* * * * *
Kassandra took a trip to Europe for Christmas, and visited London, and also Paris. She went out in London, and almost got involved with a young Englishman who was really too young for her. In Paris, the men were less discreet, but she was less interested in them for some reason, mostly because she wouldn’t really be able to talk to them. Her French was really not good after all these years.
In Greece, she was walking up the road on an island, when a stranger hailed her in English—and in a British accent.
“Slow down there, I say, can you help direct me to town?” came the voice of a stranger who was now running from behind to catch up with her on the road.
“I don’t know this area, really,” she said in her American accent. “But I do remember that the town is straight on this way for a bit. It’s not hard to find, but you have to follow the road curving left a bit—you’ll see the town in a while if we continue on this way.”
“Oh, so you’re American.” The man said. For some reason he sounded pleased with his discovery, even if he was not.
“My name is James Hartford,” he said. “And you are?”
“Kassandra Fulbright.”
“Ah, Kassandra—how fitting. I will believe you, however. I’ve really got no choice. I hadn’t seen anything or anyone I should say out here for a while, and I wanted the most direct route to town. I wandered, you see.”
“You wandered.”
“A family tendency to enjoy wandering,” he said with a shrug. She was now laughing. He was handsome, about thirty, and wearing white pants and a sun hat and shades.
“You are remarkable,” he said. “Your laugh. I like it.”
She stopped. She hadn’t laughed so hard in ages.
“I hardly expected to meet anyone, either.”
“Wandering?”
“Guilty.”
“Then shall we return to town together? It is marvelous to meet someone I can talk with again, as I don’t speak any Greek.”
“I know a few phrases only. None that are of any use, though. I bought a traveler’s guide.” She shrugged.
They walked a ways. “I am here on holiday myself, from London now, but I was raised in Oxford. I will be here another day, one day in Athens again, and then on to Istanbul for a few days, then back home, I’m afraid.”
“Well, I leave tomorrow as well,” Kassandra said. “I came on holiday to get away from it all. Spent a little time in London, and in Paris. Now, I’m here. And it’s so different.”
“That it is. The water is just gorgeous. I was swimming—had a bit of an adventure.”
“Well, here’s the town,” said Kassandra. “You can see it there, as the road curves left.”
“Steady on a moment, are you in an absolute hurry?”
“No.”
“You don’t fancy talking with strangers.”
“You seem like a nice fellow.”
“You’re nervous.” He declared with a laugh.
“Bingo.”
“Whatever for?” he said again.
“Well, if you must know—you’re an attractive young Englishman, and I at present am not involved with anyone, and I feel a bit nervous, yes.”
“You know it happens all the time.” He said.
“What happens?”
“People meet on random Greek islands, fall in love—“
The way he said it, she knew he was joking, but she was already laughing. “I’m too old for you.”
“Really? You don’t look a day over thirty.”
“I’m thirty-nine,” she said. He was surprised.
“You are a vampire, then,” he said.
“What?” she cocked her head.
“One of those people who just doesn’t look any older as the years go by, until one day, all of a sudden—and that’s all she wrote.”
“Well, I don’t know—“
“I have made my observation. Take my arm, if you want, and we’ll have some dinner. I am famished. There must be a little café around here where we can have a lovely dinner and chat, as it were. I do love to chat with strange women.”
“Very well, then, I know where one is—a restaurant, I mean.”
Five minutes later, they were seated outside at a small outdoor café.
“We’ll have a bottle of Pinot Grigio,” said James. “Ladies, first,” he said.
“I’ll have some gyros,” she said. “And broccoli. If you have any.”
“I’ll have the same,” said James. “Never tried these gyros—let’s have a go, then, shall we?”
They talked for a long time that night, about everything—about their lives, and about their careers. James was thirty-one, and worked in London as an accountant. He came from Oxford, and was the youngest of three boys.
After dinner, which lingered until well past sundown, they heard music playing—Greek music, and there was a party for a wedding being held in the town. They followed the music to an outdoor hall, and joined the throng in Greek dancing.
Kassandra had never had so much fun in years.
Some time later, at almost midnight, for one of the men at the party had invited the tourists to stay and enjoy, James came up and offered to walk Kassandra home. She left with James, her arm entwined in his. They reached her hotel some time later, and he stopped to say good-bye.
“Call me sometime,” James said. “Here’s a napkin with my telephone and email. I would love to hear from you.” And he leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. “In fact, you can visit me any time in London. I have a nice big flat and no pets. You are welcome to come and stay a few days with me, or I can arrange a room in a hotel nearby. You look lovely tonight, Kassandra. Ooo—how marvelous! I have made the lady blush.” He laughed in good spirits. “I will say good-bye tonight, and unfortunately I do have to travel on tomorrow, but this doesn’t have to be the end for you and me.”
She accepted the napkin and put it into her purse before going up to her room.
“Good-night, James,” she said before leaving. “It was a wonderful evening.”
“Good-night, Kassandra. Yes, it was.”
Days of Winter Page 3