Page 29 of The Greek Café

‘That’s true. It’s hard to explain, but as soon as I saw the abandoned café I felt as though it was waiting for me.’

‘Are you coming back home for a bit though?’ she asks hopefully.

‘I will be, yes. I need to check in on Mum from time to time, even though she tells me not to worry and seems to be having the time of her life. Talking of parents, how is your dad?’

‘Plodding along,’ she tells me. ‘He isn’t ill, but I worry he gets a bit depressed. I have to force him to come out with us. He loves spending time with the kids though; that always cheers him up.’

‘Bring him out here. The sun would do his arthritis good,’ I suggest.

‘You know, I might just do that,’ she says positively. ‘We holidayed in the UK last year and the weather wasn’t great, so it will definitely be abroad this year.’

‘So you don’t think it’s a crazy idea to restore this café?’

‘No, of course I don’t,’ she says kindly. ‘Surprised yes, but if I’m honest, you were in a rut back home at the leisure centre. Broadening your horizons can only be a good thing.’

‘That’s true. Maybe the redundancy was a blessing in disguise.’

We chat for a little longer and I walk onto the balcony and show her the vista outside, of the rolling forest and the sparkling sea beyond.

‘I know you told me not to,’ I giggle, ‘but perhaps you can understand why I want to stay here.’

‘Oh wow, I’m not jealous much. Seriously, though, you go after what you want,’ she says firmly. ‘Maybe I will get to know my new neighbour across the road a little more. The couple are around my age, with similar-aged kids.’

‘You are finding a new best friend already?’ I pout.

‘Never. You know too much about me. And my secrets.’

‘Like eating cream cakes in town,’ I remind her and she laughs.

‘Exactly that.’

When I wrap up the call, I climb into bed and think about tomorrow. Maybe the café will cost too much to renovate. Maybe it will fail miserably, and I will have sunk a lot of money into it for nothing. Or just maybe it could be the best thing I ever did.

SEVENTEEN

It’s another glorious morning, and I wrap my light robe around me and take a cup of coffee out onto my balcony. As I sit with my thoughts, a sudden feeling of anxiety grips me. Much as I would love to own my own café, I wonder if I am running away from reality. Could I do something similar back home? Would it be easier than having to navigate the Greek legal system?

I try not to listen to my inner voice that asks me what I will do in the winter when the tourists disappear. Hopefully I can earn enough money before then, once people know about the café. And the winter months are not nearly as harsh as those back home, Rhodes being one of the warmest islands. I could give it a year. I read somewhere that to decide about a place to live, you should try and give it twelve months and see everything through the seasons.

Glancing out towards the sea, and listening to the chirruping cicadas, helps to convince me that this is where I want to be.

I could make friends here, especially with the hotel being close by, and chatting to customers would more than fill my day. And if things don’t work out there is nothing to stop me heading home. I could be on first-name terms with the locals living in the nearby village and learn enough Greek to get by.

I just know I could settle here; I can feel it. My redundancy has given me this chance that I might never have had otherwise, along with learning of Dad’s life insurance and the savings plan.

I can hardly wait to meet Kai’s friend at lunchtime. I’m desperate to find out what the costs will be. Despite any niggling doubts I may have, I feel an overriding feeling of excitement.

‘Morning, Erin.’

Summer approaches me at the breakfast buffet. She is wearing her hair in pigtails and, in her pink shorts and sparkly logo vest combo, she reminds me of a cheerleader.

‘Hi, Summer. How are you?’

‘Good,’ she says cheerfully. ‘I’m doing the kids’ club for a couple of hours today; we are going to make cupcakes. I have bought sparkly edible glitter.’

‘Sounds like fun.’

‘Your face tells me that you don’t really think so,’ she giggles.