Page 16 of The Little Greek Guesthouse

‘Okay now, chop the onion and garlic, quick to it,’ Maria said, bustling over and placing the ingredients they needed on the chopping board. Nina, who had watched Theo cook so often, was confident she could do this at least. They were making spanakopita, one of her favourites, and she couldn’t wait to take a piece home for Theo to try.

‘Okay, yes, good-good. Nice and neat, eh? Not big chunks to chew, eh? And now you tell me all your news and about this work you do on the house.’

And, under Maria’s instruction and scolding and fussing, Nina talked about the house and the work they were doing and her ideas of how it could be decorated, were they staying. As she spoke she sautéed the onions and garlic, added spinach and parsley, and waited until it had cooled to add eggs, ricotta and feta. The result was a delicious creamy mixture that smelled enticing.

‘Now, what about this hotel then?’ Maria asked. Her tone was nonchalant, but her gaze shrewd.

Nina shrugged. ‘Baba hasn’t told me much.’

‘It’s a local? Couple is making it into guesthouse maybe?’

Nina frowned. ‘I don’t know. Maybe.’

Maria turned away from her a little, idly stirring the mixture and nodding her approval. Her voice was light when she replied, but there was something strained about it. ‘Oh yes-yes, okay. So they just want the building nice for the guests?’

Nina shrugged. ‘I suppose so.’ The truth was Theo hadn’t spoken much about this, and Nina’s information was hazy at best. ‘I don’t think he’s sold it yet because he said he wants it looking its best to get the best offer or something.’

Maria was still for a moment, staring intently at the spanakopita mixture. Her back was stiff and her shoulders tense, but when she turned she smiled. ‘Okay, okay,’ she said softly. She shooed Nina over, waving her hands. ‘Now so, we take this off the heat and roll out the pastry, yes.’ Her sharp gaze took in the state of Nina’s apron, face and hair. ‘I show you first.’

‘I thought I saw you last night,’ Nina said as she leaned her elbow on the side and her chin on her hand, idly watching as Maria expertly balled the pastry into twelve portions, rolling and pulling each one into a papery thinness before layering them. She began placing the layers in a pan, brushing a few with oil, then pouring the filling on before adding pastry on top. She frowned as she worked, her mouth pinched into a crimped line and her face bent close to the pie she was assembling.

‘Looking up at the house? You were with someone. Was it your grandson?’

It smelled tempting, the cheese and spinach mixture having melted together, and Nina was almost distracted enough by the anticipation of the delicious flavour not to notice Maria’s sudden silence; the older woman seemed to have forgotten Nina, and was entirely focused on her creation.

‘Maria?’

Maria turned to her with a slightly startled expression, as though she’d forgotten Nina was there.

‘Last night? Was it you?’

‘Yes, yes, expect so,’ Maria said vaguely, waving Nina out of the way so she could place the pie in the oven.

‘How long does it take?’ Nina asked.

‘Oh, it’s a long time, long time to bake. Best you go now.’

‘Oh but – perhaps I could wait and we’ll have a coffee or . . .?’

But Maria was already shaking her head. ‘No, no,’ she said, taking Nina by the arm and propelling her firmly towards the door. ‘My grandson is coming home this moment now and you must go.’

‘But I – I was going to bring a piece to Baba . . .’

‘I bring. Later I’ll bring. You go.’

And Nina found herself in the courtyard, blinking against the sun that bounced off the white slabs and breathing in the scent of the flowers that Milo chewed on as the door was closed behind her. Well really, she thought crossly as she began to march back home, there was no need for that rudeness. It was one thing to be a quirky old woman, but there was no excuse for inviting someone over to teach them how to cook spanakopita then kicking them out before the bloody thing was even out of the oven. And now she’d have nothing to show Theo for her efforts. Although, thinking about it, she had to grudgingly admit that her efforts had been minimal. Perhaps Maria had sensed her lack of interest and that was why she’d evicted her.

Well. Next time she’d just have to try harder, she supposed.

Perhaps it was a good thing their cooking session had been cut short anyway; this way she had more time to get ready for her date with Vassilis. Yes, she thought as she neared her own door, this was what she needed to focus on; she was a young woman, about to enjoy a sophisticated and fun evening with a handsome man. She wasn’t a kid being taught how to bake by her granny.

Theo was in the courtyard when she came in, his bare feet propped up on a spare chair and a bottle of Mythos sitting on the table next to him, condensation beading on its surface.

‘Hi, Baba,’ she said, kissing his round tanned cheek. ‘Hard at it?’

‘Oh,’ he said, raising his hands in protest. ‘Oh your poor old baba works all day and at last I take a little break and here you come and accuse me of lazy, is it?’ Nina grinned as she watched him; even this performance lacked energy, he didn’t bother moving his feet from where they rested. She hadn’t seen him this relaxed in years. ‘And what is it you been doing, drinking coffee with an old woman?’

‘I was making spanakopita, actually – well, Maria did most of it but I helped.’