‘What’s the score with the language school? Do you get plenty of time off? Are there lots of cool bars on your island? When Brad and I visited Ios you couldn’t move for bars, and Australians.’
Grace stopped trying to count the new freckles on her daughter’s nose.
‘As far as I can make out, it’s nothing like that. There are tourists on my island, of course, but plenty of them are Greeks. There’s a thriving year-round community, and I think Australians are few and far between, thank goodness.’
Grace quickly rowed back as Lottie’s boyfriend loomed behind her daughter, put his arms over her shoulders and kissed her on the top of the head.
‘No offence, Brad.’
‘None taken, Mrs F.’
‘Call me Grace, please.’
Grace paused as her daughter angled her head back so Brad could move in for a full-on snog.
Flo put her hands over her eyes.
‘Yuk. Make them stop, Mum!’
Everywhere she looked, the whole world seemed to be part of a couple, two people exchanging glances and more. She’d stopped accepting invites to dinner parties for that very reason. And if anyone said anything along the lines of ‘John lost his wife last year. I know you’ll have lots in common,’ she could cheerfully strangle them.
Her married friends were obsessed with getting her coupled up again, but if she did accept an invitation as a solo guest, some of the women gave her a wide berth and acted as if she was desperate to cop off with their husbands.
The behaviour of the men who’d sidled up to her and made it clear that they’d be up for playing away from home was a shock as well. Thankfully none of her close friends’ husbands, but she’d stopped going to the village greengrocer’s after a rather too enthusiastic demonstration by the owner of how fresh his bananas were and plenty of winking, while his wife served a line of customers. Married men were definitely not her bag.
‘Mum! Hello? You were saying?’
‘Sorry, miles away. It’s not a party place. It’s a working island in the Cyclades with a lovely main town lined with marble streets. Anyway, I’m going to be grafting too hard to hang about in bars.’
Lottie blew her a kiss.
‘You say that now. We’ve seen you in party animal mode, remember. Two wines and you’ll be up on the table.’
Grace pursed her lips.
‘But seriously, Mum, we want you to enjoy yourself as well. Ever since Dad…’
Grace grabbed for Flo and Jilly’s hands as Lottie reached for Brad’s.
‘Died, you’ve been like a hermit. It’s time to get out there again. You’re a good-looking woman with plenty of life left in you.’
‘Thank you, Oprah.’ But Grace smiled to take the sting out of her words. ‘I’m not looking for a man in Greece, sweetheart. Believe me, that’s the last thing on my mind. Anyway, from the website it looks like the people I’m going to be working with are in their thirties at the most. I’m the oldest by a mile.’
Grace could see her daughter about to speak, and she wagged her finger at the screen.
‘And before you say it, madam, I am absolutely not in the market for a toy boy.’
‘Don’t rule it out. It works for some of us.’
Lottie’s adoring look at Brad had her sister miming sticking her fingers down her throat.
A ring on the doorbell was the sign Grace needed to shut down this particular conversation.
‘Right, there’s our takeaway. I’ll ring when I’m settled. Love you.’
‘Love you too.’
With the food despatched, Grace’s eyelids began to droop. She decided to leave Flo and Jilly to it.
