start, food was running low which meant a trip into Taxos. Talking of which, how on earth would I flavour the scones? Not that much beat a plain, well-risen one with melting butter on top, but I had a bit of a reputation to uphold with the Sotiropoulos family, particularly Grandma.
My gaze fell upon a large bar of chocolate on the low wooden table, in the middle of the lounge. Henrik had bought it at the airport. He liked it dark. Surely he wouldn’t mind me using a little if I replaced it at the local supermarket? I gazed out of the patio windows and for the first time really studied the plants, especially a wide, roundish tree with emerald leaves and what looked like bulbous orangey-red peaches… Of course – apricots! The last fruits of the season hung in August and we used to gorge on them for breakfast when I was a child. Chocolate chip and apricot scones would be a perfect combination of bitter and sweet flavours. I slipped into my flip-flops and drew back the patio doors.
As I walked onto the paving stones, the tolerable morning sun kissed my cheeks. I still winced as Saturday’s sunburn had not quite turned brown. Cicadas chirped and I inhaled salty sea air. Bliss – a heavenly change from the stuffy smell of the London underground.
I tucked strands of unbrushed hair behind my ears, only for the breeze to release them once more. On reaching the apricot tree, I plucked off tiger-orange fruits, clearly bursting with juice. In fact several lay open on the ground, providing flies with a sumptuous brunch. I bit into one and a wet trickle ran down my chin. Annoying… Why did that remind me of Niko’s juice-smeared mouth as he’d devoured half a fig?
Back indoors, I cracked on with the culinary task in hand. Ah, that was better, me kneading the scone dough, up and down, then around and around…. How pretty it looked with flecks of hard brown and squishy orange. Aaahhh… slowly my shoulders and brow relaxed and confused thoughts swapped places with happy images in my mind, such as a gently-breaking tide or colourful Greek salad.
I couldn’t wait to see Grandma again. How she would loves these scones. Please let her get better… My vision blurred for a second. It was strange to think of the hardworking, no-nonsense Iris bed-ridden with people looking after her for a change.
‘So, when are you going to replace my chocolate?’ said Henrik, as we strolled into Taxos that evening, just before eight. The road was difficult to make out, due to the sunset. Like movie actors teasing paparazzi, stars glinted, now and again, in the sapphire sky. I breathed in cedar wood smells from the nearby forest.
He glanced down. I looked up. As he squeezed my fingers through the twilight, we both grinned. With the other hand I carried a basket, containing the scones with a tea-towel over the top. I felt like one of those American Stepford wives you see in TV series, who always welcome new neighbours with homemade delights. Or like Red Riding Hood in the woods, except without the cape.
‘Although I guess I can write off the debt, seeing as you’re such a hero,’ Henrik continued. ‘What happened Saturday – you saving that boy…’
I groaned. ‘Please. I’m dreading tonight. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the meal, but all this fuss – anyone else would have done the same.’
Henrik stopped and turned to face me. ‘You really believe that? Remember when we went skiing last year? That man went off-piste and landed head-first on the ground, catching his helmet on a rock? Even though he declared himself fine, it was you who insisted he visit the resort’s medical centre. He’d have been dead twelve hours later if it hadn’t been for that.’
I shrugged.
‘Then that time, shortly after we met, when a woman choked in that Chinese restaurant.’
I pulled his hand, to continue our journey towards the lights of Taxos. Hmm – fortunately I’d known how to employ the Heimlich manoeuvre, whilst everyone else panicked, apart from Henrik who’d calmed down her husband and kids.
Henrik looked sideways at me. ‘Whilst other people are prepared to stand at the sidelines, watching disasters unfold, you get stuck in to change the course of events. No doubt that’s why your career is such a success.’ He cleared his throat which had broken a little. ‘That’s why you and I make such a good match. The easy way out is never an option. We do the right thing, even if that means making tough decisions that not everyone will like. In fact…’ Henrik inhaled as if he had something important to say… was he about to propose? I steeled myself. You’d be mad to say no, Pippa, said a prim voice in my head.
‘This Friday I have planned a very special day out for you and me. So don’t arrange anything with your Taxos friends.’
I swallowed. So, Greta was right. No doubt he’d chosen an exquisite location for the proposal.
‘And, er, also I forgot to mention…’ he said, ‘…whilst you were showering – an urgent phone call came in. Tomorrow I have to go into Kos Town for a meeting and–’
‘Henrik! We’ve only just arrived!’
‘Sorry Pips… I promise, it won’t take long.’
‘So what’s so important about this bit of business that it can’t wait?’ Suddenly his fingers seemed clammy and I loosened my grip.
‘Oh, I won’t bore you with the details…’ He stared straight ahead. ‘It’s just some client who is anxious to close a big deal.’
‘Which client?’ I pushed, but all to no avail as at that moment shrieks of laughter greeted us at the village’s edge. My heart flipped – it was just the shock, of course – at the sight of Niko with little Theo on his shoulder. He looked as comfortable as if he were the boy’s actual dad, wearing a shirt as white as Greek yogurt, tucked into well-fitting jeans. With Leila, by his side, holding hands with a little girl. They looked like a family, happy and complete. On seeing us, Niko bent over and let Theo – who was carrying a football – slide onto the ground
‘Ya sou, Pippa…’ His mouth twitched into a smile, the shirt showing off his caramel skin. He nodded at Henrik. ‘We have come to greet you… Good food, good wine, good company – it awaits you in Taxos. Mind you…’ He looked down at Theo and grinned. ‘We almost didn’t make it. At this time of night, with only a few locals and tourists around, the streets make a fine, empty football pitch.’
‘I did my best to make them hurry,’ said petite Leila and I couldn’t stop smiling down at her amiable face. Nor could I stop gawping at her gorgeous dress. The colourful red and yellow floral pattern perfectly suited her skin. Nipped in at the waist, it accentuated her trim figure. Whilst I’d grown accustomed to and even liked my height, once again I just briefly wondered what it must be like to be a small, delicately-featured woman – and whether that aspect of her was what Niko found appealing.
‘Lovely flower,’ I said and pointed to the red-orange bloom with large petals, tucked behind her ear.
‘Thank you. Our pomegranate trees have bloomed late this year.’
Theo looked up shyly and said something to Niko who shrugged. ‘He asks if Henrik would go ahead with him, back to the wider part of the road, for a kick-around before we eat.’
A bubble of laughter tickled my throat. Henrik wasn’t what I’d call child-friendly. I’d never forget his bulging eyes and wrinkled-up nose when we recently visited a friend who’d just had a baby. She’d insisted Henrik hold the tiny tot, who promptly screamed in his arms, filled its nappy and broke copious amounts of wind. Having said that, Henrik oozed charm, whether it be directed at toddlers, young adults or pensioners. Indeed, his love of
