‘So, who’s Nico to you?’
‘Oh god! My friend Maria decided it would be a fun idea to attempt to set me up with him. He couldn’t be more wrong for me.’ I held my hand to my face in memory of the whole night and looked at him through my fingers.
‘I think he likes you, you know.’ At last his face broke, he smiled over his drink. The first real expression since he had arrived.
‘I think he likes any woman with a pulse!’
‘You don’t know how beautiful you are, do you?’ I was taken aback by this comment. Maybe I didn’t, like most women I was highly self-critical; too thin, too fat never just right. He just came out with it too. His own honesty in a way most people don’t tell it, too guarded to release their feelings so readily.
‘I don’t know…’
‘You are the most alluring woman I’ve ever met. When I hit my head on you at the airport, you stunned me. Even with half your face covered. Gamoto,’ he said under his breath and rubbed his beard, ‘I haven’t stopped thinking about you from then to now. And you’re so clumsy! It makes me want to laugh at you and protect you, and even my daughter thinks you’re beautiful and kind…if a little strange… Unique.’ He wasn’t looking at me, as though ranting to himself, or perhaps his glass. He drank its contents and placed it onto the table. ‘I’ve got to go; I’d still like to know you more. Even if it must be as friends.’ I was still a little stunned myself, I managed to nod and I think I managed to say yes.
‘What’s your number?’ he asked. I took his phone, put my number in it and rang my phone to check it and, of course, so I had his.
‘There. Now you can find me when you like. I think you’re beautiful too you know. Inside and out.’ My words were bashful, stupid, cliché and paled in the shadow of his, but they were true. I was clutching my knees, still in my denim shorts from the day. He stood up and stretched a hand towards me to help me up. I took it and he pulled me towards him. He kissed me. He kissed me harder than before and held me tighter. I clutched the sleeve of his shirt in one hand and the back of his neck with the other, running my fingers across the bottom of his hair line. A delightful shudder ran down my spine. He released me, and our faces hovered an inch or so from each other. I had been stretching on my tiptoes. I let my feet fall back onto the ground. He looked me in the eyes as though he were searching for an answer, then gently leant forward and pressed his lips to mine once more. He started to walk towards the door.
‘Oh, by the way, Gaia asked me to tell you. She remembered who it was’ – and with that he left.
Needless to say, I couldn’t sleep. I remember thinking I may never sleep again. I sat up on the edge of the bed with the bedside lamp on. Venus was watching over me as I debated whether I should message him. No – I didn’t want to seem desperate. The problem with that was I’d never felt this way before. I almost did feel desperate. Just desperate to run my fingers along the hairs on his forearm and up toward the back of his neck again. When I was around him my body was on fire and my soul froze still. Everything was in a muddle, calm but magnetic, determined but lost. I wanted to tell Mama the whole stupid story. I needed to tell someone. I wandered down the stairs and sat at the breakfast bar looking across to where we had sat. I ran my fingers through my hair then pulled it tight. I got up again and walked out of the front door. The sea was gently crashing on the sand. I sat down on the edge of the beach, toes touching crunchy seaweed. I inhaled the coarse, salty tang deep to my lungs. I sent him a simple message:
Thinking of you.
It was true and I didn’t feel like playing games. After ten minutes with no response, I told myself he was likely asleep. It was almost midnight after all. With no one around but the night sky I got up, slipped off my nightie and walked into the sea. The cool waters made me shudder but it’s what I needed to take the edge off the heat he’d left me with. I laid back and looked up at the stars, floating on the waves. The sound of a car door slamming woke me out of my trance. I stood up in the water, it only came up to my waist so I sank into it. The car was outside my house, I could see the lights. Suddenly I could hear my phone ringing. I just stood in there in the water, unable to bring myself to move. In the peace of the night, I could hear footsteps cut through, crunching down the dirt path from the house to the seaweed. I could see his silhouette, instantly recognisable.
The thin moon shone brightly, as it so often does in a cloudless sky. He stood for a moment watching me. I was a little way out, it still wasn’t very deep where I was stood. He pulled his shirt over his head in one easy movement to reveal his firm torso in the dim light, his chest was covered in a light smattering of hair. In a second swift move he was naked too and walking towards me with the confidence of a man who had every reason to hold his head up high. I saw his body tighten as the waves crept up his thighs. I hadn’t made any intentional movements, I just bobbed about with my mouth agape. Occasionally the sea seemed to nudge me in his direction. I didn’t know what to think, one side of me wanted him to come over to me, hold me, take me. The other side was scandalised by the whole thing.
Neither of us said a word. He ran his wet fingers through my hair and across my jawline. He sunk into the water to meet my eyes, carefully pulling me close, still eye to eye. Our wet bodies pressed together. I tentatively put my hands to his solid collarbone, tracing a line with my fingers to make sure he was real. Still no words had been spoken, but so much had been said. He moved in and kissed me, slowly, his warm mouth breathing life and heat into my body. His hands ran once more down my back, this time finding their way across my curves to lift me up into a delightful embrace. Weightless in the hands of the sea. My fingers were running lines though his hair, my arms were about his neck. Before our souls decided to dissolve further into the sea, he spoke.
‘You’re freezing,’ he said, wrapping his arms firmly around me, holding our slippery bodies tightly together. ‘We should go indoors.’ I nodded but still couldn’t find words to say. I slid from his torso like silk on silk before we walked hand in hand towards the house, collecting our clothes on the way.
I leapt upstairs to grab some towels from the cupboard. Pausing to look in the mirror and mouth “what on earth” at myself before running back down the creaky wooden stairs.
‘Here you go, here you go, here you go!’ I chanted as I threw the towel at him. My jaw was clenched and my arms were covered in goosebumps as the air conditioning came back on. Anton had been suddenly shy. He was holding himself, as though he were in a line-up in front of a football goal. He, of course, had to let go to catch the towel. I watched him as he wrapped it about his waist. ‘I have to say, I am pretty surprised to see you back here so soon,’ I said, as I sat down in the middle of the stairs.
‘It wasn’t exactly planned. I got your message and, I don’t know…’ He started to walk towards the sofa and sat down. I got up again and eagerly followed. ‘I just got in my van and here I am. I should probably go.’
‘No, stay!’ I quickly laid my head on his lap and put my feet up on the arm of the sofa. I was looking up at him smiling and he returned my content expression with his own. He started to stroke my matted hair.
‘What is it about you?’ His voice soft and low. More like what was it about him. His fingers traced the outline of my face and down my neck. He could probably feel the speed of my pulse.
‘Would you like a coffee?’
We sat in our towels clutching our matching white coffee cups. He was still on the sofa and I parked myself on the floor the other side of the coffee table, looking up at him.
‘Gaia is beautiful. She’s determined I look like someone she knows.’
‘I can’t imagine there’s two as striking as you.’ I lifted an eyebrow at him over my cup.
‘Really?’
‘You own a mirror, yes?’ He sent his eyebrows wiggling right back at me.
‘Well, I’m glad you think so. I’m very intrigued a
s to who apparently looks like me though.’
‘You’ll have to ask her when you see her.’
My heart squeezed. What was this and where was it going? I would stay until my later flight but that was still only around two weeks away. Perhaps it was not the time to over think, or worry about the future. If the pandemic had taught me one small thing, it was that life can change at a moment’s notice, or with no notice at all.
‘I shall, if I’m allowed to spend time with her?’
‘It’s funny, ten years since I lost my wife and I’ve only dated two women in that time. Gaia didn’t know about either of them. I have worried it would hurt her. But she was pleased I was moving on. We spoke a lot this afternoon, when you left.’
‘I bet she thought I was insane running away from her like that. I just panicked. I didn’t want you thinking I was some bunny boiler talking to your daughter.’
‘She was confused but then just thought it was really funny. She told me about the soap too.’ He leant his elbows on his knees and gave a low laugh.
‘Well, I’m glad I’m a source of entertainment for you both.’ He was still chuckling to himself as he put his mug down.
‘I don’t know where this is going. I know you live in England. But is it okay if we don’t think about that? You’re the only woman I’ve opened up to in ten years. I can’t explain why that might be but I’m not willing to just ignore it.’
He got up and placed himself on the floor next to me. Long legs outstretched and resting on one muscular arm. The coffee table sat in the corner of a large navy blue, bobbly rug that he had placed himself on. I turned and instinctively kissed him. We slid down to lie next to each other in a warm embrace. It was very late and I fell asleep in the comfort of his warm arms. I had never felt more safe, and less alone, in my life.
I woke up with a start as Anton sat bolt upright.
‘Gamoto!’ He jumped up from our pile of white towels. ‘What time is it?’ He continued his rampage in Greek. While nearly falling over to put his pants and shorts on. I groped around to find my phone.
‘It’s 9.34.’ He didn’t answer me he just grabbed at his things. ‘Ant… Ant… Ant… ANTON!’ He stopped and actually looked at me. ‘Your shirt is inside out.’ He looked down bewildered and burst into laughter rubbing his face.
‘Efcharistó,’ he came back to me, knelt down and kissed me. ‘Tonight? Beachcombers? Eight? Do you want me to pick you up?’ He was moving towards the door.
‘Yes please!’ I called after him, and with a smile of beautifully straight teeth, he was gone. Like a dream or a distant memory. I lay back on the floor holding our towels. They were still warm from our sleeping coil and smelt of him. I couldn’t define the smell, it was unique, masculine, mixed with the fresh salt of the sea. I was staring at the ceiling for over an hour, recalling each moment I had been with him. A place somewhere between sleep and awake. Pondering how he was confident and strong and gentle and unsure. I conjured his face in my mind’s eye. Last night he had a scruffy beard and the hair on the very top of his head was all messy. It was endearing. I drew the lines of his warm eyes, tiny wrinkles at the corners, mostly when he smiled. His strong facial bones dulled down by his beard. To his wide strong shoulders and beautifully toned torso. Not overworked and with a trail of hair drawing the eye down. I remembered the feel of his…my phone started to buzz. It was Anton:
Sorry I had to rush away, work. Gave Gaia your number. See you tonight.
I wondered why. It was nice that he trusted me though. The day went quicker than I’d expected, mostly absorbed in trying on every item of clothing as I unpacked my bag again. None of my underwear was overly attractive but luckily it was all just plain. I hadn’t expected to have the requirement to worry about such things while I was in Corfu. In the end I went simple all over. A dress. It was the colour of his eyes and covered in large white spots. It had spaghetti straps with a straight neckline to it. A little white belt pulled at my waist and the fabric melted around my hips, short, but not too short. More that it was short because I was tall, not because it was designed that way. It was just enough to show off my long, tanned legs without the worry of embarrassment. I wore my squeaky stilettos and hoped that with different acoustics and flooring it wouldn’t be such an issue. They were white and pointed. I hadn’t worn them all that much before but they were my “lucky” shoes. Mama and I were shopping in Cambridge, looking for something to wear to a wedding reception. We found the white shoes but we weren’t at all sure about them at first. In the end they were all that looked good with the monochrome dress I’d picked out for the occasion. I found my last boyfriend at that wedding. I also wore them to meet an important Instagram client and to teach a seminar called “You and Your Social’s Life”, which gained me a lot of momentum in my career. Mama was the one who started to call them my lucky shoes. I couldn’t not wear them, even if they didn’t feel very nice on my poor toe, the discomfort was worth it. I was hoping not to choke or fall into anything for a change.
I looked into the full-length mirror on the landing. I’m sure Mama and Papa would approve, not only of my outfit, but also of Anton. They had always loved Greek people. The holiday appeal was not just the clear seas and delicious food – the people made it special. I could feel my eyes tingle and my nose wanted to run. I crunched my dress in my fists and hopped from foot to foot. It was no good, I had to tilt my head back and frantically wave my hands next to my face. Then limbo my way to the bathroom in a dance to try not to let tears fall out of my eyes and ruin my make-up.
I wasn’t improving my nervous energy by getting emotional. After carefully using a piece of toilet tissue in the corners of my eyes, I decided to distract myself with a jewellery change. From small earring studs, to chunky white hoops and a matching bracelet. Just playful enough to keep my mind from wondering back in their direction.
He arrived just after seven, this time in a yellow Ford Mustang convertible.
‘Gaia chose it,’ he said. Hands up as though by opening my mouth I were holding a gun filled with words, I got in; it was flashy for him, unexpected. ‘I couldn’t decide and I needed something to drive her around in when I didn’t want to use the van. So, she chose this. It meant more to her than me.’ He shrugged as he closed my door and walked around to get in.
‘You’re a fantastic father.’
‘I love her. That’s all I know. What’s money for? Hmm?’ It was hard to talk during the journey with the top down. But it was delightful through the beauty of green Corfu. Olive trees rushing past us. He took my hand as he drove and I felt like I was taking on the power of the spinning Earth into my bones.
When we arrived at Beachcombers we were directed to the left. This was the corner with the enviable, uninterrupted view of the sunset. It was breath-taking, filling the sea and the sky with rich reds and vibrant orange. I had been there dozens of times before, it was one of many favourites. I’d watched the sunset countless times and from countless angles. With him it was different, it felt different. The sun was casting its enchanting glow on everything it touched. It touched Anton, it touched me. He had sat next to me, not opposite, giving us both the fantastic views, although little elbow room. It blazed across his eyes as he looked out to sea. My breath caught in my chest as champagne and olives arrived at our table.
‘What’s all this?’ I said looking between the waitress and Anton.
‘I want to do this right. It’s our first date. I want to show you how appealing life is.’ He was calm, serious, his eyes didn’t leave mine as he passed me my glass and made his toast. ‘To beauty in everything. Life-changing moments, and loud shoes.’ He made me smile at every turn. The champagne was perfectly cold against the warm sunset and the inferno in my chest.
‘I may have a small agenda…’ He raised an eyebrow as he carefully found a place for his glass on the little wooden table. ‘Gaia wanted to meet us for drinks after our meal, would
that be okay? I dropped her off with her friends again. I can text her and let her know if not?’
‘Of course! It’d be nice to see her.’ Things were moving at a pace that made my head tumble like a dryer. This could at best be counted as a third date even though it was our first official one. It just so happened we had already innocently spent the night together naked. I watched him over my menu as I tried to choose between pork chops or curry. He had trimmed his beard back to neat stubble that he gently scratched as he eyed his menu. The waitress came and went with our order as we made our way through the bittersweet flesh of the olives and sipped at our champagne.
‘You fell asleep quickly last night.’ He smiled at me as he tried to make himself comfortable in his chair. I was sat with my knees away from him to give his long hairy legs room under the table. Unfortunately, he made the chair look like one you might find in a primary school. Watching him made me shuffle around in my chair too.
‘I did. Other than being extremely comfortable in your arms, I think we were perhaps going a little quickly and the emotion of it all tired me out.’ Straightaway I could see him hiding a laugh, his belly moving under his mint green shirt. ‘Are you laughing at me?’
‘Maybe. In a nice way of course… It’s only, if “emotion” tired you out…’ His voice trailed off into his drink so all I could see were his jokey jiggling brows, then his shoulders joined in with his belly in their jostle. The tips of my ears felt hot at his silly suggestion.
‘Shut up…you arse, you know what I mean.’ I rolled my eyes playfully then finished the contents of my glass, as he let his laughter erupt through his chest and out of his mouth. I just kept giving him a sideways look, desperately trying not to join in with his hilarity. I couldn’t really understand how he could find a laugh in absolutely nothing. But I liked it.
‘Sorry, sorry.’ He wiped a tear from his eye. ‘I’m immature and you are beautiful. Ah! Saved by the food!’ The waitress carefully placed our plates down, bringing with her the aromatic spices of Anton’s fish curry. Its creamy golden texture made me a little envious, I was tempted to ask if I could try some.
The Little Blue Door Page 7