‘Wash your mouth out, young lady. Don’t let the Greeks hear you say kebab. That’s a Turkish word, or more accurately an Arabic word, and you know how the Greeks feel about the Turks.’
Grace had noticed some animosity from even the most level-headed Greeks towards the Turks. It seemed that every country needed another country to pick on.
‘The Greek word gyros comes from gyro, which means turn or revolution, a reference to the way the meat is cooked on a spit and sliced off.’
‘Yes, just like a kebab.’
She hadn’t come here for a linguistics lesson; she’d had enough of teaching for one day. Will could come across as a bit of a know-it-all at times.
He raised his glass to hers.
‘Yamas!Settle in because there’ll be a bit of a wait.’
‘Yamas!This had better be worth it.’
Will shot her a wink.
‘You’ll see.’
Grace sat back with her beer, but the situation with Giannis and Elena wouldn’t let her relax. She might as well do some research.
‘So, what are your employers like?’
Will put down his beer.
‘Where’s that come from?’
‘Just interested. And because I’ve got a problem with mine.’
‘Mine are great. A Greek–American family that I’ve been with for ten years, ever since I stopped being a personal bodyguard.’
Visions of Kevin Costner carrying Whitney Houston in his arms to safety raced through her mind. She’d have to find out a bit more about that later, but it wouldn’t help her with her current problem.
‘I’m now head of security at their villa, in charge of a small team. Of course, you’ve been there, or the gardens at any rate, haven’t you?’
Grace ignored the dig.
‘It sounds like a good place to work. No problems between them as a couple?’
‘Err, no. They get on well with each other and don’t mistreat their kids. What is this about?’
‘Can I ask your advice?’
‘Sure.’
‘If you knew something about one of them that would hurt the other one, but you felt it was something they ought to know, would you tell?’
Will raised both hands.
‘Things are never black and white, but if you want my opinion, leave well alone. No one will thank you for it. Don’t shoot the messenger and all that.’
She could have betted that’s what he’d say. It was what Phil would have said if he was alive. It was the male answer to most things. Don’t get involved.
‘And if they’re wealthy, I’d be even more careful. The rich play by their own rules. You don’t want to get caught in the crossfire.’
‘Oh, look, I think our food is coming.’
Two plates with parcels wrapped in brown paper and a separate bowl of fries arrived on the table. Will grabbed one of the chips and put it in his mouth.
