Page 13 of The Little Greek Guesthouse

Nina wiped tears from her eyes as the giggles subsided a little. ‘Yes, Baba, that’s exactly what I looked like.’ She shook her head, another laugh hiccupping out of her. ‘And I wasn’t on the beach all day.’

‘Oh no?’

‘No. I went to the café and Yiannis gave me some baklava. And now I’m going to eat both slices myself because you’re mean and you don’t deserve any.’

And Theo was off again, rocking back on his heels as though she’d hit him and rolling his eyes around. ‘Oh I see, this is the way it is, you leave me working and working until my old bones break and then, no, no baklava for Baba, Baba can be left to starve.’

Nina eyed the spot where Theo’s t-shirt had ridden up and the curve of his round belly stuck out. She doubted he’d be wasting away.

‘I’m supposed to be having a break, Baba, I should at least be allowed a day on the beach to distract me from all the crap I’ve had going on.’ She didn’t mention that she’d actually been expecting to have a whole summer on the beach. Perhaps now wasn’t the time to confess that to Theo.

He blew air out in a ‘pff’ sound. ‘Distraction, nonsense, working is good distraction, all you need, what good is lazy on the beach going to do.’

Personally, Nina thought that lazy on the beach would do her a whole heap of good, but looking at the bags under Theo’s eyes and the sweat streaks in the sawdust that covered his face, she relented. Perhaps she should have realised that he was inviting her to help with the house over the summer, not just to have a holiday; there was a small possibility that she hadn’t listened properly.

‘Fine,’ she said, trying to sound as cross as possible. She didn’t want to let him off the hook too easily. ‘What do you want me to do?’

His face lit up. ‘You do this sanding, it’s too bad for my old back. And I will get ready for Vassilis. But first, baklava, yes?’ He grinned, the mischievous schoolboy look was back.

‘Okay,’ she said, handing over the bag. ‘But don’t eat them both! And who’s Vassilis?’

Theo spoke through a mouthful. ‘Builder.’

But Nina had already started the sanding, and was already annoyed. ‘This is a hand sander, Baba, we need a bigger one to do the floors!’

He shook his head, licking pastry flakes from the corner of his mouth. ‘Floorboard uneven, big sander misses lots, you have to do with hand sander.’ He waved a hand. ‘Chop to it.’

Nina gritted her teeth, her back already protesting and sawdust sticking to her mascara. ‘Hop to it,’ she muttered.

Chapter Seven

With Theo out of the way, Nina fell into a rhythm, running the sander back and forth over the floorboards, leaving a trail of smooth, gleaming wood behind her. The results were impressive, she had to admit, and images of the room freshly painted, the floorboards varnished and with a beautiful rug in the centre flashed through her mind.

It was back-breaking work, though, and all the more punishing in this heat; sweat pooled unpleasantly in the paper mask she wore over her nose and mouth, and sawdust stuck to her damp hair and skin. She felt dirty, hot and tired. This was definitely not what she’d signed up for, and not how she wanted to spend the rest of the summer. She thought, with a stab of bitterness, of the image she’d had of herself lying on the beach drinking cocktails, perhaps even finding a handsome local to have a bit of a rebound fling with. Nothing serious, she obviously wasn’t ready for that – might never be. But someone pretty and fun to take her mind off Sam and Mags.

As she reached down to heft the sander to the next floorboard, her nail bent and snapped, shooting off across the room and sending a sharp pain flaring up her finger. Nina cried out, throwing the sander down and sucking on the offending fingertip, now displaying an ugly, jagged nail and spoiling the set of perfectly manicured, coral-coloured gels she’d had done especially for this trip.

She kicked the sander, stubbing her toe in the process, and yanked the mask off, shrieking in frustration as she wiped her sweating face. She was horrified to find tears trickling down her hot cheeks; it was just a broken nail. She was overreacting. But, as she glanced through the doorway and caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror in the hallway, she felt a sob convulse in her chest. This wasn’t supposed to be her life; she was supposed to be the glamorous city girl, the girl who got the promotion, the girl with the handsome, successful boyfriend.

But all of that had been stolen from her, and she was a mess. Her hair was clumped and matted, her face smudged with mascara, streaked with dust and blotched with sweat, her dress damp and sticking to her skin. Her manicure ruined. As she stared at her hand despondently, she realised with horror that she’d forgotten to remove the gold bangle, and it was now covered with dust. With shaking fingers, she undid the clasp and slipped it from her wrist, wiping it on the hem of her dress and inspecting it, desperately hoping it wasn’t scratched or damaged.

The gold shone as she cleaned it, and luckily didn’t seem worse for wear; she breathed a shaky sigh of relief, feeling the tension in her stomach fade a little. The ten tiny diamonds that were evenly spread around the bracelet, one for each year Theo and Clare had been married on the anniversary he gifted it to her, remained intact. It was the most valuable gift he’d given her, and the most valuable thing Nina owned; she had bought herself a few items that were as costly, but nothing meant as much to her as this. It was a small part of her mum – she remembered it glinting on Clare’s wrist daily, and now the same metal rested against her own skin, her fingers touched the same clasp that her mum’s had. Nina pressed the bangle to her lips, and carefully placed it back on her arm.

She would bet anything that her mum had never once let herself get into the mess Nina was in now. She was cool and calm, sophisticated and in control. She would never have lost her job, or her boyfriend, or chosen such a fickle boyfriend and friend in the first place. What on earth would she think of her daughter if she could see her now? She’d be ashamed, wouldn’t she?

Nina hiccupped down a sob and wiped her face as best she could. This wasn’t working. She was a mess, she hadn’t planned to spend her summer doing this, and she wouldn’t be any use to Theo like this anyway. And who on earth would want to have a rebound fling with her in this state?

No. She needed to go home and get her life on track. To be the cool collected woman she’d always hoped to be; the woman her mum would’ve been proud of.

She took a shaky sigh, determined now, and went to track down Theo in whatever crazy task he was up to. Which was probably eating the baklava, she thought.

She found him in one of the top rooms, pointing out the holes in the roof to a man who was balanced on a ladder. As she came in the man jumped down, nimble and graceful, and pulled his t-shirt over his head, revealing a tanned and toned torso, before using it to wipe his face.

Nina stopped in the doorway, momentarily stunned, and unable to tear her eyes away from this Adonis standing in front of her. Turning, he saw her and immediately loped over, lithe as a panther. He stood before her, dark eyes and easy smile, the few lines he had crinkling and making him even more handsome, if anything. He took her hand to kiss it.

‘Yassas,’ he said.

Nina gulped and tried to surreptitiously tidy her hair. Of course she would meet this beauty of a man when she looked like she’d been dragged through a hedge backwards.