‘Anthea’s lived in Porto Liakáda for over twenty years,’ Tash commented. ‘She has a daughter, Alexa, who’s nineteen.’
‘Do you?’ Cleo was surprised. ‘You don’t look old enough to have a nineteen-year-old daughter.’
Anthea’s lips curled at the edges and she tapped the side of her pert little nose. ‘Och! There’s this magic little shop I go to. It’s amazing what they can do.’
Her honesty was refreshing and Cleo laughed. ‘Well, you look great!’
She turned to the tiny woman in the group who’d been talking so animatedly to Tash earlier on.
‘Do you live here too?’
The tiny woman nodded. ‘Well, in Sfakia, actually. I’m staying in the village all week, though. I teach yoga and Pilates.’
Her name, she explained, was Ima, and she grew up in Northern Spain.
‘I go back once or twice a year to see my sisters and cousins, but I feel more Greek than Spanish now.’
From close up, you could see the network of lines on her face and neck, but her eyes were bright blue, sparkly and intelligent. She looked like someone who’d lived a full, interesting life and who was still very much up for meeting new people and enjoying new experiences.
‘I haven’t done Pilates for ages,’ Cleo said, shuddering to think how inflexible she’d seem compared with Ima, who was probably at least ten years older. ‘I’m dreadfully stiff at the moment. I look forward to coming to your classes.’
Ima fixed her with a penetrating gaze, which made Cleo shrink.
‘I can see you’re tense,’ she said with a tut. ‘Look! You’re all hunched up! Your shoulders are up by your ears!’
She reminded Cleo of some of her stern, former schoolmistresses.
Without another word, Ima passed her half-empty glass to Anthea and stepped behind Cleo, reaching up and pushing her shoulders down firmly into their sockets. She might be small and slight, but her hands were remarkably strong.
The pressure made Cleo groan with pain and pleasure, all rolled into one. She twisted her head from side to side to loosen her neck and it cricked so loudly, she thought everyone would hear.
‘Thanks,’ she said, when Ima finally removed her hands and stepped away again. ‘I obviously need to work on that.’
‘You do,’ Ima replied. ‘There is much to be done. But you’ll be amazed what we can achieve in a week.’
At that point, Cleo saw Henrietta weaving through the gathering towards her, followed by the two very similar-looking young women with long, brown hair.
‘Meet Frida and Ingrid,’ Henrietta said. ‘They’ve come all the way from Oslo.’
The young women smiled, revealing rows of clean, white, healthy-looking teeth.
After the initial pleasantries, Cleo asked how they’d had come to choose this particular retreat.
In perfect, heavily accented English, Frida, who was slightly taller than her friend, explained they’d been doing some Google research and liked the look of the retreat’s website. They also fancied Crete as a venue. This was the second year they’d come, which was obviously a good sign.
‘How do you know each other?’ Tash wanted to know next.
‘We work for the same company,’ said Ingrid. ‘We’re both engineers.’
Cleo was impressed. They didn’t look much older than her own daughter.
‘What sort of engineers are you?’ she asked.
‘Civil engineers,’ Ingrid explained. ‘We’re working on the design and construction of a new hydropower plant.’
‘There aren’t so many women in our team,’ added Frida. ‘We’re heavily outnumbered. Luckily Ingrid and I hit it off straight away.’
She turned to Tash and Cleo.
