Page 59 of The Little Greek Guesthouse

She was still laughing. ‘Don’t give up the day job.’

As she said it, she wondered what his job actually was. She knew he did conservation work, but that was voluntary, surely. She suspected he was a workaholic, spending all his free time focused on conservation work, leaving nothing spare for relationships. Like Sam.

‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘Thanks, but I’m going to go to the café. There’s something I need to talk to Eirini about.’

Eirini glanced at Nina over the dirty plates she was collecting from a table, taking in her flushed, makeup-free face, hair coming loose from the ponytail she’d hastily tied it into, and old gym clothes. She gave Nina a knowing smile.

‘You’re settling in,’ she said.

‘What do you mean?’ Nina picked up some empty glasses and carried them into the café with her.

Alex took them off her, smiling. ‘Thank you, you don’t need to do this! Go sit down, you’re a customer.’

Nina watched as he and Eirini shared a warm glance, and he placed his hand briefly around her waist. She tried not to feel wistful.

‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘It’s the least I can do, what with your dad giving me free food all the time.’

Alex just laughed, and went to take an order for a family sitting outside.

‘You seem – I don’t know. More yourself.’ Eirini shrugged. ‘More relaxed.’

Nina smiled. She couldn’t disagree. These last few weeks she’d felt more comfortable in her own skin than ever before. ‘You due a break soon? I want to talk to you about something.’

Eirini practically threw the plates onto the counter, turning to Nina with an eagerness that verged on manic. ‘Is it about George?’

Nina tutted. ‘No, it’s not – why would you think it’s about George? It’s nothing to do with George. I’m not even thinking about George.’

Eirini nodded, making no attempt to hide the smirk on her lips or the glint in her eye. ‘Talking so much about this man you don’t even think about.’

‘Well, I – you’re talking about him, I’m not talking about him!’ Her blushing cheeks didn’t help her attempts to convince Eirini that she had no feelings for George whatsoever. But really, she had no feelings for George whatsoever. Did she? She tried to drag her thoughts away from their moment in the car. ‘It’s – I need to talk to you about something else. When you get a break.’

Eirini shrugged. ‘I work for free, I take a break whenever I want. Right?’ She glanced at Yiannis, grinning.

He nodded. ‘Coffee?’

Eirini nodded and took Nina by the arm, leading her to a table in a shaded corner of the courtyard. The children crouched on the ground, pushing toy cars around, barely acknowledging their mother even when she tousled their hair and kissed their cheeks.

‘So, if it’s not the handsome conservationist you want to talk about, what is it?’ Eirini asked, sitting down.

Nina shot her a look, choosing to ignore her mention of George. And that particular description of him. She took a deep breath. ‘It’s Vassilis.’

‘Ah. The handsome builder.’

‘Yes. He – he took my bracelet, the one that was my mum’s.’

Eirini sighed, putting her elbows on the table and sinking her head into her hands. ‘Oh my god,’ she muttered, her voice muffled.

‘I’ve got it back now, but only because I found it and took it; he didn’t return it or anything. And I just – the bracelet means so much to me and he saw how upset I was, and I’m just – I’m just so angry at him, and at myself, you know. I really thought he was decent. So stupid.’ Once again, she thought.

Eirini sighed, looked down at her clasped hands on the table. ‘He is – there have been some . . .’

She stopped as Yiannis arrived with their coffees, and a plate of melomakarona. Nina eyed the biscuits gratefully. She knew from experience that their appearance as little flat loaves of bread was deceptive, hiding a sweet and delicious flavour.

‘There have been a few rumours about Vassilis,’ Eirini said as Yiannis moved away.

‘What, that he’s a thief?’ Nina’s outrage was beginning to show in her tone of voice. ‘You could’ve told me!’

‘It’s – well, yes. I’m sorry. I just – there’s always rumours in a small place and I just didn’t believe them, honestly I thought he was decent too. If I’d known for sure, then I would’ve . . .’