Emails – plenty, but there was one that caught his attention. The subject was ‘revised plan’ and it was from Stathis, his business adviser, and, already, as the PDF loaded, Kostas was feeling that prickle of anticipation, not quite the kind he used to get before a big match but, as those days were gone, it was a secondary high. And then the document opened and he was looking at the plan he had personally envisaged. A hotel and spa complex to rival the best in the world. Nothing overlooked, every detail thought through, the epitome of a luxury escape for those rich enough to afford it. And now, in this latest revision, there was a much bigger marina, room to berth a superyacht or two…
He read the notes and scanned Stathis’s suggestions, but there were a few parts sticking that he did not like at all. Maybe another island would be more suitable. Concern about the wildlife. One of the hotels was very much in the way. Potential problems.
He didn’t want to read any more. He closed the email down and took a deep breath. There was no other island in his plan. This had to happen in Corfu. Kerkyra. And tomorrow he would be there to start the ball rolling. He checked his watch again. But perhaps, if he could get out of the meeting he never really wanted this afternoon, was there any reason to wait?
‘Kosta!’ Vasilis yelled.
‘Ne!’ he shouted back, waving a hand. ‘Éla!I am coming!’
3
HOTEL MARGARITÁRI, AVLAKI, CORFU
‘Look at that one! He has to be ten years old and he wears cushions on his arms to swim!’
The only thing that was swimming for Faye right now were these figures in front of her eyes on a spreadsheet she couldn’t get to add up. She had had to learn everything about running a hotel from the bottom up but there were some skills she had picked up more quickly than others – numberwork was not one of them. And she wouldn’t be looking at the rows and columns, sitting in the outside bar area with Katerina pointing out everything she found off-putting about their guests, if she hadn’t had to fix an issue with the glasswasher. And ‘fix’ was a very loose term – turning it off and back on again had solved the immediate crisis – but Faye knew she was going to have to call the plumber out. One thing she did have a diploma in was knowing when you call in an expert.
‘Look! See how he almost drowns even with the water cushions!’
Faye took off her reading glasses and put them down on the countertop. ‘Katerina, what have I said about saying things about the guests? It’s unprofessional and they are our bread and butter.’
‘They are our what?’
‘Psomi.Voutiro. Never mind. It means they pay the bills, your wages, my wages and their happiness is paramount. Important.Simandikos.’
Katerina tutted. ‘You worry too much, Faye. The boy is too busy trying not to drown to hear anything but the water glugging in his ears.’
Now Faye did look towards the pool, dipped her vision beneath the row of blue parasols fluttering gently at their edges. The boy did seem to be putting in a lot of effort for someone who was also wearing armbands and the last thing she needed – after last night’s grasshopper ‘ambush’ outside room twenty-two which she’d had to document in triplicate – was a potential drowning.
‘You see him now?’ Katerina asked, polishing a glass with a cloth and putting it back on the shelf. ‘You understand that my comments are only because of my deep concern for our valued customers.’
She smiled at Katerina’s sarcasm. Despite her incessant talking and humour verging on out-and-out discourtesy, Faye liked Katerina a great deal and the young woman was her most reliable employee. ‘I understand.’
‘So, now you will tell me who is coming to stay in the penthouse suite tomorrow? Because the whole of Kassiopi is talking about it.’
‘What?’ Faye said, picking up her glasses and putting them on top of her head.
‘There are many rumours that it is someone very, very famous, but my favourite one, the one I want to believe, is that it is Christoforos Papakaliatis.’
Faye’s heart lurched. She knew who that was. The lead actor fromMaestro in Blue. She’d devoured every episode of that series. It was everything she adored about Greece, together with all the harsh realities that were often overlooked in portrayals of the country. She also knew Dimitria had watched it – they’d watched some episodes together. Was the actor really coming here? It wasn’t out of the question. The show had been filmed mainly in neighbouring island, Paxos, but parts of it had been shot on Corfu.
‘It’s him!’ Katerina gasped, hands going to either side of her face. ‘I see from your expression! You must never play poker with anyone at thecafeneon.’
‘What? No.’ Faye mentally regrouped. ‘I mean, I don’t know who is staying here.’
‘What do you mean you don’t know?’ Katerina asked, folding her arms across her chest. ‘You are the manager and how am I supposed to interrogate you for information if you have no information to give?’
‘Well, I suppose I could be lying.’
Katerina laughed out loud. ‘Did you not hear me about your poker face?’
And Faye couldn’t help but still feel a bit disgruntled about being kept out of the loop by Dimitria if this was the kind of guest they were expecting. Perhaps she should ask the owner more directly now there was gossip circulating. As much as Dimitria loved to gossip herself, she definitely didn’t like being gossiped about.
‘So, we need to interrogate Dimitria,’ Katerina stated. ‘Teamwork.’
‘I am not interrogating anyone when we will have the answer soon enough when he arrives tomorrow,’ Faye stated, eyes returning to her numbers conundrum.
‘So, it is a “he”,’ Katerina said, eyes wide. ‘And he comes tomorrow.’
