‘That must have been fun for you.’
Grace was wearing her shortest shorts over her swimming costume, and she didn’t want to think about the picture of her bottom descending the wall, being watched on a screen by him and who knew how many more.
‘I wouldn’t describe it as fun exactly.’
The granite expression never altered. He was like a headmaster, with her as the naughty schoolgirl.
‘Anyway, this time I’m going to let you off. But if I see you attempting to take this shortcut to the beach again, there will be consequences.’
‘Oooh, I’m really scared.’
Grace found herself taking on the persona of a teenage girl. She never spoke like that, not to anyone. It was his fault. Arrogant idiot. He might be good-looking, but she hadn’t disliked anyone so much for a very long time.
The man turned on his heel and made for the house. Grace ran for the wall. It was a bit trickier getting back onto the path than it had been getting into the garden. She threw her bag over first and tried to get a firm grip on the top of the wall but got stuck halfway over. She ended up straddling the brickwork, one bare leg either side, brushing up against the rough surface.
‘Shit!’
In struggling to free herself, she’d scratched her left leg, and she could see a thin red line of blood emerging.
She turned to see him watching her, as she knew he would be, with his arms folded, up by the villa. He could go hang. With a huge effort, Grace lifted her leg up and over.
Just before she jumped off the wall, she raised the middle finger of her left hand in his direction.
With each step along the path, her irritation grew. She’d not been so angry with anyone since Phil had upped and died, leaving her to cope with everything alone. Just who did that guy think he was? The sweat was pouring off her, and her leg was sore. She needed to get into the water.
As soon as she reached the beach, Grace threw her bag down on the sand, stripped off her shorts and shirt, stepped out of her pumps and strode into the sea, tying her hair back with a band as she went, not stopping for a moment.
She waded in up to her chest, the warm water caressing her skin like a fine silk scarf. The clear sea meant she could see her own legs and feet below, standing on the folds of sand. A tiny silver fish swam past her stomach, followed by another and then a whole shoal of them.
Grace waited until her heartrate was almost back to normal, took a deep breath and pushed herself off the bottom. She headed out past the separate groups of elderly men and women floating in the water in their sun hats, chatting animatedly, and on towards the horizon.
Once she was well clear of people, Grace let rip with a practised stroke. She’d gone back to the local pool specially to learn proper front crawl two years ago, one of the many activities she’d tried since Phil died, in a bid to stave off the reality of being on her own. Unlike French lessons and photography club, this was something she’d stuck at, joining a wild swimming group at a popular spot near her cottage. Although she had to admit this was a lot more pleasant. No little fronds of plant life waiting to make their way inside your costume, no muddy feet on the shoreline as you got out, and no manic rowers narrowly missing clouting you on the head.
As she ploughed up and down across the bay, Grace looked back at the beach, noticing the rows of sunbeds at one end that she’d missed earlier, so determined had she been to get into the water. They were all arranged in twos with an umbrella in between. She’d have to find out if she could just hire one. It was a bit pointless for today, but she’d think about it for tomorrow or more likely the next day. All she’d be fit for after her swim was food and an early night, boning up on the coursework.
* * *
Up bright and early the next morning, Grace made her way down to the main teaching room a few minutes before the appointed time. Thanassis was already there, laying out information packs on desks.
‘Grace, welcome. You’re the first. Would you like a coffee?’
‘Oh, yes, please. Milk, no sugar.’
She’d only managed an orange so far this morning. It wasn’t that she was nervous exactly, but she’d got so used to tutoring her rota of pupils that she could virtually do it with her eyes shut.
There hadn’t been a whole lot of new experiences in her life recently. In her room was a bag of tricks she’d brought with her from Oxfordshire, props and lesson plans, tried and tested methods to engage students, which she hoped would work here as well.
Grace took the coffee from Thanassis and got a big grin back. He really did have a gorgeous smile.
‘Lovely, thanks.’
She’d dressed in a smart pale blue linen shirt, and knee-length white shorts. It made her look a bit like an escapee from the entertainment crew at a holiday camp, but it was practical and would be reasonably cool. Grace sat down at the nearest desk.
While Thanassis was out of the room, a guy who looked as though he was in his early thirties came in and nodded in her direction.
Blond, and a bit on the short side, he exuded confidence. More second-hand car salesman than language teacher, and he hadn’t even spoken yet.
‘Hey, I’m Charlie.’
