Game Of Scones: a feel-good summer romance for 2018!. Samantha Tonge

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Game Of Scones: a feel-good summer romance for 2018! - Samantha  Tonge

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cheeks burned. ‘Sorry I palmed you – must have been due to sunstroke.’

      ‘Enough of the apologies,’ said Georgios and ran a hand over his round, hairless head before stepping forward to give me a hug. He’d been bald as long as I’d known him, and still tried to make up for that with a big, black moustache. ‘Pippa, to see you back in Taxos after so many years, warms my heart. But before we exchange news, you eat, no? Let me fetch moussaka, or a fresh feta salad, with toasted pitta bread, like you always preferred.’ He raised his bushy eyebrows which were grey and didn’t match his moustache.

      ‘Both dishes sound lovely – although that moussaka smells divine. Efharisto.’ Some words, like “thank you”, had stuck in my mind.

      Sophia insisted on helping me to one of the tables, then took the sun lounger outside as a couple of blonde tourists trickled in – a rare sight, I suspected, in Taxos nowadays. On her return we chatted about my job and parents. Niko headed over to the diners, two young women.

      ‘Ya sas, ladeez,’ he said and soon they were laughing with him. Neither could take their eyes off my Greek childhood friend. No idea why. The fact that I couldn’t either meant, um, nothing at all.

      ‘Apollo?’ I said to a black cat that strolled over and meowed. I picked him up and tickled his chin, before running my hand over the soft fur. Niko eventually came back, carrying two plates of moussaka – not without winking at the tourists, as he passed them. Sophia left us alone at the table to catch up. Carefully, I put the purring cat down.

      ‘I can’t believe Apollo is still around.’

      Niko forked up the juicy layers of meat and vegetables as if he’d not eaten for a week. Henrik would not have approved – back home, he never ate without a full set of cutlery and napkin.

      Several mouthfuls later, Niko paused for breath. A chuckle escaped his lips. ‘Sorry, hunger wins over manners when I’ve been out fishing all morning… Yes, Apollo does well – he is eighteen this year and still catching mice. And I can’t believe you’ve come back, Tomboy…’ His eyes shone. ‘Although I cannot call you that any more.’ He put down his fork and reached for my hand. ‘Those manicured nails – so mature and sophisticated, no? And your neatly tied-back hair… Where are those cute spots on your cheeks?’

      ‘You mean freckles? I’ve discovered foundation – and hairbrushes. So, guilty as charged – I’ve grown up.’

      Like two teenagers, we giggled.

      ‘That I see,’ he said, and for some reason the way he stared made my palms feel hot. ‘You happy, no, with your fancy bank job and living with Henrik, in London? In January he told us all about it.’

      Gosh, I’d forgotten how intense his gaze was. I’d also forgotten Henrik until just now. But that was normal, right? I’d just blacked out. Ignoring the guilty twinge in my chest, I decided he was no doubt tucked up in the mosquito net, sleeping off several hard months of work and today’s early start.

      ‘Hmm my colleagues… London… Me and Henrik, it is… very nice.’

      Niko burst out laughing. ‘Remember all those summers you taught me English? Rule one was NEVER use the word “nice”. You said it meant nothing at all.’

      I bit my lip. ‘Well, my English teacher drilled that into me. He was my idol. I was a bit of a language geek back then.’

      ‘But still…’ Niko picked up his fork again and toyed with a slice of melt-in-the-mouth aubergine, ignoring the cat’s hopeful stare. ‘You and Henrik… All you can say is it’s nice?’

      ‘Yes – unlike you,’ I replied, in the frostiest voice I could muster.

      Sophia glanced over as once more we laughed. She looked from Niko, to me, then back at him and her mouth downturned for a moment. She exchanged a glance with her husband. Sophia’s whole demeanour couldn’t hide a sense of… not exactly disapproval but something negative. Niko seemed to sense it too and jerked his head towards my empty plate.

      ‘You and me – let’s get some fresh air,’ he said. ‘We take two orange granitas down to the beach. Siesta is almost over, it will be cooler and I know a shady spot.’

      ‘Under the fig tree, by the disused boatshed, just before Caretta Cove – is it still the same?’

      Niko’s face lit up. ‘You remember?’

      I went to the bathroom to freshen up and when I returned Niko had prepared the slushy ice drinks. We went outside and I stared at the drinks in sealed paper cups, with straws.

      He shrugged. ‘We do takeaway drinks and food now. Times have been hard.’

      ‘The other half of the taverna is closed down…’

      ‘Yes. On a good day, we are lucky to fill just the half that is now open.’

      I slipped my arm through his, enjoying the breeze which blew stronger. It was as if the last nine years apart hadn’t happened. In fact, I almost expected him to drop a beetle or handful of damp seaweed down my back. I sucked up the refreshing granita as we strolled down the left side of the beach and eventually came to a sprawling fig tree by a dilapidated building. In the distance stood the ash and green southern mountains, all hazy at the top. We sat on the sand underneath the tree. I removed my floppy hat and sunglasses and swatted away a wasp.

      ‘That was weird,’ I said.

      Niko raised an eyebrow.

      ‘Walking together, with you now taller than me. I couldn’t give you a piggy-back any more.’

      ‘And look at you, in those fashionable heels.’ He gazed at my feet.

      ‘I forgot to change into my sandals,’ I said and kicked them off.

      Niko took my drink and put the two cups down by his side.

      ‘I no criticise, Pippa. You are a beautiful woman – more striking than the orange blush of a sunset. But then I always thought you were out of the ordinary. I…’ He shrugged. ‘I never thought I’d see you again.’

      For a moment I lost myself in his mocha eyes and swallowed hard. Henrik would never say something like that. I shook myself. And quite right too. It was okay in books, but what modern woman needed to actually hear romantic mush? Yet my heart raced like it never used to years ago, in my Greek friend’s company. What was going on? Clearly the strong Aegean sun had a lot to answer for.

      I cleared my throat. ‘So, um, come on then – what’s the punchline?’ I leant back on my elbows.

      ‘Huh?’

      ‘The joke… after that compliment.’

      Niko’s eyes lost their intensity for a second and he grinned. ‘We used to laugh a lot, no? Okay… Would you feel happier if I said you look very nice instead?’

      ‘Don’t you dare!’ I laughed and turned onto my front. ‘Does Cosmo still play his harmonica?

      Niko smiled. ‘All the time.’

      ‘How about Demetrios? Remember the awful, wonky pots we made – is he married

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