‘Ooh… Ahh… Just a little higher… Mmm, that’s going to hit the spot…’
Er, no, I hadn’t made a three hundred and sixty degree turn on my position with Niko, in order to enjoy a romantic massage. It was a couple of hours into the meeting with locals, and during a break Georgios was instructing me on how to construct one of his favourite lemon scones.
‘Just another dollop of cream cheese, in the middle, so that it is the skyscraper of cakes,’ he said. ‘But no tell Sophia – she worries about my ancestral level.’
Inwardly I almost smiled. Bless Georgios. Never again would I say cholesterol without laughing.
He gazed around. We were in the kitchen, refilling plates. Most of the scones had gone. He wiped his perspiring forehead.
‘So Pippa – how do you judge the mood of the villagers? Are they up for a fight?
The only fight I could think of at the moment, was between me and Niko.
Sophia came in at that moment, took Georgios’ lemon creation and shot him a stern look. I handed the last of the glittery scones to her.
‘They sound positive.’ I eventually said. ‘Now ThinkBig’s plans have sunk in, most people seem angry and up for a battle, determined that Taxos won’t end up like Tyrionitsa.’
Sophia nodded. ‘People are coming up with lots of ideas and see the tax breaks for what they are: shallow bribes. I was worried earlier today – thought everyone felt there was no point in opposing this big corporation and being tempted by the talk of pay-offs. I should have trusted in the villagers. The Dellis’ say they’ll make part of their land into an animal zoo for children to visit – they have rabbits, a pig and sheep, and friendly goats the visitors can milk. They shall work on it tonight. Mr Dellis’ brother, the fireman, can lend some equipment to do a controlled burn of some of the land. Then they can build fencing on the flat ground. Mrs Dellis also suggested they set up a little farm shop, as well, selling their homemade goats’ cheese.’
Georgios nodded. ‘And the postman’s wife makes jewellery as a hobby – tries to sell it at the market in Kos Town from time to time. Demetrios offered her a permanent table in the pottery. Tomorrow she will spend the day working on a new collection, based on the local animals and flowers.’
‘Although the Vesteros family still want to accept ThinkBig’s offer on their property,’ said Sophia, ‘which stands where the quad bike track would be built.’
‘Yes. A few villagers spoke keenly of the tax breaks but…’ I shrugged… ‘I’ve spoken to lots of people and most are willing to give our ideas their best shot, over the next couple of weeks. They like the sound of attracting people here because of the wildlife and more traditional activities. Then just before I leave perhaps we can reassess – decide if our plans really could save the village.’
‘Also they like the idea of the teashop.’ Sophia smiled. ‘Those roasted pepper scones disappeared within minutes.’
My stomach tingled at the prospect of helping my friends set up their teashop tomorrow.
We went back into the taverna. Villagers had spilled out onto the front road. I surveyed the room. Niko sat in the far corner, near the patio, drinking retsina. He caught my eye and turned away as quickly as he could.
I winced, handed my plate of scones to Leila and took a deep breath. As I clapped my hands, a hush fell.
‘Efharisto, again, for coming,’ I said. ‘I am glad most of you are keen to save the Taxos we know and love.’
Did that sarcastic laugh come from Niko?
An unfamiliar Greek voice shouted out from the back of the crowd and I looked to Georgios whose cheeks flushed.
‘He says is a pity your Dutch boyfriend isn’t more traditional.’
I bit my lip. ‘Henrik is a successful real estate developer and feels he’s doing the best from a financial view. But we have a chance to offer an alternative.’ I glanced at Demetrios. ‘When will you be able to start offering pottery workshops?’
He loosened his cravat and smiled. ‘As soon as. I have the clay.’
‘Same with my baking lessons,’ said Pandora.
‘We need about two days to build pens for our small animal farm – our neighbours have offered to help,’ said Mrs Dellis.
‘I only need tomorrow to plan the cycle route for my tours, and put together some maps,’ said Cosmo, slipping his harmonica into his jeans’ pocket.
‘The fishing trips can be slotted in early afternoon, during my usual siesta,’ said Niko, in a loud slurred voice. ‘Tourists don’t seem to mind the hot sun. That mean when getting back it’ll be time for a barbecue dinner.’
‘And Pippitsa – tomorrow we set up your afternoon teashop,’ said Georgios. ‘You spend the day cooking. We spend the day with soapy water and mops.’
‘I can have your shop sign made by tomorrow night,’ said Cousin Stefan.
A woman shouted something out in Greek.
‘Good idea!’ said Sophia and everyone nodded. She turned to me. ‘We should start up a petition – I can help with that. We have friends in neighbouring villages who will doubtless support us.’
I beamed. ‘Great… So, all that leaves is to put together that leaflet listing all our services with prices. Perhaps Leila could help me translate the Greek to English.’
‘Of course, Pippa.’ Leila shot me one of her friendly smiles.
‘Then some of us can head into Kos Town and distribute them in shops and travel agencies…’ I turned to Postie. ‘Do you think the post office would let us use its printer, at a discounted rate?’
His brow furrowed so Leila translated.
‘For sure,’ he said.
‘We also need to put together some paperwork,’ I said. ‘Listing our objections and–’
‘Count me out,’ said a voice from the back. ‘I no risk upsetting ThinkBig. My family come first – I need the franchise of one of those takeaways.’
A couple of voices murmured in agreement and a tall, thin man at the back, with a ponytail, just crossed his arms and listened.
‘I understand. You feel ThinkBig offers the only way out of this recession – but at what price? Pride in your job? Happiness in where you live? The modest tradition of your way of life lost, in favour of the reckless lifestyle of binge-drinking young tourists?’ I gazed around at everyone.
‘What you care?’ said another voice. ‘You go home soon, back to England.’
Niko sneered at me, as if he’d like to add ‘Hear, hear’.
‘And I shall leave my heart here,’ I said quietly. ‘Taxos is special. More than anything, I want to preserve that.’
Shaking his head, Niko got up and went onto the back patio. Luckily no one else seemed to notice.
Georgios spoke to the villagers in Greek as if he were translating what I said and some people’s faces softened.
In fact, one person clapped and within seconds the sound of applause and stamping feet filled the room. Retsina was drunk, the remaining scones were scoffed and people punched the air whilst making fighting talk. Then, to the tired strains of Cosmo’s harmonica, the yawning villagers returned to their beds. Several of us left behind started planning out leaflets and posters.
We agreed to keep in touch during the week and perhaps Friday night have a community barbecue on the beach, to take stock of the progress made. Sophia kept us supplied with coffee. Grandma hugged us all, before heading to bed. Niko disappeared – perhaps for a bracing sea walk so that he could sober up. Finally, at gone one in the morning, when I could write no more, I helped wash and clear the last plates and cups, before preparing to walk the fifteen minutes home.
‘I accompany you back,’ said Demetrios.
‘No you won’t,’ said a voice from the doorway.
I glanced over. Henrik? ‘I thought you were sleeping over in Kos Town.’
He said nothing but looked around the tables, littered with pens and paper.
‘So, this is the headquarters of Operation Reject ThinkBig’s Once-in-a-lifetime Offer?’
‘Henrik, look…’
‘It’s okay. I understand.’ His eyes crinkled as he smiled. ‘I’ll wait for you outside.’
I grabbed my handbag and sunhat, before kissing everyone goodbye.
‘We see you tomorrow morning, Pippitsa?’ said Sophia and gave a wide yawn.
I winked. ‘Yes. Bright and early. Chin up, everyone. We’ll give this our best shot.’
I headed out towards Henrik but didn’t take his hand. We walked in silence, up Taxos’ central high street, past The Fish House and Pandora’s bakery. It was another typically humid August night, accompanied by the chirp of cicadas and mew of a passing tabby cat. In the distance an owl hooted and a welcome breeze lifted my hair. Henrik looked fashion-catalogue perfect, as usual, with his long legs in tailored beige chinos and a short-sleeved linen shirt just tight enough to hint at his pecs. He’d slicked back his thick hair and a holiday tan made his slate eyes seem paler – and more appealing – than ever. And quickly I extinguished the thought that Nico’s exotic mocha eyes, ruffled hair and casual clothes were far sexier.
I glanced away as we headed towards the dusty road, wondering why this man beside me, impressive on the inside and out, wasn’t enough. We cut through the wooded area and I relished nature’s cedar pine aftershave – no celebrity or fashion designer could come up with a fragrance to beat that.
‘Why did you come back to Taxos tonight?’ I said and looked up at him.
Henrik gave a wry smile. ‘We’re on holiday. I didn’t want to spend my last Saturday night here with some pompous mayor who spends the evening eyeing up short-skirted tourists. He just got more and more drunk, sneering about the Taxos villagers, saying they’d be utterly stupid to reject my company’s “generous offer”.’ He shrugged. ‘I may agree but I don’t look down on your friends…’ He cleared his throat. ‘In fact, clearly the villagers are going to try to fight off the project. I kind of respect that.’
‘Yes and… I’m helping them. Sorry, Henrik, but I simply can’t approve ThinkBig’s plans.’
Then a not uncomfortable silence fell as we strolled along the dusty path, away from the village. Eventually we reached the villa – thankfully without a single mosquito bite. I went in, turned on the lights and kicked off my sandals. We both sat down on the sofa. Henrik took my hand.
‘I owe you an apology, Pippa – for keeping ThinkBig’s proposition from you all these months. And… I get what you are trying to do for the village. Like me, you are fighting for what you consider to be right. That’s why I love you.’
Blimey. Henrik didn’t often use the L word.
‘In fact… ‘He slid onto the floor, and whilst on one knee slipped a hand beneath a cushion. Out came a royal blue velvet box.
Oh no. No, no, no… Don’t do this, Henrik. Not now that I’ve finally made up my mind we have no future together.
‘Pippa… You not supporting me yesterday, at the town hall meeting, in a perverse way made me more sure than ever, that you are The One. You are independent… courageous… morally admirable… everything I aspire to be.’ His voice wavered. ‘Marry me, Pippa. We make a great team – have the same life-goals.’
He opened a box to reveal a ring only Henrik could have chosen. Beautiful in its simplicity, its practicality, it was a slim silver band with three small diamonds embedded in the metal.
‘Henrik… no…’
My vision went blurry as tears threatened – a sensation I was not used to, back in England. But first of all, today, I’d had to reject Niko against my true feelings, and now I was going to have to turn down a man I truly cared for.
He half-smiled and took the ring out of the box. ‘Just try it on, Pippa… for me,’ he whispered.
I swallowed. It slipped on. A perfect fit.
‘I… I’ve sensed in recent weeks a distance between us,’ he said, and sat back up on the sofa. ‘So if you need time, that’s okay. But there is no question in my mind. We fit, Pippa – as well as your finger and that ring. We are both ambitious, and follow our heads. As a couple we could achieve great things. Just look at your Mum and Dad.’
I smiled at him, really wanting to feel a rush of excitement surge through my veins, willing me to throw my arms around his neck and shout to the world that this man was mine.
However, all I could think of was the words Niko had used to describe me, like “mountain mist”. Whereas Henrik’s declaration of love used business-speak like “team” and “goals”. And as for us being like Mum and Dad… No. Returning to Taxos had only confirmed what I’d secretly thought all these years – that boarding school and jet-setting through the world without getting to know your very own neighbours… That wasn’t for me or my potential children.
Henrik stood up. ‘Look. Let’s go to bed. It’s almost two and we’ve both got a big day tomorrow.’
On automatic, I nodded as he bent down to brush his lips against mine. But his touch, which lit no flames, sent a different kind of guilty jolt through me. I couldn’t do this. I, for one, had to be honest. Henrik deserved that. Urgh! A conscience was a troublesome thing.
‘Look… There’s something you don’t know: last night, on the beach, and since we’ve arrived…’ Deep breaths. ‘I… I’ve got… I’ve had feelings for Niko.’