Page 65 of The Greek Café

‘As long as you remind your wife that she is also your passion,’ I advise. ‘When was the last time you took her out for a romantic dinner?’

He ponders the question.

‘Her birthday, which was four months ago.’ He scratches his chin. ‘Maybe I ought to do just that. Or treat her to something nice. She deserves a medal for putting up with me. Have you ever thought of becoming a marriage counsellor?’

I haven’t exactly been lucky in love, so I am hardly an expert on such matters, I think to myself.

‘No. I just think people need a little reminder of what is important to them from time to time. We are all guilty of forgetting that.’

‘Well, thanks for the reminder, love. As it happens it is our anniversary next month – I will look for somewhere special. And we might just pop in here for lunch one day.’

From the corner of my eye, I see Ireta greet a few of the locals who are congregated near the skip watching with interest. I watch her make her way towards us, pleased I didn’t miss her.

‘The sign looks wonderful,’ she says as she looks up and slowly nods her head. ‘A new beginning.’

A teenage boy I recognise from the village, rides over on his bike and smiles, before asking Ireta a question.

She directs him to me. ‘Why don’t you ask the owner?’

‘Your English is better.’ He shrugs.

‘This is Kostas. He wants to know if there will be anything for the people,’ Ireta tells me.

‘Yes, he mentioned a pool table outside, but I don’t think that would work, as it will be my garden. I do understand them wanting a place to hang out though; I have been thinking about that.’

I tell Ireta of my thinking about a special evening once a week, where I could sell milkshakes, burgers and pancakes in the style of a diner, maybe have some live music.

‘In fact, I might ask if there is any local talent to perform,’ I tell her. ‘Have a kind of open mic night.’

‘What is open mic night?’

‘It is when amateurs perform at a bar or café. They are quite popular back home,’ I explain.

‘Hmm, maybe. It might inspire them to stay here in the village. At least for a while longer. When the village children grow older, they move away,’ she explains. ‘Then it is full of older people. The young think it is boring here.’

‘I don’t suppose you fully appreciate things when you are young.’

‘That is true. Many of them go to the large towns and cities for work. When they are older, sometimes they return. I suppose we were all young once with our dreams,’ she says wistfully.

Ireta relays the information to the boy about a possible music evening and his eyes light up.

‘Nai. Kithara. I play.’ He plays air guitar to demonstrate his point.

‘He thinks it’s a great idea. He plays guitar,’ she reinforces, a little unnecessarily.

‘Then it is something I will seriously consider if there is a demand.’

My town back home has nothing much for teenagers – apart from the swimming pool, which will probably end up closing down. Most of them won’t be able to afford the prices of the swanky new leisure centre. Hardly surprising that kids disappear to more exciting towns with more facilities.

It occurs to me then that lots of local people could benefit from the re-opening of the café. Especially Ireta, who seems to have a new found spring in her step, And the enthusiasm in the voice of the young man tells me he is hopeful the café will be somewhere to visit once more.

I feel a sudden rolling of nerves in my stomach. Up until now, I have had the security of a paid job and live-in accommodation. Soon enough, I will be going it alone and wonder if I am doing the right thing?

I have a moment of panic. Yes, I will have help from Phoebe if I need it, and of course Zeta, but ultimately, I am going this alone. I feel my heart rate increase, as a feeling of uncertainty washes over me. My palms feel a little sticky and I can feel my breathing becoming faster. Is this a ridiculous idea?

I breathe deeply and hold it, releasing the breath slowly as I recall the instructions on my relaxation tape. Inhale, hold breath for a count of four. Exhale.

‘Are you okay?’ Ireta frowns. ‘You look a little pale.’