‘I am treating you both.’
Maddie opened her mouth to protest.
‘And I’m not taking no for an answer.’
Sofia fought to keep the emotion out of her voice.
‘I’ve got something I want to tell you both… but first we eat.’
‘You’re not ill or anything, are you?’
Maddie’s worried little face almost undid her. She should have thought before she opened her mouth. For Maddie, ‘something to tell you’ was always going to be linked with Tony and illness, major illness.
‘Oh God, no, sorry. It’s nothing like that. This is a good thing, honestly.’
It didn’t feel like a good thing at the moment, and she wasn’t sure it ever would, but she didn’t want Maddie worrying all through the meal.
The restaurant was on the next floor down. They were shown to a table next to the lovely picture windows overlooking the sea by a waiter in a blue and white striped waistcoat echoing the colours of the ferry company, and indeed of Greece itself. Sofia idly wondered if their uniforms had been made up out of a job lot of leftover flags.
Crisp white tablecloths and a carpeted floor were a world away from the cafeteria they’d passed on the way, with weary travellers slumped in their chairs over half-drunk coffees, or fast asleep on bench seats. The final destination of the ferry was Piraeus, Athens’ port, but it wouldn’t arrive there until early the next morning. Happily, they were getting off at the next stop, just the right amount of time for a decent dinner and a confession.
Sofia shooed Charlotte and Maddie into the seats right next to the window. She wanted her friends to have the best possible experience.
Charlotte’s animated face proved she’d done a good thing.
‘What a view! We should be able to see the sunset from here as well, and watch it go down over the sea in a blaze of glory.’
‘Yes, I’m determined to hang out here until it’s time to get off, so we don’t need to move anywhere else. There’s no rush.’
Charlotte picked up her knife and fork and inspected it for marks.
‘Clean as a whistle. It’s like a proper restaurant. I didn’t expect that on a ferry.’
Sofia picked up the wine list.
‘It looks so much better than it did on the website. Now, wine. White or rosé?’
Maddie twisted the ring on her wedding finger round. Sofia had noticed she often did it when she was nervous. She hadn’t yet dared to suggest to her friend that it was time to take it off completely.
‘I was quite fancying a red tonight for a change, if that’s OK.’
‘Of course it’s OK. You have what you want. Char?’
‘Rosé for me please.’
‘Me too. So, let’s get a bottle of each. Here’s the waiter with the menus.’
With their food choices settled, and the wine opened, a basket of warm hand-made rolls was delivered to their table, wrapped in more crisp white linen and accompanied by a black olive dip.
Maddie raised a glass at the other two and took a big swig of her red.
‘Cheers! I bet those meatballs…’
She picked up the menu again.
‘I mean thosekeftédesyou chose, Char, are nothing like the Swedish meatballs we had to make for home economics that time. Do you remember?
‘God, yes, what were they called? Kot-something?’
