Page 60 of The Greek Café

‘And some of my friend’s home-made ouzo.’

‘That’s kind, but I’m not so sure. That home-made stuff is strong. I don’t want a bunch of drunken revellers in my brand-new café on opening day,’ I told her. She chuckled at that and agreed.

It all feels so real now, and I feel a mixture of excitement and nerves when I think that this will be my future.

‘What is the real risk?’ Mel asked when we last spoke.

‘Erm, nobody stopping by and me not selling a single coffee?’

‘Don’t be daft.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘It’s set in a gorgeous lemon grove, and close to a coastal path.’

‘That’s true. And not far from a busy road.’

‘Then advertise!’ she said emphatically. ‘Wooden sign, billboard on the highway, whatever it takes.’

‘Yes, you are right. I have actually thought about doing just that.’

I thought of the times I have stopped at roadside shacks and bought fruit or locally made goods. I could have a wooden sign with an arrow near melon guy’s hut.

‘And even if the café doesn’t work out, you will still have your accommodation,’ Mel reminded me. ‘You could convert the downstairs into more living accommodation. Have a holiday home or even come back to the UK. The possibilities are endless.’ She sounded so positive, my anxiety began to melt away. Well almost.

She is right though. As I have both my redundancy payout and my father’s life insurance, money isn’t too much of an issue. Even if I don’t stay here forever, renovating a café is not something I ever imagined I could do alone, having never tackled such a big project before. I feel proud that I am at least trying. Life is a journey after all, and none of us know how long we have to enjoy it.

I think of my dad then. I would give up every penny of his life insurance to spend a bit more time with him. We always think we have more time with our loved ones, don’t we?

‘I hope you approve, Dad,’ I say, into the air, as a single tear rolls down my cheek. ‘I think it is just the kind of place you would call into after a hike, for a brew and a bit of cake.’

It feels like I owe it to Dad to make a success of things. I will put everything I can into the little café. Hopefully it will be just what everyone around here needs.

THIRTY-ONE

‘Good morning.’

I ignore the flutter in my tummy as Takis approaches. Sidestepping him, my shoe loses grip and suddenly I am airborne. Flailing, I grab hold of him to stay upright and somehow end up stumbling into his arms. I look down at the spilled liquid on the floor that caused me to trip and heat rushes up my cheeks.

‘Good morning to you too.’ He smiles.

I straighten myself up and give a little cough, as Takis speaks to a nearby worker in Greek.

‘Are you okay?’ he asks as I take a seat on one of the sofas in reception.

‘Yes. Nothing more than my pride has been hurt.’ I smile. ‘Thanks for breaking my fall; I could have ended up flat on my backside.’

He tries to suppress a smile.

A cleaner appears and mops the liquid before placing down a yellow triangular sign, warning of a wet floor.

‘Probably kids running through here with their drinks or ice lollies,’ I say as I feel a slight twinge in my spine. ‘Anyway, I must get on.’

I stand and the pain shoots through my back.

‘Ouch, I must have tweaked something when I slipped.’ I rub at my lower back.

‘Are you sure you are okay?’ Takis asks, concerned. ‘Where does it hurt?’

He surprises me by placing his hands on my lower back and gently pressing. I almost jump three foot high when he hits a particular spot.

‘I don’t think you are going anywhere.’