.
‘Go on,’ Elpida said. ‘As long as it is not to do with smoking then I listen.’
Panos pulled in a breath, already expecting resistance. ‘Do you know who owns the piece of land next to our old restaurant?’
‘Pfft!’ Elpida shook her head violently. ‘What is the matter with you? Is it not enough to buy one of my favourite restaurants and get ready to close it down? And I know Avalon is on your list too. Cooky told me. Now you want to buy up something right next to Harry and Imogen’s place!’
‘It is business, yiayia.’
‘I don’t like that sort of business.’
‘Listen, it is confidential for now but… I hope also to be involved with the community market.’
‘Pfft!’ Elpida remarked. ‘To try to make yourself look good?’
‘I bet you do not say these things to John,’ he said, immediately wishing he hadn’t.
‘Why do you speak of John?’ Elpida asked, narrowing her eyes and focussing like a fly about to descend on a leftover meal.
He shook his head again, unwilling to reveal more.
‘Should I dislike John because he is not my Christos?’ Elpida asked. ‘Pfft! That is no way to behave. Christos is gone and I will not wish for John to pay for my son’s mistakes.’
He could see there were tears in his grandmother’s eyes and he hated that he had caused that. Was that what he wanted to happen? For his step-father to fail because his own father had?
‘Imogen also asked me who owned the land next to Halloumi,’ Elpida admitted. ‘She wants to build a play park for the children visiting the restaurant.’ She sniffed. ‘When I speak to the owner I know which offer I shall be recommending.’
‘Yiayia…’ he began, reaching out for her arm.
‘Pfft! No more sentiment, Pano, there is much to do today,’ she said, shifting out of his reach. ‘Change into something old,’ she said as she turned away. ‘I have a lot of carrying for you to do.’
51
Halloumi, Acharavi Beachfront
‘Right!’ Harry clapped his hands as he entered the kitchen. ‘Let’s get this show on the road.’
Imogen looked up from the bowl of mussels, fresh from one of the local fishermen this morning. She had soaked them in cold water, discarded the ones that had opened when she’d tapped them and she was now scrubbing any barnacles or imperfections from them. They were going to be steamed with shallots, garlic and rosemary and served in disposable pots at the folklore festival.
‘Is Janie still asleep?’ she asked.
‘No, she’s getting Olivia and Tristan ready.’ Harry grinned. ‘I ducked out when Tristan started moaning about his Southampton football shirt not being in his suitcase.’
‘Oh dear,’ she answered. ‘It sounds like a heinous crime.’
‘He thinks so,’ Harry said with a laugh. ‘So, Immy, today’s the day.’
‘I know,’ she answered, dropping another handful of mussels into a dish. ‘I’m making a dish I haven’t made in years but I picked a simple one. One you can make when I’m back in the UK.’ She looked up at her brother. ‘Is everything ready?’
‘I don’t know,’ Harry said. ‘What do you think?’
Both of them gazed out of the kitchen and through the now open hatch into the main restaurant area. There were gauzy cream drapes at each window now, enough to give a little privacy but not enough to block out any light or the fabulous sea view. Imogen drew in a contented breath.
‘So, you can admit it now,’ Harry said, slipping an arm around her shoulders. ‘You should have trusted your big brother.’
‘Let’s not go too far,’ she answered with a smile.
‘We’re down to the final few hurdles.’
‘Hurdles?’
‘Hoops,’ Harry said.
‘To jump through? What sort of hoops?’ Her heart kicked up a gear and she dropped the mussel she was holding.
‘Nothing that can’t be sorted,’ he insisted. ‘Breathe.’ He pulled in a breath, his motion causing her chest to rise almost involuntarily.
‘We know what food we’re making today and we have enough ingredients to see us through opening night and the next week, yes?’
Harry closed his eyes, still breathing, and nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘And you’re going to get the condiment pots for the tables today.’
‘Yes.’
‘This morning I’m picking up the flyers with the vouchers on to give away.’
‘Yep.’
‘The fire man is coming to inspect before noon and then he’ll go to the fire station and get us the certificate,’ Imogen reeled off.
‘That’s right.’
‘Then…’
‘I’m still waiting for one very small piece of paperwork,’ Harry admitted.
‘What sort of paperwork?’
‘It’s nothing for you to worry about.’
‘Saying that only makes me worry more.’ She shrugged off his arm. ‘Tell me.’
‘There was a problem getti
ng my business permit.’
‘I only heard the word “problem”. Explain!’ Imogen begged.
‘We just need to have that in place before we open.’
‘Before we open when, Harry?’ she asked. ‘Because although we’re not open open we’re going to be open today.’ Her heart was pounding now, like she was running for a train that was about to leave. ‘We’re going to be serving food! What does this mean?!’
‘I’m not sure,’ Harry responded.
‘What?!’ Imogen exploded. ‘Harry! How can you not know?!’ So much for him being the epitome of calm. How could he be when there was a licence missing?
‘There’s a lot of red tape in Greece but they also seem to be sensible about things.’
‘That isn’t an answer!’ She put her hands on her hips. ‘Do we need to call someone? Go somewhere? Will Elpida know?’
‘De-stress,’ Harry said, putting his hands on Imogen’s shoulders. ‘Take another breath.’
‘How can you be so relaxed about this? I don’t understand it… You’ve been writing lists since we got here, I thought we had everything under control. How has this gone unnoticed?’
‘It hasn’t. I just needed to dot some Is and cross some Ts and after all the dotting and crossing… well, we’ve been busy,’ Harry reminded her.
‘I don’t believe this. After everything we’ve done and all the hassle with… Panos.’ She heaved a sigh, feeling her eyes filling with tears. This was stress but it wasn’t just down to Harry’s business permit, this was concern for Harry and Janie’s marriage and the children and everything else hinging on this launch going well.
‘Immy,’ Harry said, attempting to put his arm around her again.
‘I’m fine. It’s the mussels… they’re… mussely.’ She sniffed. ‘Tell me how we fix it?’
‘I’ll ring the permit guy as soon as they’re open,’ Harry promised. ‘Because it’s my restaurant and I’m taking responsibility.’
He nudged her arm with his elbow, forcing her to reconnect. ‘What will you be doing without me when you get home, eh? Boredom central without a restaurant to open.’