ChapterTwenty-Two
It was just an ordinary Monday. Grace repeated that to herself over and over again. She couldn’t let the fact that it was three years to the day since Phil had died overwhelm her. She refused to say she’d ‘lost’ Phil or that he’d ‘passed’. They were such silly words to use. She hadn’t ‘lost’ him– that sounded like he’d been mislaid in an aisle in Sainsbury’s– and ‘passed’ always made her think of exams. One old neighbour had rung her the week after Phil’s death to say she’d only just heard that Phil had ‘passed’. Grace had had to summon up every ounce of her strength not to say, ‘Yes, thankfully I don’t have to drive him around anymore.’
It was up to other people how they described what had happened to their loved ones, but she just preferred to go straight in with ‘died’. There was a lot of considering other people’s feelings after a death, far more than she’d thought, and there’d been days when she’d been too exhausted to cope with anyone else’s grief as well as her own. Her daughters or Sofia had gently turned people away from the door, saying that she was resting, which was a joke in itself. There’d been precious little rest in those first few weeks.
A vision of Phil’s emaciated body in his raised bed at the hospice caused her to let out a tiny cry. This was no good. She had a lesson in twenty minutes, with Stelios’s parents, the restaurant owners. Grace forced herself to think happy thoughts. She hadn’t wanted to take the day off, or draw attention to the date, which held no significance for anyone else on the island. She hadn’t even told Angeliki, although they were meeting for coffee later.
Grace had a quick look at her and Phil’s wedding photo on her phone, both of them so young and full of hope, her in a white silk meringue of a dress with a bouquet of forget-me-nots and roses, and Phil in top hat, tails and embroidered waistcoat, flanked by three bridesmaids and a pageboy, coming out of the church.
Neither of them had wanted anything quite so flamboyant, but her mother had insisted. Parents had had a lot more say in those days, mused Grace, as she dressed. They were usually paying for everything and wanted their own friends and numerous elderly relatives present.
These days, as far as she could see, the happy couple paid for most of it themselves and had complete say over the guestlist. She thought back to Flo and Jilly’s wedding, a ceremony in a barn, followed by an elegant vegetarian lunch for twenty, with their friends getting top billing, and none of her and Phil’s cronies present at all. In many ways, it made a lot more sense.
Grace added a little more makeup than usual and put plenty of concealer under her eyes to try and cover up the dark circles that were all too visible. After the relaxing afternoon on the boat, she’d barely slept, haunted by dreams of her husband: Phil as a young man, Phil with the girls, Phil fighting for breath in the hospice. She had thirty-five years of memories to draw on. It wasn’t like she was going to run out anytime soon.
A smiling Stelios opened the door to her when she arrived for his parents’ lesson– a few minutes late, as she’d needed to carry out emergency repairs to her face after more crying. Grace made a big fuss of Mikey the dog before the boy took her out onto the large covered terrace where his parents were waiting.
‘Grace. Welcome.’
Konstantina pulled her in for a hug, which almost set Grace off again. Was it a stupid idea to come to work today? It was people showing affection that undid all her good intentions, far more than indifference.
Grace held onto the woman for a few seconds longer than necessary and smiled in the direction of Apollo, her husband.
She managed to get through the lesson somehow, which she’d structured as role play: difficult restaurant customers and how to deal with them. Playing foreigners complaining about the table they’d been given, the wait for the food, and elements of the food itself was quite therapeutic, as was pretending to be annoyed by their responses to her gripes.
The couple worked calmly as a team to sort out the problems, and Grace was pleased with the progress she’d seen in their language skills in the few weeks she’d known them. They’d opted to take private lessons with her, and the investment was paying off.
‘Well done, both of you. Your English really is improving fast.’
Apollo gathered his wife up in his arms and kissed her thoroughly before speaking.
‘Thank you, Grace. You make it seem easy.’
The couple held hands all the way to the door to show her out again.
She mustn’t fall into the trap of feeling sorry for herself, not today.
* * *
Angeliki was waiting at the café in the port near the surgery, two cappuccinos already on the table.
‘You’re late!’
‘Yes, sorry. My lesson overran a bit.’
And she’d had to hide round the corner after leaving Stelios’s house to have a little cry.
‘Is everything OK?’
‘Yes, fine.’
Angeliki didn’t seem convinced. ‘You look a little… tired.’
‘Thanks.’
‘I’m worried about you.’
‘There’s nothing to worry about, honestly.’
