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‘So? What do you think?’ asked Heidi, a whisper of anxiety in her voice.
‘It’s perfect. What’s in it?’
‘Vodka, crème de menthe, cucumber, and mint. I’ve called it theGreen Gable Goddess.’
‘Delicious.’
Next in line was a tall slender woman with a halo of blonde curls wearing a pair of loose denim dungarees with the skimpiest of bra-tops underneath. Suzie tipped her head to the side to read the title of her book and was surprised to see that it wasThe Hobbit.
‘Hi, Robyn. I’ve made aDark Dragon Daiquirifor you.’
Heidi poured a pink-hued cocktail from a shaker into a wide-brimmed glass, added a slice of lime, and handed it to Robyn with a beaming smile.
‘Erm, what are the black bits, darling?’
‘They’re from the dragon fruit, of course.’
‘Of course.’
Suzie watched Robyn take a sip of her cocktail, her eyes watering a little when the alcohol hit the back of her throat. However, that didn’t prevent her from taking another swift gulp so she could top up her glass with the liquid that remained in Heidi’s shaker, before claiming her seat in the book club circle where the conversation had morphed from gentle mumble to high-pitched hilarity.
After handing a bright red cocktail to a woman whose favourite book wasGone with the Wind, and aCappuccino Cloudto Katerina in honour of her obsession with all-things coffee related, it was Suzie’s turn, and when she tasted what Heidi had created for her, she grinned with delight.
‘Mmm, I love it.’
‘I’ve called it aPharaoh Fizz. It’s Prosecco with a splash of cherry brandy.’
‘It’s perfect, thank you. By the way, did you get any tips from the guy at the taverna?’
‘His name’s Nathan, apparently, and I did ask him, but he was a bit vague.’
‘Maybe he was worried you’d pinch his recipes.’
‘Maybe.’
‘Come on, Suzie, I’ll introduce you to Miranda before the meeting starts,’ Katerina said, pulling Suzie away.
Suzie followed her to where Miranda was finishing her chocolate martini, running the tip of her tongue along her lower lip to collect the last dribble of the cocoa-infused vodka.
She estimated their host to be in her early-to-mid fifties, but her matching silk-blouse-and-cashmere-cardigan-combo spoke of an older woman. Maybe she was just someone who had more important things to do than worry about the latest fashions?
With her hair styled into a neat bob the colour of butterscotch, her makeup consisting of just a slick of brown mascara and a dash of pale peach lipstick, and a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles dangling on a chain at her chest, she looked exactly how Suzie thought a bookshop owner would look, until she remembered that Miranda was only filling in while her cousin was at a wedding in Cornwall.
‘Miranda, this is Suzie, Amber’s sister. Suzie, this is Miranda Parker.’
‘It’s good to meet you, Suzie, Amber has told me so much about you.’
Again, Suzie cringed, praying that her sister had been judicious when sharing details of her background, just as she had when she’d been talking about her to Katerina.
‘It’s good to meet you, too. Thank you for letting me come along to your very first book club.’
‘The more the merrier. Oh, and I’ve found this for you.’ Miranda handed her a well-thumbed copy ofDeath on the Nile. ‘Right, I’ll just ask Heidi for a refill, and we’ll get started.’
***
The next two hours were filled with a little bit of book chat and a whole load of gossip about subjects as diverse as dating, divorce and whether theDirty Dancingfilm had deserved an Oscar. As the evening wore on and the cocktails continued to flow, the conversation became more personal, touching on issues of failing marriages, the menopause, and how meditation could change your life for the better. The noise level was so high that Suzie was having difficulty following Robyn’s story about spending the previous year learning how to ride a motorbike, which had culminated in her recent wedding to her instructor who was a big fan of fantasy novels, hence the reason she had brought along a copy ofThe Hobbit.
After her thirdPharoah Fizz, Suzie decided it was time to switch to sparkling water, otherwise she feared she wouldn’t be able to remember the way home through the maze of winding streets that made up the town of Oia – especially in the dark – and would end up spending the night on someone’s doorstep, although it didn’t look like anyone else shared the fear of losing their navigational compass.
