Page 50 of The Greek Café

‘Have fun,’ I say brightly.

‘I am sure I will not have as much fun as the day I went with you.’ He moves closer to me, and I feel that familiar flutter in my stomach.

His eyes meet mine and he is standing so close, I can smell his citrusy cologne. Is he flirting with me? And if so, why would he do that? Doesn’t he have a girlfriend?

‘It’s business, isn’t it?’ I say, matter-of-factly. ‘I’m sure you will give them the good service you pride yourself on.’

‘Right. Look, about yesterday, I just wanted to explain about Kato Petres Beach. I…’

‘Erin, can I borrow you a minute.’ Jack is calling me.

‘I have to go,’ I tell Takis. ‘Have a good day.’ I smile brightly.

‘You too. I guess I will see you around.’

‘I guess you will. Bye, Takis.’

Jack shows me a colour chart for the walls in the café, but I feel distracted. What was Takis going to say about the beach?

Eventually, I study the shades and after applying a few samples onto a white card, I settle on a white shade with a touch of green, that will feel like bringing a hint of the forest inside. A few plants dotted about, maybe a small olive tree in a pot in a corner, will set it all off.

If I close my eyes, I can see the café open for business. Local women will share gossip over a coffee and some cake. Tired walkers will stop off for refreshing drinks; maybe the older men will play dominoes at an outside table. I will do everything I can to bring the café back to life and maybe it will become the focus of the village once more.

I am about to head home, when I notice Ireta watching the building work with interest.

‘Ireta, hi. I was hoping I might bump into you today.’

‘Kalimera, Erin. It looks like it going well.’ She smiles.

‘I think so.’

She is carrying a basket of wildflowers in colours of purple, white and yellow, and she tells me they are for her neighbour.

‘She is sick,’ she explains. ‘I hope the flowers will make her smile.’

‘That’s a lovely thought, Ireta; I am sure they will.’

‘I will also make her a special tea. She has a bad cough.’ She theatrically demonstrates a noisy cough.

‘Oh dear. That’s not good. What do you use for the tea?’ I ask.

‘Thyme, ginger, peppermint and honey. Plants are medicine,’ she tells me.

‘I do believe that,’ I say. ‘Although I would not be without antibiotics for anything serious.’

‘Of course, if you are very sick,’ she agrees. ‘But if you drink tea made from plants every day, you will not get sick,’ she insists.

I suppose there is a lot I can learn from Ireta. Including what kind of things to serve in the café.

‘I may need some of your recipes when the café opens. If you don’t mind, of course. What did you serve? Was it mainly snacks?’

‘Snacks, yes. Hot santouits.’

‘Santouits?’

‘Yes, village sausage, fried halloumi cheese, sometimes pork, inside the bread.’

‘Oh, you mean a sandwich.’