Under a Greek Spell

by Simone Hubbard

  The plane’s engines suddenly roar into life and there’s an almighty feeling of power beneath us as we’re pulled slightly backwards by the force. The plane accelerates down the runway, gathering speed and momentum, and then, moments later, we leave the ground.

  My head is all over the place and I’m completely disorientated. ‘Helen, what the hell is happening?’ I shriek.

  ‘Here, you silly moo, put on your bloody glasses. We’re just taking off. It’s grey because we’re still in Manchester.’ She finds my state of confusion very amusing. She can’t stop sniggering.

  ‘So I’ve only been asleep for a few minutes? I was having a bloody awful dream about Richard.’

  ‘Well, actually, we’ve been waiting for a second take-off slot for an hour. One of the passengers didn’t board and they had to offload their luggage – just like I predicted! And, by the way, you’ve been snoring. It was very embarrassing.’ She shakes her head disapprovingly.

  ‘Ooh err, sorreee! Not that you snore, of course.’

  ‘Not like that,’ she retorts, all high and mighty.

  ‘Well, I’ll be the judge of that when we get to the hotel. Oh, and thanks for asking about my dream! Don’t worry about me!’

  ‘I’m sorry, Steph. What happened in the dream?’

  ‘Oh, Richard was being a prat. He walked away from me and a baby. It’s probably my brain telling me to get the hint. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about Richard. I need a rest from the subject. What’s our ETA now?’

  ‘About six, their time. I reckon we’ll be at the hotel at about seven thirty – not too bad considering we’ve been up since six. Think I’ll have a nap myself when I’ve gone through this work with you.’

  ‘I need to eat something first, Helen, I’m starving.’

  ‘Flipping heck, Steph, you just ate at the airport.’

  ‘That was after we checked in three hours ago. You know what I’m like if my blood sugar levels start dipping.’

  ‘Oh yes, I know. We don’t want a Steph-style blood sugar dip at forty thousand feet. Let’s swap places so I can have a snooze while you have something to eat. Wake me up to discuss this pile of rubbish … sorry, I mean work.’

  I don’t need to ask if Helen’s eating. She seems to exist on thin air. I wish my appetite were like hers, i.e. non-existent. We swap over and Helen sets out her stall with a neck cushion, eye mask and earplugs. Bless her, she’s got everything in that bag of hers.

  I notice that Healthy, which I’d popped into my seat pocket for a bit of light reading, has found its way into Helen’s seat pocket. It’s open at ‘Twenty things every woman should achieve before she’s forty’. I’m thirty-one and Helen’s thirty-three and I don’t think either of us could lay claim to more than five of them. But we’ve got a few years to chip away at them, after all.

  Most are pretty boring, but Number 2 is quite interesting: ‘Have hot sex with someone you work with or someone unsuitably young; the embarrassment should (hopefully) ensure you will never do it again.’ Well, just the thought of having sex with anyone fills me with horror at the moment. In fact, the whole dating scene has put me off for life. My friend Debbie persuaded me to join an online dating website a few weeks ago. I’ve already bailed out of two dates by feigning a migraine before I fell asleep with boredom. I’m cancelling my membership as soon as I can. I’ve had enough of daily recommendations and ridiculous profiles. Yesterday it was Shabi69 from Jerusalem who doesn’t have a profession so he needs a woman with whom he can live. Well, Shabi, that woman won’t be me. I’ve also had enough of Bob who sends me a message every day asking to meet up. I was put off by the numerous tattoos in his profile photo. I don’t mind the odd tasteful tattoo, but Bob is clearly hooked.

  I could make a start with Number 1: ‘Dye your hair every conceivable colour – red, black, blonde, pink.’ Okay, forget that idea, I can just picture the look on the store manager’s face if I turn up with pink hair.

  Helen can claim to have travelled the world, which is the first half of Number 18. But then it goes on to say ‘… and settle in your favourite place.’ I’m not sure she’ll ever settle down. She’s a career woman through and through, married to the job. She threw herself into her work after her best friend died. I think that’s why she subconsciously chooses boyfriends who don’t want commitment. That suits her because she’s scared of getting close to someone and then losing them.

  Thank goodness, the trolley’s finally appeared. I get Helen a tapas selection, which is right up her street, with various nibbles to pick at just in case she does finally get peckish. I, on the other hand, have chosen the largest offering on the menu – the bacon ciabatta. I pay the flight attendant with a note and she says she’ll have to come back later with my change. Yeah, right, heard that one before. But I’m too hungry to start hunting in my purse for change.

  The bacon ciabatta goes down a treat with an aptly named cocktail – On the Beach. It’s sadly minus the sex, along with the fancy umbrella and glacé cherry, but, surprisingly, it tastes okay. I’m just about to wake Helen to pass her a can of Mojito when I come across the film Shirley Valentine on the in-flight movie channel. It brings back bittersweet memories. My friends from work bought me the DVD as a joke when I got married. In the accompanying card, they’d written, ‘To the new Mrs Valentine – don’t morph into Shirley! lol xx’

  Flipping heck, I didn’t even make it to unhappily married middle-age. Richard, on the other hand, was already refusing to go on what he called the ‘fancy’ holidays that Helen found for us. He also looked forward to his steak night just like Joe in the film. Admittedly Richard was a bit more adventurous washing his steak down with a glass of red wine unlike Joe who preferred a can of beer. Oh yes, I remember this bit – Shirley talking to the wall. At least I’m not doing that … yet.

  ‘Stephanieee, wake up! They’re getting ready for landing! You were meant to be waking me up to go through this lot, remember?’ Helen waves her file at me.

  ‘Oops. I must have dozed off. I was watching Shirley Valentine.’ I look at the screen. The film seems to have been replaced with information about the time and how many feet we’re at. So useful to know. ‘Anyway,’ I retort, ‘you’ve been asleep for the whole journey.’

  ‘That’s not the point. I left you awake and in charge of waking me up when you’d eaten. Now we’ll have to go through this lot after dinner.’

  ‘Okay, whatever,’ I huff.

  Just what I need, a stroppy sister. She can be a right pain in the neck at times. She’ll be in strop for at least an hour. She was just the same when we were growing up. If something just slightly upset Helen’s little world, we all knew about it. She’d win a slamming doors competition hands down. Good job she’s belted into her seat by the window or who knows what door she’d take out her strop on.

  The plane descends quickly, the seat belt signs are on and our flight attendant has done her final checks, which include handing over my change. She sits down and belts herself in next to her rather dishy colleague, who must have been at the back of the plane all this time. Now, if he’d been up at this end, I would definitely not have dozed off. He’s the second dishy guy I’ve noticed recently. Maybe my senses are awakening, like I’m coming out of hibernation or something.

  The lights in the cabin have been dimmed and my ears are popping like mad. Long gone are the days when they handed out a sweet to suck. I can just about make out the sea below us if I crane past Helen.

  The plane touches down reasonably smoothly and slows quickly. As it taxis down the runway, there’s a spontaneous round of applause, and, you know what, I join in. It’s worth it just to see Helen roll her eyes and shake her head.

  ‘Well, for all we know, the pilot might have manoeuvred us through a storm,’ I say.

  Helen’s not rising to the bait. She’s busy putting her travel accessories away and inspecting her tapas meal and Mojito in a
can. As for me, I’m happy that I’m here and looking forward to some relaxation, lots of good food and plenty to drink.

  The captain comes on the speaker. ‘Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to Mykonos, where the local time is 6.15 p.m. and the temperature is a pleasant twenty degrees Celsius. I’d like to thank you for travelling with us today. Once again, I apologise for the delays and the unexpected air pocket that we hit and I wish you a pleasant stay on the beautiful island of Mykonos.’

  I can’t resist a sneaky look at Helen, who seems to be avoiding eye contact with me for some strange reason.

  Chapter 7

  Helen

  I wake early after a reasonable night’s sleep – well, as good a sleep as you can get sharing a bed with a maniac sister. I was in a deep sleep when she whacked me and scared me to death by shouting out ‘Stop!’ and something about a roller coaster. I made it quite clear to the manager last night that the beds were to be sorted out today. My booking request definitely said a twin room.

  I’m not one for lying about in bed and I’ve got a busy schedule, so I get up and make my way to the rather plush bathroom. We have a feature washbasin each that looks like a carved-out rock; each of them has streamlined chrome taps. There’s a freestanding bath and a large shower cubicle that is nearly as big as my bathroom at home. I opt for a quick shower, using the hotel’s complimentary Wild Olive accessories. They’re apparently a locally sourced brand, which is really commendable.

  I find my new dress relatively uncreased at the top of my suitcase and pop it on. I’ll have to unpack the rest later.

  Steph still hasn’t stirred so I make her a cup of tea and deposit it by her bed. I tell her that I’m going for breakfast and that I’ll see her later. I think she heard me but I can’t really be sure if her grunt is for me or not.

  I make my way to the buffet restaurant for breakfast. I’m greeted promptly and politely by Elena. She asks me whether I’d like to eat inside or outside. I request a table inside. When I’m working, I try and stay as cool as possible and avoid the sun and heat at all costs. It just makes me feel tired and uncomfortable.

  The waitress, Katerina, takes my drink order and I make my way to the food on the buffet table. I pile lots of different fruits on to my plate and add a blob of zero-fat yogurt for good measure. I get back to the table and my pot of tea is waiting. It’s no wonder James enjoys coming here – the views of the Aegean Sea are amazing from this restaurant, and the hotel itself, apart from the bed mix-up, is spot on.

  I’ve just started checking my itinerary for the day when an email pings on my phone.

  Helen,

  Please can you go to the Royal Blue Hotel sometime today and ask why the pool bar isn’t open? Guests are complaining – quite rightly so – about it. They’re getting told it’s too early in the season and this is NOT ACCEPTABLE. I’ve emailed the hotel already telling them to expect a visit. The manager is Selena Lexou.

  Also, two more bad reviews for the Mykonos Gold.

  Regards,

  Daniel

  Managing Director

  Loving Luxury Travel

  For goodness sake, doesn’t he ever sleep? It’s only seven in the morning at home and he’s already at it. I haven’t even had any breakfast yet. Bloody typical. I quickly reply.

  Hi Daniel,

  I’ll make the Royal Blue my first visit as it’s just down the road and I’ll visit the Mykonos Gold this afternoon to assess the situation from a customer’s point of view.

  Regards,

  Helen

  Manager

  Loving Luxury Travel

  I finish my delicious breakfast and close my laptop. Elena wishes me a pleasant day as I leave the restaurant. Hopefully she’ll be as pleasant to Steph and get lots of ticks in the ‘met expectations’ section. Poor Steph, I don’t think she appreciated me going through the questionnaire and accompanying paraphernalia last night. Her default response of ‘What a load of shit,’ was repeated on several occasions. She didn’t even notice a rather dishy waiter who I could have sworn was looking in our direction most of the night.

  My heels click-clack on the highly glossed marble floor as I leave the hotel. The porter asks if I need a taxi. I have to reluctantly reply that I don’t. Not even I can take a taxi to a hotel just down the road, although walking there isn’t going to be the easiest task in these heels.

  I walk as gracefully as I can, wobbling and cursing all the way to the Royal Blue Hotel. The automatic doors open and my fun day begins. I click-clack across another marble floor and approach the reception.

  Eventually, a girl glances up and raises half a smile. ‘How can I help?’ she asks in a reasonably pleasant manner.

  I look at her name badge. ‘Good morning, Elysse.’ I use her name deliberately because I know that will immediately put her on her guard. Half smiles and eventually looking up to acknowledge a waiting customer are not going to win any awards in my book. She would definitely have heard my heels approaching over this floor. ‘I have a meeting with Selena Lexou.’ I hand over one of my business cards.

  I can see that she immediately recognises our company logo. ‘Please take a seat. I will let her know you are here,’ she replies a lot more enthusiastically. She even manages a full smile, which means the muscles of her mouth are fully functional.

  While I wait, I observe the staff. Elysse has already tipped off as many of her colleagues as she can about my arrival and everyone suddenly seems busy. My phone pinged with a text alert on the way here; so as there’s no immediate sign of Selena I have a quick look at it. Oh, very interesting. It’s from James.

  Hi sorry for not

  telling you about Florida

  or replying sooner. Spot of

  bother with my phone. Hope

  you’re not too mad about

  going to Mykonos but Daniel

  insisted on me coming to

  Florida as I had a visa.

  If you visit the Royal Blue:

  the manager is a bit

  high-maintenance. xx

  ‘Spot of bother with my phone’, my arse. I’m just about to send a reply when a woman heads my way. She’s quite tall, especially in her heels, with dark hair in a neat bun. She’s very slim. I reckon she’s a similar age to me.

  ‘Kalimera. I am Selena,’ she says, extending her perfectly French-manicured hand for a firm handshake and smiling to reveal whitened teeth.

  ‘Good morning. I’m Helen Collins. You should have received an email from our office regarding my visit.’

  ‘Indeed I have, although I assumed it would be James whom I’d be meeting. Is he following on behind?’

  ‘No, he’s gone to our office in Florida to get our new villa rentals up and running,’ I reply in a calm and matter-of-fact way. I don’t want to have an emotional breakdown so early in the day, especially after that text. ‘High maintenance’ – I bet she bloody well is!

  ‘Oh, I see, he never mentioned it,’ she replies in a slightly less confident voice.

  And why would she expect him to mention it? I manage to keep my composure. ‘Well, it was a last-minute thing, which is why I’m here.’ I’m not sure she actually registers my reply. ‘In fact, he’s just sent me text, which is most strange because it must be three in the morning in Florida. Maybe he’s got jet lag and can’t sleep.’ I wonder if he’s been panicking since I told him I’ve been sent to Mykonos instead of him. That would explain the warning about Selena being high maintenance. He’s covering his own back, no doubt.

  ‘How can I help, then?’ she asks. I could be wrong but I’m sure her eyes are watering.

  ‘I’ll tell you what, why don’t you give me a grand tour of the hotel and then we’ll have a chat over coffee in the restaurant?’ I feel like I could do with something a bit stronger but it’s a bit early yet to hit the cocktails.

 
She leads the way and I seize the opportunity to get some background information. ‘So, Selena, how long have you been the manager here?’

  ‘I was promoted eight months ago. Our previous manager moved to another hotel, which created the opportunity for me here. James came out to help with the interviews. I was offered the job and was delighted to take it. James was very…’

  Selena is obviously struggling to find the words for ‘Very good at two-timing his English girlfriend’ so I offer up ‘Supportive’.

  ‘Yes, supportive, and he is always available if I have any issues – work-related, of course,’ she adds quickly.

  Everything appears to be running smoothly and Selena is acknowledging the guests as we walk along, which is at least a good sign.

  ‘Now, the main reason I’m here, Selena, is to find out why the pool bar isn’t open at night. We’ve had reports back from customers saying they’ve been told it’s too early in the season.’

  ‘I spoke to James about this last week. I explained that there are hardly any guests using that particular bar and he suggested just opening the lobby bar until the end of May to save on staff costs. So this is what I have done.’

  We come to a halt.

  ‘James isn’t authorised to make that kind of decision. He should have referred the matter to our managing director, Daniel.’

  ‘I think you’ll find that James did speak with Daniel and was told to use his … er, sorry, I cannot think of the English word.’

  There’s a word that springs to mind, but I’ll give Daniel the benefit of the doubt. ‘Initiative?’

  ‘That is the exact word, but I cannot pronounce it. So James used his…’ Selena prompts me for the word.

  ‘Initiative.’

  ‘… like he did many times on hotel visits.’