Page 78 of The Little Greek Guesthouse

‘So, this is good news,’ Eirini said. ‘In case you have been thinking about all that he did.’

‘Yes. I mean – I’ve got other things on my mind, now. But this is good to know, I won’t lie.’

Eirini nodded. ‘You are busy with this guesthouse.’

‘Exactly,’ Nina said, trying to banish the image of George’s geeky grin from her mind.

They ate calamari and Greek salad, and Nina told Eirini all about her plans for the guesthouse, the décor she was planning, the meals they would cook, the outings they would offer the guests. Eirini approved of it all. She talked about her work and the children. She told Nina the story of how she and Alex had kept meeting at the market, buying fresh fish and locally grown vegetables, until eventually he had plucked up the courage to offer to cook her a meal with those fish and veggies. They had never looked back.

Nina and Eirini talked on. Afternoon became evening, coffees became a bottle of wine. And by the time Nina walked back, tottering just a little, she was feeling perfectly content.

George was home with his wife; not how she’d hoped things between them would work out, to say the least. But she had her girlfriends – Heather always just a FaceTime away, and now a blossoming friendship with Eirini. She had Baba. And they had the house in Metalios. What could be better?

Chapter Thirty-Five

Life took on a new pattern. The house took shape, and each new item sent a thrill through Nina as the guesthouse of her dreams began to materialise around her. She and Theo worked hard, painting shutters and fitting furniture. He was in the process of finalising all the paperwork.

After working all day, Nina walked on the beach. A group of people gathered next to a row of paddleboards laid out on the sand, and a woman in a wetsuit seemed to be instructing them. Nina watched as they all went out to sea, learning how to stand on the boards with varying levels of success.

The instructor waved. ‘Yassas.’

Nina walked over. ‘This looks great,’ she said.

‘You want to try?’ the woman asked, switching to fluent English.

Nina grinned. Setting up the guesthouse was gratifying, but she’d missed the thrill of climbing and cliff jumping, the tranquillity of snorkelling with the turtles. She nodded, kicking off her shoes, thankful she was wearing shorts and a t-shirt.

She soon learned how to adjust her paddle to the right height and attach the leash to her ankle. As instructed, she carried the board into knee-high water and knelt on it. She paddled out to deeper water, smiling at the other people who were learning. By the end of the session she’d learned how to turn the board and, after many failed attempts that ended up with her underwater, stand on it.

‘That was great!’ she said, laughing as she wrung out her soaking hair. ‘Thank you so much.’

‘Maybe bring a towel and change of clothes next time, eh?’ the instructor replied with a grin.

‘Sounds like a good plan! I’ll be here, anyway.’ The sun was warm enough that Nina was already beginning to dry out; she was glad to have had a cooling dip in the sea, even if it was accidental. ‘You know, I live just up there.’ She pointed to the house, visible on the hillside from the beach. The instructor shaded her eyes and looked to where Nina pointed. ‘My baba and I, we’re turning it into a guesthouse, and I’m thinking it would be great to offer people lessons from you when they come, what do you think?’

The woman nodded enthusiastically. ‘Sounds good.’

‘Brilliant! I’ll talk to Baba and get back to you with –’

‘Nina!’

She turned at the sound of someone calling her name, and the instructor went to help the others put their boards away. A chill prickled Nina’s skin; she recognised the voice that had called her.

Maria was wearing her swimsuit and hat. She dropped the paddleboard she was carrying with a thud and hurried over.

‘You are trying the paddleboarding now?’

Nina’s heart thudded. She had planned, should she bump into Maria, to tell her exactly what she thought of her and her cheating grandson. But she found, as she looked into Maria’s eager eyes, that words failed her.

The old woman sighed. ‘You are angry with me, this is why you haven’t been coming for the cooking lessons or to learn Greek like we planned. I know this.’ She nodded sadly. ‘But everything isn’t what you think, George is not this bad boy, he has been hurt and he struggles with the –’

Nina held up her hand. ‘I don’t care about any of that,’ she said. ‘He’s married, Maria. And you should have told me.’

‘No, but this is not what you –’ Maria protested, but Nina walked away, leaving her looking forlorn.

Theo gave her a strange look as she walked in, dry now, although her hair was tangled and stiff with salt.

‘What’s up with you?’ she asked suspiciously. She couldn’t read his expression.