Sofia grinned at the others.
‘Wow, that is Grade A stuff, Char. The thought of those two together is… frankly quite a turn on.’
‘Sof! Really.’ Charlotte took a sip of her coffee. ‘Obviously it’s none of my business. I shouldn’t be telling people his secrets, and I really do hope they can be properly together one day.’
‘Me too, of course.’
Charlotte raised her eyebrows at her friend.
‘No, I do. I love a bit of true love.’
Just as long as it involved other people and not her, it was a wonderful idea. She’d seen what true love could do, and it wasn’talways the fairytale ending of books. It could bring destruction and heartbreak in its wake too, so it was best to steer well clear.
Sofia glanced at herself in the mirror. ‘Plus, I’m pleased that it wasn’t personal and that I’ve still got it.’
‘Vain cow.’ Maddie punched her friend on the arm. At least Charlotte had smiled for a few unguarded moments.
The stroll down towards the town beach was a lot less strenuous. To Maddie’s relief, they’d all agreed that they’d not be going up and down those endless steps to the hotel more than once a day, and they’d brought their swimming stuff with them. The ice creams had been extremely filling, and an afternoon lying on the beach would do nicely.
‘Let’s walk along here first.’ Charlotte pointed to where some small boats were anchored. ‘It must be the old harbour, built before the big one we came into on the ferry.’
The old wooden fishing boats lined up along the quay were painted in bright blues, reds and whites. They were obviously still in daily use, as the empty crates and nets on the decks could testify.
One guy even had a small stall of fish laid out beside him. He sat back on his metal chair and took a long drag on a cigarette as they approached.
Charlotte’s first thought was that if someone had requested a hot middle-aged Greek fisherman for a film, this one could have come straight from central casting.
Tanned, lined, handsome face, tick. Battered denim cap, tick. Muscles in all the right places, tick. Startling blue eyes, tick. Slow, knowing smile, tick. Her fingers were twitching. He’d be a great subject to paint. The shock of even thinking it brought aglow to her whole body. It was the first time in weeks she’d felt the urge to capture a person on canvas.
‘Kalispéra.’
He was speaking to them. She took the chance to practise her very limited Greek.
‘Kalispéra.’
‘Ah, you are English?’
It had lasted all of one word.
‘Yes, how did you know?’
He gestured at them.
‘You look English.’ He pointed at Maddie. ‘And she, with her beautiful hair is the big clue. We do not have many people with hair this colour in Greece,kókkinos, red.’
‘I see.’
The man got to his feet, towering over all three of them, cigarette still in hand.
‘I am Thanassis.’ He pointed to his stall.
‘Are you interested in some fresh fish? Caught this morning. Only a few pieces left.’ He put his fingers to his lips and kissed them. ‘Stunning cooked with just lemon, herbs and olive oil on the grill, or baked in the oven with a little fennel.’
His gesture gave Maddie a funny feeling in her stomach. Tony had been the cook in their house, and to hear another man talk about food with such passion took her aback for a second.
Charlotte answered for them all.
‘It looks lovely, but we are staying in a hotel, so we don’t have the option to cook.’
