Page 89 of Never Too Late to Date

Christian leant in close, so close she could see the flecks of grey in his hair.

‘Yes, but you have a network of people who care about you deeply. I like the idea of belonging somewhere.’

‘Like the bar in Cheers? Where everybody knows your name.’

‘Now you’re making me sound like a right wuss. Although I did love that show.’

‘Me too. And this network of people you mention gets smaller all the time. My parents are gone, and my brothers rarely bother to come here, plus with the bar, I don’t have the time or the money to go back to the UK very often.’

‘What about female friends on the island?’

‘I’ve got a few, but they’re all loved up.’

He threw her a smile.

‘How terrible.’

‘No, I’m happy for them. But it means they’re not around much. I do have a new friend though, Vicky, who you’ll probably meet. She’s great, resolutely single and proud of it.’

Christian raised his glass in the air.

‘Go Vicky. And you seem to be good mates with your ex too, which is quite a feat.’

Was he jealous of her relationship with Panos? It was a possibility, given both his marriages seemed to be scorched earth.

‘Panos is a nice guy, but both of us agree we were never going to go the distance, so there’s no bitterness there. He’s all loved up now too, with Lydia, which I’m pleased about.’

Suzie tore off a chunk of bread and put it on her plate.

‘I think there are people who are right for certain times in your life. You can meet the right person at the wrong time, or indeed the wrong person at the right time.’

‘Very wise.’

Was he taking the mickey?

‘I mean it. When you’re young, you don’t have a clue what you’re doing most of the time. You’re led by your hormones and a lot of it is down to luck. You’re unlikely to find that forever person as a teenager, for instance, and even if you do, the chances of it working out are so tiny, it’s not worth bothering about.’

Why couldn’t she stop talking? After her little speech, he held her gaze for so long that neither of them was prepared to look away. It was only the arrival of the food that broke the spell.

An enormous grilled calamari, known as a thrapsala, was laid before them on a large blue and white oval china plate, doused in olive oil, lemon juice and herbs, with a separate jug of the sauce on the side. It was accompanied by a vibrant salad of tiny tomatoes, chunks of cucumber, black olives, strips of bright green lettuce, some thinly sliced onions, and another basket of bread.

The waitress stepped away from the table with her empty tray.

‘Kalí órexi.’

‘Efharistó para polí.’

‘Parakaló.’

Christian passed her a knife and fork and a serviette from the tiled box on the table and gestured to the dish.

‘Please, help yourself.’

‘Thank you. This looks fantastic.’

‘I love hearing you speak Greek.’

‘You should learn a few words yourself if you’re going to hang around for a while. Kalí órexi means bon appétit.’