‘He sounds promising.’
‘Is that all you ever think about?’
‘When it comes to you, yes. It’s been three years now since Phil went. You need someone to show you a good time. It’s going to seal itself up down there, like one of those Egyptian tombs.’
‘Sofia! Honestly. That’s disgusting.’
Grace looked round to check that no one was listening to their conversation. But Sofia was in full swing.
‘You need a Harrison Ford type to come sweeping in and pull away that boulder to get at the treasure inside.’
‘Right, that’s enough.’
But Grace turned away so Sofia couldn’t see her smile.
‘I know you’re laughing. Don’t try and pretend you don’t like sex, little Miss Innocent. I know everything about you, remember.’
When you’d been friends for forty years, there was nowhere to hide. Neither of them had had any trouble attracting men at university and both had done their fair share of experimenting. Grace had met Phil on her postgraduate teacher training course, and quit the experimenting for good, while Sofia had carried on regardless.
Sex really was the last thing on Grace’s mind these days, or so she kept telling herself. The intimacy of sharing a bed was something she would admit to missing, if pressed, and since she’d arrived in Greece some of her dreams had been a bit on the raunchy side, but that didn’t mean she wanted to go out and grab hold of any man who might wander past. The dreams she put down to the hot weather and too much goat’s cheese.
Their attentive waiter was back.
‘Have you decided what you’d like, ladies?’
Sofia flapped her hands.
‘No, sorry, too busy chatting. Can you give us a few minutes, please.’
The guy looked at Sofia like he’d agree to chop off a finger if that’s what she wanted. Her friend inspired slavish devotion in men, and it hadn’t changed over the years. After an early marriage to a much older lawyer, Sofia had escaped with a mews house in Chelsea and a taste for younger guys. Sofia put down the menu.
‘I’m not really very hungry, so I’m going to have the salad with pear and Roquefort. What about you?’
Grace was starving after a morning’s teaching and missing her lunchtime dose of grandma’s cooking, which she’d have been tucking into by now.
‘I’m going to have the seafood kritharoto.’
‘What’s that when it’s at home?’
‘A type of pasta that looks like rice with lots of prawns, squid and mussels. It’s delicious.’
‘OK, I might try a bit.’
Sofia also had a habit of digging into anything you chose and assuming all meals were to be shared. So, Greece was the perfect place for her. Phil had considered it incredibly annoying. He’d found Sofia a bit much at the best of times and had gone out of his way to avoid her. If he ordered a dish in a restaurant, he expected it to be all his. Grace had always had the feeling that her friend found Phil a bit boring. But that was one place they’d never gone.
Her friend was perusing the menu again with intense concentration.
‘What about drinks?’
‘Shouldn’t we stick to soft drinks if we’re going out tonight?’
Grace had never been a fan of day drinking. It always made her want to go to sleep.
‘Rubbish, it’s the first day of my holiday. A little carafe of white wine won’t hurt.’
‘Fine.’
At least she didn’t have to work the next day.
