Page 79 of The Greek Café

‘I’m so glad that didn’t happen in front of a paying customer.’ I giggle as I sip my drink. ‘I am so glad you are here, in case someone asked for one.’

‘Do you feel excited?’ asks Phoebe.

‘Excited but nervous,’ I admit. ‘What if no one comes?’

‘Of course they will come.’ Ireta clicks her tongue. ‘I have told everybody. And I have made enough spanakopita pies to feed the whole village.’

‘And I have made canapes, baklava and hummus. You only need to provide drinks and bread for the dips. Do you have them all?’

‘Yes. I have soft drinks, Prosecco and beer. And I am collecting the bread from the bakery in an hour’s time.’

‘And I have the ouzo.’ Ireta winks. ‘From my friend.’

‘Oh Ireta, that home brew stuff is strong. I am still not sure about that.’

‘Do not worry. I will keep hold of it.’ She taps her nose. ‘Only a shot for close friends.’

‘I really cannot thank you enough for your help – I certainly didn’t expect you to provide food though,’ I tell my new friends.

‘We wanted to. It is wonderful to see the café up and running once more,’ Phoebe says kindly.

Putting the finishing touches to the café, Phoebe and I stand on chairs at the opposite end of the room and hang up some bunting.

‘I am glad it is you who bought the café.’ Ireta gives me another awkward hug.

‘I am too. I almost feel it was meant to be.’

‘Here, I have something for you.’

She reaches into her hessian shoulder bag and hands me a glazed flowerpot, adorned with lemons.

‘You made this? Oh Ireta, it is lovely. Thank you.’

‘You are welcome.’

As I lock the café door, my stomach rolls with nerves. At noon I will be opening the doors to the public. I am keeping my fingers crossed that everything goes to plan. Maybe I ought to have asked Ireta for some of her friend’s ouzo after all.

FORTY

The heat seems to have intensified despite it being past the height of summer and as we return to the café, to open up, a small crowd has already gathered outside, allaying any fears I may have had about nobody turning up. I suppose I should not have feared really, as Ireta was sure to make sure everyone knew.

I take a deep breath, and open the door, wondering if Takis might be amongst the people outside, but he isn’t and I try not to feel a pang of disappointment.

I welcome everyone inside in Greek, just as Ireta taught me how to.

Two tables have been pushed together and are groaning under the weight of pies, dips and cakes. Another table has a selection of drinks.

Amongst the group are the teenage boys from the village, who look a little shy when I invite them to take a soft drink. I nod at Kostas, the one who plays the guitar.

Ireta speaks in Greek, telling everyone to enjoy the food, before giving a little speech. Everyone smiles and bursts into applause.

‘You didn’t promise them any of that ouzo, did you?’ I tease.

‘Of course not. I just told them to eat. And maybe not to ask for a coffee just yet,’ she says with a twinkle in her eye.

I mingle with the guests, including a handful of staff from the hotel.

I am pleased to learn that some of the villagers speak a little more English than I had imagined.