1
HOTEL MARGARITÁRI, AVLAKI, CORFU, GREECE
This view was idyllic. To die for. Or, at least, definitely worth saving your hard-earned money up for a week or two of soaking it all in. And that was exactly what Faye Lawson had done before the very first time she visited this spot many Corfiot moons ago. Looking out over the bay of Avlaki, king-sized sheet draped over the balcony of this luxury suite, Faye tried to drink in the dazzling azure water and bright white stones as if it was her very first time. She recalled exactly how that had felt, discovering this haven for peace and tranquillity, somewhere she could finally let her mind rest. It was natural, relatively untouched by commerciality, the undulating green hills with rugged walking paths, the whole area of Erimitis across the sea. Her thoughts had always had freedom to roam here, untethered by the roaring demands of her now ex-husband, Matthew, and the definitely less loud and more eloquently suggested wishes of her daughter, Saffron. Saffron appreciated the subtle, quiet beauty here. In contrast, the only things Matthew had seemed to appreciate was the Mamos beer and the tomahawk steak and chips… neither of which Faye had partaken in since she’d returned here without her wedding ring on just over two years ago. For her, Corfu wasn’t just a holiday destination any more, it was her home.
‘Kaliméra, Faye.’
Faye turned around sharply at the sound of her boss’s voice. Seventy-five-year-old Dimitria Aspioti always insisted that it was Faye who was in charge, but it was Dimitria who owned Hotel Margaritári. It was also Dimitria who had given Faye this job and the lifeline she had so badly needed when her marriage had finally crumbled. Faye and Matthew had spent a good few years pretending the slow landslip of their relationship wasn’t really happening. But when those last boulders had avalanched off the cliff face it was like Dimitria had sensed the demise long before Faye had and was ready with a plan to break her fall.
‘Kaliméra, Dimitria.Para enai zesti, ne?’
Dimitria fanned her face as she stepped up to the balustrade. ‘Yes, it is too hot and only the morning! Ah, look!’ She pointed to the sun loungers currently placed in perfect symmetry around the edge of the pool. ‘Already our guests are out there, wanting to turn their perfect skin into the colour of the lobsters.’
Faye smiled. ‘I’ll let you into a secret,’ she whispered. ‘That’s exactly all I wanted to do when I used to come here. You must remember that.’
‘I remember Saffron hated the sunshine,’ Dimitria said, fondly. ‘That girl would have worn long-sleeved tops if she did not soon realise that she would boil like an actual lobster being cooked.’
‘And now she’s all grown up,’ Faye breathed. ‘She always wants to lie belly-up in the pool like a starfish.’
‘When is she coming? Please tell me it is soon,’ Dimitria said, hands holding on to the stonework looking a little like she needed the support.
‘I’m not sure,’ Faye admitted. ‘There was vague talk about Matthew taking her to Wales with his mother.’
Saffron was nineteen now, taking a time-out after A levels, uncertain as to what the future held, and Faye knew her daughter felt a certain degree of trepidation about that. She hadn’t seen her since Christmas, other than FaceTime, and Faye sometimes felt Matthew liked to use his more convenient UK location as a stick to beat her with when it suited.
‘Ugh,’ Dimitria exclaimed. ‘How boring when she could be here, riding around on the back of a motorbike with a handsome Greek.’
‘Hmm,’ Faye said. ‘Not the way I’ve seen most of them ride along the beachfront here.’
‘Perhaps,’ Dimitria said, turning a little towards Faye. ‘You should be riding on the back of one.’
Faye laughed. ‘I know my Fiat Panda has its issues but I’m not desperate yet.’
‘And my interest was not for the mode of transport, as you well know,’ Dimitria said.
The older woman hadn’t winked, but she may as well have.
‘Maria is ill, but I pitched in and the penthouse suite cleaning is almost done,’ Faye said, beginning to toy with the sheet.
‘Adonis has a nice motorbike,’ Dimitria continued.
‘Dimitria, we don’t need to have this conversation again.’
‘It has been a few months since we had this conversation,’ Dimitria said, helping Faye with the sheet. ‘It is the summer now.’
It is the summer now– like that was some kind of answer to everything. Ice cream was back in the supermarket – it is the summer now. Parking was a nightmare – it is the summer now. Find yourself a boyfriend, Faye – it is the summer now.
‘I don’t need a ride on the back of anyone’s motorbike.’ Faye took the portion of sheet Dimitria was working with and finished the folding herself.
‘I disagree and, Adonis, he is a very nice man. Respectful. Works hard. Has no children and still has his own hair.’ Dimitria then sucked in a breath. ‘Ohtheé mou, I have made him sound sooo boring! You are right! You do not need the back of his motorbike, you need someone different to Matthew, not the same.’
Faye mused on that. Matthew had worked hard but had he been respectful to her? One thing was certain – he definitely didn’t have hair any more…
‘Dimitria, by the time evening comes I’m too exhausted to ride on anything,’ Faye stated.
‘Anything?’ Dimitria asked, now actually winking.
‘Definitely nothing Adonis has to offer.’
