Page 2 of The Little Greek Guesthouse

Nina stepped out of his arms, snapped the lid on the case shut and wheeled it to the hall, the bag carrying her vinyl over her shoulder.

‘Goodbye, Sam,’ she said, locking the door behind her.

It didn’t take long to lose everything: her job, Sam, the flat. In that order, and in quick succession. She hadn’t expected to be living back with her dad, sleeping in her childhood bedroom which still had pink bunting over the bed, twinkle lights around the mirror and her A-level artwork hanging on the wall, at the age of thirty-three. Nina was strong and independent by nature, she’d worked hard, she’d been successful; it took a lot to break her.

But she felt broken now.

Everything she thought she could rely on was gone: the exciting and successful career she’d put so much work into; the boyfriend she thought loved her; the friend she thought she could trust. Her whole world had turned upside down in a day, and she was spinning out of control. For the first time, she was unable to see what was ahead.

Nina tried to be strong. But as she looked around her childhood bedroom, taking in the butterfly stickers that adorned the mirror, she couldn’t help but feel it was a far cry from the plush, tasteful city centre apartment she’d shared with Sam.

Her life had fallen apart. And she had no idea how to fix it.

Her heart began to race as she tried to think of any plan for the future, her hands shaking and her throat feeling as though a diamond ring was wedged in it. There was no way out that she could see. In despair, she flung herself face down on the single bed, sobbing into the pink pillowcase until she was called down for dinner.

Her dad, Theo, was thrilled to have her home. ‘No need to be so sad,’ he said as he cooked her favourite meal, gyros pork, and she sat leaning on the kitchen counter, chin in hand, her face still blotched and her eyes still swollen. ‘That boy was useless, I can say so now you’re not together, he never deserved you, Antheia, too much at the work and the gym, not enough time with you.’

She smiled at his use of the nickname he’d given her as a little girl, meaning blossom in his native Greek. She was born in May, and the cherry tree in the front garden was in full bloom when they brought her home. Nina pulled the big jumper she wore over her pyjamas around herself and rolled her eyes.

‘What do you mean, now we’re not together?’ she muttered. ‘You always said he wasn’t good enough for me.’

‘Well,’ he turned from the frying pan, waving the spatula at her as the air filled with the delicious smell of searing meat, rosemary, thyme and garlic. ‘I was right, wasn’t I? You should listen to your old baba.’

Nina snorted, heaving herself up to spoon the homemade tzatziki out of the food processor and onto the pittas he was taking from the oven. ‘You’ve been saying my boyfriends aren’t good enough for me since I kissed Jamie Dunkley in the playground when I was seven. Maybe I got together with a cheating, self-absorbed workaholic like Sam just to take pity on you and prove you right at long last.’

He chuckled, his shoulders shaking, and Nina couldn’t help but smile, despite her broken heart and the undeniable shambles that her life was now. At least she had her dad. They filled the pittas with the pork, slices of red onion and tomato, and sat at the table. ‘You will find better,’ he said, through his first mouthful. ‘All will come good, you’ll see.’

Nina couldn’t see how. Everything was looking pretty bleak right now. But as she took a bite of the delicious food, the meat wrapped in the warm pita melting in her mouth, tzatziki oozing out and dripping down her chin, she thought that life was bearable, for tonight at least.

‘Anyway,’ Theo said. ‘I was right about the Jamie too, you know he turned into a delinquent.’

Nina wiped her chin with her sleeve. ‘I – what do you mean, he’s an estate agent living in Milton Keynes!’

Theo swallowed his mouthful, wagging a finger at her, his eyes glinting. ‘Now, but you know what happened when he was a teenager, remember. Thief.’

Nina snorted a laugh, half-chewed tomato flying out of her mouth and on to her plate. ‘Baba! He pinched a pack of Monster Munch from the post office when he was thirteen, he wasn’t exactly a hardened criminal.’

‘Bad boy, see I was right about the Jamie and right about the Sam. No good for my Antheia. But no wonder that Dunkley boy turned out bad, you know what his parents were like.’ He stopped, giving her a meaningful look over his glasses and a grin that wouldn’t be amiss on a cheeky schoolboy.

Nina gave him a mock-chiding look. ‘Don’t be such an old gossip.’

He shrugged. ‘Okay fine. I won’t tell you about what happened with his mum and the cake stall at the school Christmas fair, but let’s just say, I can tell the difference between shop-bought and homemade pastry, no matter what she claimed.’

‘Wow.’ Nina shook her head. ‘Crime of the century. You need to get out more, get some excitement in your life.’

‘Well yes, that’s why I’m going back to Kefalonia for the summer.’

‘You are?’ Nina had heard nothing of this plan. Theo rarely visited the island where he’d grown up.

He nodded, swallowing the last of his pita and wiping his mouth. ‘Yes, well this is not why, of course, the house needs some work.’

‘The one you inherited from your Uncle Costas? The paperwork’s gone through?’ Nina imagined the house for a moment, a small white-painted place with blue shutters that kept out the heat, with views of the sea. Perhaps they could holiday there.

‘Yes, and I have a hotel interested to buy it, so I can look after you, just like I promised your mama. But it needs work first, I’m thinking.’

The dream of the holiday home disappeared. Nina felt a little wistful.

‘You should come,’ Theo said. ‘Come for the summer.’