Page 28 of The Greek Café

I imagine the villagers popping into my café, where I could serve village sausage and griddled halloumi served with local bread.

My day passes quickly, and in the evening, I assist at the bar as one of the staff has left suddenly to take up another job, much to the annoyance of Zeta. Her bartender friend is entertaining a group of women with his cocktail skills, who enjoy the show as they wait expectantly for their cocktails.

‘Sorry, I asked for a gin and tonic,’ says a bloke, staring at the drink I have placed down in front of him.

‘What? Oh, I’m sorry,’ I say, removing the pint of lager. He had ordered one earlier, so I guess I assumed. I have been distracted with thoughts of the café. Good job Zeta wasn’t watching.

The evening over, I call Mel. I want to get my best friend’s take on moving forwards with the café. I would miss her, of course, as she would me, although she has a busy and often chaotic household to take care of.

In a way, I am slightly nervous of telling her that I might settle here for a while. I know she enjoys our chats and she once told me it’s like therapy. I vent to her too, so it’s something I am sure we will both miss although we can continue with our video calls of course. All the same I feel an excitement in me that I haven’t felt about anything in a long time. And Greece is hardly the other side of the world.

I call her, as it’s a couple of hours earlier in the UK.

‘Erin. So lovely to see your face.’ Mel smiles back at me.

‘Yours too. Is this a good time?’

‘Couldn’t be better.’ She grins. ‘Mitch has taken both the kids to football practice.’

‘Extra peace for you then.’

‘Absolutely.’ She raises her coffee cup, and I spy the tell-tale signs of a chocolate bar wrapper on the coffee table.

‘So, how’s it going?’ she asks.

I tell her all about the guy on the beach who almost drowned, and my morning swims – and of course my morning walks.

‘Wow, sounds eventful.’

I take a deep breath. Here goes. ‘I also think I have found myself a little renovation project.’

‘Oooh really, you mean like a holiday home?’ she says excitedly.

‘Not quite. It’s a café, although it does have living accommodation upstairs,’ I tell her.

‘A café,’ she says, a surprised look crossing her face. ‘But who would run it for you when you were back home? Could you trust anyone?’ she says doubtfully.

‘I would run it,’ I say after a slight pause.

‘I don’t understand. Surely you are not thinking of staying in Greece?’

‘I am definitely considering it,’ I tell her. ‘I could run the café and go swimming every evening. The perfect scenario for me.’

‘Erin, are you serious?’ Her mouth falls open.

‘Oh, Mel, I know it sounds like a crazy idea, but I really think it could work.’

‘I don’t know what to say,’ says my friend, completely shocked. ‘You are thinking of buying a café in Greece. Wow?’

‘I hope you won’t hate me. I know how much you love our meet-ups; I love them too. But honestly, other than that, it’s not as if I have anything going on at home to rush back for.’

As I say it out loud, it confirms to me that I am serious about staying here.

‘Of course I don’t hate you,’ she says softly. ‘I mean, I would miss you, sure, but here we are proving that communication doesn’t need to stop.’ She smiles. ‘You must do what is right for you. I just hope there is enough room for a sofa bed somewhere, then I might be able escape for a few nights here and there.’

‘Of course!’ I tell her. ‘I would love that. Anyway, I must do the sums first. I am meeting a builder tomorrow who can hopefully give me a quote for the work.’

‘Oh, Erin, it is exciting. I haven’t seen you so fired up about something for a long time,’ she says supportively.