Page 57 of The Greek Café

‘Her pain is under control,’ he assures me. ‘She was standing on a chair, getting something from a top cupboard in the kitchen. She took a bit of a tumble.’

‘A chair. Doesn’t she have a small stepladder?’

‘In the garage apparently. Good job I arrived when I did,’ says Douglas. ‘When she never answered the door, I looked through the kitchen window, and there she was, on the floor. Luckily it had only just happened.’

I try not to think of her lying there in agony and trying to drag herself to a phone.

‘Anyway. I’ll put her on in a minute. I’ve just been for a coffee. I’m waiting for her to come out of X-ray.’

Reality hits me hard as I realise my mum, despite her adventurous outlook, is getting on in years. Is this really the right time for me to think about starting a new life in Greece? Especially as I am an only child? It isn’t like nipping half a mile across town to check on her if anything happens. Maybe Douglas ought to have a key to the house.

‘Oh, she is here now, love, I’ll put you on the camera,’ he says.

‘Mum, hi, how are you?’ I ask, concerned. She is sitting in a wheelchair, although I am relieved to see that she looks quite well and has colour in her cheeks.

‘I’m alright now that the painkillers have kicked in.’ She smiles. ‘I have just come out of X-ray and thankfully my ankle isn’t broken, just badly sprained and blown up like a balloon. The doctor said I must have strong bones. It must be all the milk I drank as a child.’ She manages another smile. ‘Still do actually.’

‘Oh, Mum, thank goodness you’re okay.’ I breathe a sigh of relief. ‘Although you will have to take things easy for a while.’

I am surprised that she agrees. ‘I know, love, maybe it is a gentle reminder to slow down a little. I shan’t be climbing on chairs again. Don’t worry,’ she assures me. ‘To think I’ve done all kinds of adventurous things lately, and I go and injure myself falling off a chair.’

She asks me all about how things are going here in Greece and tells me she will come for that visit in early October, assuming her ankle is all better.

‘Maybe a gentle holiday would be in order, and I promise no jet skiing.’ She grins.

‘Oh, Mum, that would be lovely. Let me know the exact dates and I will look into booking the hotel. In the meantime, are you going to be okay?’

‘Of course I will. Douglas has said he will stay over for a while until I am fully on my feet.’

‘That’s good. Thanks, Douglas,’ I say and he raises his coffee cup.

‘Not a problem.’

I feel reassured by his presence.

‘Really, don’t you worry about me,’ Mum says firmly. ‘I am made of strong stuff; even the doctor said so. I am proud of you setting off on a new adventure and I’m enjoying the photo updates of the café,’ she says. ‘Live your life; it goes by far too quickly. That is something I can say with certainty.’

I feel comforted hearing Douglas will be staying over and looking after Mum. Her comments soothe me, yet I still can’t shake a feeling of guilt that I am all the way over here when she needs me most.

THIRTY

‘I am going to miss you.’

The past few weeks have rolled around in the blink of an eye, and suddenly the time has arrived for us to say goodbye to Summer.

Summer almost squeezes the life out of me as she hugs me tightly.

‘Oh, I will miss you too,’ she says, wiping tears from her eyes. ‘All of you. I could not have asked for better people to work with.’

We are gathered in the breakfast room early, before we head to our respective posts. Summer has been presented with a pretty overnight bag containing toiletries and a Cinderella travel mug.

‘Fitting for a soon-to-be Disney princess,’ I tell Summer.

‘It’s perfect,’ says Summer, hugging me once more.

I bought a cake from a local bakery and asked the chef in the hotel kitchen to decorate it with the words Bon Voyage, complete with a lit candle on the top. Cue more tears from Summer.

When she finally departs, I walk away with Kai towards the pool area.