Page 34 of Never Too Late to Date

‘Yamás! If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.’

‘Yamás!’

Everyone just about managed to squeeze in round the big outdoor table under the terrace, which she and Suzie had helped lay. It was adorned with a beautifully embroidered white lace tablecloth which Angeliki proudly told them her mother, Daphne, had made herself, which elicited much oohing and aaahing. The cloth was complemented by large vases of hand-picked yellow spring flowers, which grew wild at the side of the road. Vicky had been the one to rush out and cut bunches of them earlier while the coffee was being brewed. The Greeks considered them weeds, but Angeliki had had to admit they looked elegant in the brightly coloured ceramic vases she’d had stored under the stairs.

The food offerings were laid end to end along the table, and everyone helped everyone else to devilled eggs and a variety of salads and bread, plus copious amounts of wine and beer.

Nick ferried over platter upon platter of lamb chops, lamb burgers, lamb steaks and other cuts she couldn’t even identify, and Vicky tucked in, assuming these were the main course.

But when a series of enormous steaming terracotta dishes appeared containing slow-cooked lamb on the bone with potatoes and vegetables, done in the oven, she realised this was very much not the case.

Her stomach was already fit to burst, but there was no refusing the star of the show, washed down with yet more wine. She’d been on the lookout for a water jug for a while, but it always seemed to be just out of her reach, and then she’d be distracted by someone asking her something and sloshing yet more wine into her glass.

Although everyone except her and Suzie was Greek, the guests were mainly businesspeople from the town, so they spoke excellent English as a matter of course, which helped no end.

One man had regaled her with funny tales of his elderly aunt, who always fasted all through Lent and refused any meat. One Easter Sunday, liberated from her pledge, she’d attempted to eat five kilograms of lamb in one go, and ended up in hospital. Before today she’d have said that was ridiculous, an urban myth, but seeing how much food was on display, she now had no trouble believing the tale.

Angeliki’s mother, who spoke no English, was sat at the end of the table and just smiled in her direction occasionally. She could vaguely remember Angeliki’s parents visiting them at their student house in Liverpool a few times, bringing little tastes of home back for their daughter, which she also benefited from hugely. Authentic thyme honey was something she’d looked out for everywhere ever since, along with proper white taramasaláta and a liqueur called mastika.

Now she was in Greece, she could lay her hands on those items and plenty of other delicacies in most places she went, but she was ashamed it had taken her so many years to make the trip to Angeliki’s home country. Although Angeliki had invited them many times, Ian had always been against visiting Vicky’s friend’s island, preferring Croatia or Devon for their annual holidays.

And she’d gone along with it to keep the peace, as usual, although she’d have loved to show Tasha where her godmother lived. The word ‘doormat’ in neon lighting flashed into her mind. But there was no point raking over the past. She looked down the table at the smiling faces, and beyond them all the way to the golden sand and the sea, azure in the sunlight. She was here now, and that’s what mattered.

Although most people at the table seemed to know each other well, she didn’t feel at all left out, and as the wine loosened her tongue, she even tried out the few words of Greek she’d learnt, although the conversation inevitably ended up being in English, as it was pretty obvious there wasn’t anywhere very far to go after the standard phrases had been exhausted. Ti kánete? How are you doing? … Apó pou eíste? Where are you from? … Ehete paidiá? Do you have children? … that was about it. But it was enough to sit and drink in the atmosphere.

It was a bit like being in the middle of a big rowdy children’s party with alcohol instead of juice.

When the meat dishes were finally cleared away, there was a light-as-a-feather sponge cake for dessert, layered with cream and fresh strawberries, and Vicky surprised herself by liberating a tiny corner of her stomach and taking a slim slice. She glanced at her phone. They’d been eating for a solid six hours. Suzie had told the truth this time: a British roast was a drop in the ocean compared to this.

After a huge round of applause for the hosts, the coffee and chocolates were brought out, and someone turned on the music. One by one people either got up to dance or sat back in their chairs, semi-conscious. Vicky was in another place altogether, the barely conscious camp, as her body caught up on just how much booze she’d put away.

Suzie tugging her to her feet and launching into an energetic boogie was a step too far. What she needed was a lie down, not to be twirled around. Her head swam, and she staggered back and gripped the edge of the table.

‘Hey! Are you OK?’

Suzie’s voice came from very far away, and suddenly she was being eased back into a chair. She closed her eyes, just for a moment.

When she opened them again, the concerned face of Alex the Vet loomed above her. Was she in the middle of a particularly terrible dream? Or even a nightmare?

‘Stand back, everyone. She just needs some air. Can someone fetch a big glass of water, please.’

This was all too real. She hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him earlier. Not that she was looking. He must have just arrived. Probably out saving an animal somewhere and far too busy to come to an Easter party. Even she was momentarily ashamed of the nastiness of her own thoughts. But something about him just made her hackles rise. Always playing the good guy. To be fair, she didn’t have proof that he was merely playing, but it felt like it. She’d not had much experience with good guys.

Alex put the glass of water in her hand, and she gulped it down gratefully.

‘Easy…’

Now he was treating her like a child. She tried to get up to get away from him, but his hand on her arm was surprisingly firm.

‘Leave it a minute. You don’t want to faint.’

She wasn’t having him tell her what to do. She attempted to push herself up, but the woozy feeling returned with a vengeance. Suzie was on one side of her, stroking her hand, and Angeliki the other. Her hostess had given them the loveliest day. She didn’t want her to worry. A quick lie down and she’d be right as rain.

Alex was speaking, yet again, this time to Angeliki. She strained to hear what he was saying. Didn’t he ever give it a rest?

‘She needs to go home and sleep it off. I’ve been on call, as you know, so I haven’t drunk a drop. I can take her back to the sanctuary; I was going there anyway to check in on a couple of post-ops.’

Sleep it off. How dare he. Arrogant sod for assuming she was drunk. But it wasn’t fair on her old friend that she interrupt the party any further. It still had plenty of mileage in it, judging by the raucous laughter all around her. Making a quick exit was the best choice, even if she had to suffer Alex’s self-righteous disapproval all the way back home.