Eleni beams, and I think she’s agreeing with me, until she says, ‘Absolutely right. So this is the only wine we let age in an oak barrel. It’s unusual, but we want it to be a connection with the land of Athens. It’s a very popular wine for us.’
‘I can tell,’ Ollie agrees.
‘Yes, I liked it,’ I chip in, but neither of them acknowledges me. ‘Like a gorgeous tree.’
‘Idefinitelythink we should go for this one,’ Ollie says. ‘What do you think, Will?’
‘Oh, yeah,definitely.’
Eleni puts the earthy anddefinitelynot fruity bottle aside.
A few wines down later, we settle on another red, and two whites for every table.
‘And what about if we strike a deal to have your wines behind the bar all night?’ Ollie asks.
‘Yes, I think that’s a good idea,’ Eleni says.
Head swimming, body swaying, we emerge back into the bright light, Eleni richer, Ollie happier, and me drunker.
I stumble into Ollie, apologising.
But he wraps his arm around me, which takes me a moment to register. It feels… different. He squeezes me, patting me on the shoulder.
‘Thanks for coming with me.’
‘I didn’t do a thing,’ I say.
He doesn’t answer, instead giving me another friendly pat before we get in the car.
‘I can’t believe you’re getting married.’
I don’t know why I say it, but I blame the tannins.
‘Mad, isn’t it?’
‘You’re happy, though?’
Ollie shakes his head, but he’s smiling. ‘What question is that?’
‘I dunno. A friendly one.’
‘Right.’
‘Because we’re friends.’
‘We are.’
‘And that’s all we are.’
‘Yeah.’ It’s hesitant, but I suppose he means it.
A bright landscape of authentic Greek lives goes by, and I see someone pegging washing to the line, another watering their plants.
Ollie keeps his eye on the road, but fiddles with a playlist on his phone. Slightly buzzed, I don’t pay attention, until Amanda Seyfried starts singing ‘Honey, Honey’.
I think of Sam.
I think of his kiss.
