Grace had taken full advantage of her downtime on the balcony and her lunchtime lie-downs every day, knowing that she had to teach children when she woke up. They were the easier of the two groups mentally, this was the age group she knew and loved, but it was physically demanding.
There was one eight-year-old boy, Stelios, who’d seemed slightly withdrawn, and hadn’t improved as she’d hoped as the week went on, so she’d have to ask for a meeting with his parents. She’d much prefer to teach the children in the mornings when she had more energy. Thankfully she’d soon get her wish. The adults would be busier as the tourist season hotted up and would take their lessons in the late afternoons during siesta time, when all the shops and businesses were shut, before opening again around six in the evening.
Grace loved the idea of browsing around the shops of an evening. She’d barely had the chance so far; all she’d done this week was work, eat, go for a quick stroll and sleep a lot. But she’d survived, and now she could give herself permission to ease up a bit. Some outings were definitely on the cards in the coming weeks.
With the last child dismissed, her classroom tidied ready for the Saturday morning lessons, and the promise of easier times ahead, Grace was intent on getting down to the main beach again. She’d take the longer path this time; she didn’t want to risk any more encounters with grumpy guy. He could guard his precious garden boundary all day long as far as she was concerned.
Her phone rang just as she’d stopped to take a shot of the beach below to send to the girls on their WhatsApp chat. It was OK for her to call them girls because they were her girls. Grace prepared to let it go to voicemail but changed her mind when she saw who it was.
‘Sofia!’
‘Grace, baby. How the devil are you?’
Her best friend from college, Sofia, was a force of nature. Phil hadn’t been a fan and always considered her a bad influence. But he’d understood their deep bond well enough not to comment too much on his wife’s nights out with her friend or time away together.
‘I’m good. About-to-lie-on-the-beach-and-go-swimming good.’
‘Oh, I’m sooo envious. I’m stuck in an office in rainy London.’
‘It’s been a tough first week. Believe me, I deserve it.’
‘OK, I believe you! Don’t get in a huff.’
Sofia had been fully briefed on Grace’s three-month adventure and had mainly offered advice on attracting Greek men, which Grace had ignored. Sofia had truly international tastes when it came to the opposite sex. Her friend lowered her voice.
‘Listen, I’m just about to go into a meeting, but I was wondering…’
As a successful divorce lawyer, Sofia was always just about to go into a meeting, but the tone of her voice had Grace slightly worried. It was Sofia’s ‘I’m about to spring something on you’ voice.
‘Out with it.’
‘I’ve got the week after next off, and I’m thinking of coming to your island for my break.’
‘Thinking of coming? Or already booked a flight and about to descend on me?’
‘Ah. I always said you were psychic. You know me so well.’
‘I should do after more than forty years. Obviously, I’d love to see you, but you know I’m working full-time, right? You were listening carefully during that conversation? Mornings from nine-thirty and afternoons until six, with a break in between?’
‘Yeah, no problem. There’s no way I’m planning to see the hours before nine-thirty in the morning when I’m on holiday, as you well know.’
Grace could indeed recall a lot of waiting on balconies or early morning walks around foreign towns, waiting for her friend to get up, during their girls’ weekends away.
‘We can meet for lunch each day, go out and party in the evenings, and in between I can work on my tan, and check out the local talent.’
Grace couldn’t suppress a laugh.
‘You’ve got it all figured out, haven’t you?’
‘Yep. I’m flying into Athens a week today to stay with a friend.’
‘Male, I presume?’
Rather than a sailor in every port, Sofia seemed to have a man in every capital city.
‘Meow. Anyway, I’ll get the little plane to your island the following morning. I’ve booked in at the Hotel Artemis, which I understand is walking distance to the language school. So, lunch on their rooftop terrace at one o’clock after you finish work, my treat.’
‘Would I dare argue?’
