Page 45 of The Greek Café

‘He asks when,’ says a boy in a black T-shirt with a picture of a skateboarder on the front.

‘Ah I see.’

Gosh, I really must grasp the basics in Greek.

‘September hopefully,’ I tell him and he nods.

‘Septemvrios,’ he tells his friend.

‘Is it somewhere you would visit?’ I ask as they are about to ride off.

‘Yes, we like to play pool,’ says the boy in the black T-shirt, who seems to have a slightly better grasp of English than his friends.

‘I’m not sure it is big enough to accommodate a pool table,’ I tell him. ‘But who knows?’

There is a large outside area to the rear, with a covered canopy. Maybe it is possible to have a table out there? Perhaps something to think about.

He chats to his friend in Greek, and as they cycle off, I think of how polite they were. I am not sure I would feel as relaxed coming across a group of young boys back home, but maybe the media feeds that fear.

I walk on filled with positivity about the future. I hope to speak to Zeta later and talk about the bureaucratic hurdles I may have to face, but I feel assured that she will help me with that. Once more I feel blessed for my Irish passport, which means I am unaffected by Brexit. I will need a tax reference number and a couple of other legal things but thankfully little else. I also have Athena, who is a lawyer, so that might also come in useful.

The cicadas and birds serenade me as I walk the now familiar route towards the hotel, delighting me with every step. It surprises me how quickly this place is beginning to feel like home.

I am so tired, I flop onto my bed when I arrive back at my room. I bring up some photos of soft furnishings on my phone, and dream of how my bedroom will look in the apartment.

A shaft of warm sunlight is bathing the room, so I fling open my balcony door, and let a gentle late afternoon breeze drift in. It feels so warm and comfortable here that I can feel my eyes grow heavy.

I find myself dreaming of the caves, swimming in the gorgeous sea, and sitting on the deck of the boat sharing our food as the sun beats down. As my eyes grow heavy, I imagine Takis moving in for a kiss. I hug my pillow with a smile on my face. Just a few minutes here, then I will head downstairs for dinner.

I awake two hours later, and I am shocked to discover it is almost seven thirty. I stumble into a shower, and slather my skin with after-sun, before changing into a long white cotton dress and heading downstairs.

Summer and Kai are nowhere around, so I decide to take a walk down near the harbour and find a restaurant for dinner.

Seated at an outdoor table, at a café in a pretty square, I sip a glass of chilled wine and watch the boats at the harbour. An early evening cruise is returning, and a man holds the hand of his partner, as he guides her down the steps of a boat. The couple look elderly, and I can’t help wondering why some relationships can endure, whilst others don’t. Perhaps being a friend first is the sensible thing to do, rather than hoping there will be something to sustain the relationship, once the initial passion wanes a little. I have learned that much from any past relationships.

It must be lovely to meet that special person who you would be happy to grow old with though. Maybe one day that will happen for me, but for now I am content in my own company. And doing things I never thought I would do alone. Even though a certain Greek man has the ability to set my pulse racing.

I listen to some music, courtesy of a trio of musicians who have appeared in the restaurant, playing bouzoukis and singing in perfect harmony. My meal of chicken cooked in an ouzo sauce is beautifully served with giant home-made chips and a salad. I settle in, listening to the music and savouring the delicious food.

A ginger cat appears beneath my table, looking up at me with eyes full of hope.

‘Lucky, I have a little chicken left over,’ I tell it, and it miaows. ‘I’m not sure if you will like the ouzo flavour though.’

I wipe the piece of chicken with a napkin before tossing it onto the floor in front of the cat, who quickly gobbles it up.

‘Sorry,’ I say. ‘I have nothing left now. Unless you fancy a few lettuce leaves.’

The cat gives another miaow before moving on to the next table.

I pay my bill and decide to have a wander before I grab a taxi, when I hear someone call my name.

‘Erin, hello.’

It takes me a second to realise it is Phoebe, the young woman I met near the café the other day.

‘Phoebe, hi. It took me a second to recognise you, with your hair pinned up,’ I remark.

‘I have it like this for work. I have just finished my shift for the evening.’