Page 60 of All You Need is Greece

‘Ladies, good morning.’ Helena appears then, but Panos is chatting to the delivery driver, who has just delivered the cases of bottled beer, seemingly in no hurry to say hello to us.

We chat to Helena for a few minutes, asking if we can offer any help, but once more she tells us everything is sorted for this evening.

‘What did you say to Gran?’ I ask Hannah as we walk on.

‘“Poly oraia”. It means “very nice”,’ she says. I can’t help noticing that she sounds a little flat.

‘So you are remembering some Greek words. Are you still exchanging emails with Panos?’

‘Not as much,’ she tells me. ‘I have been studying online a little.’

‘Have you fallen out with him?’ I ask, as we approach a bench in the forest that overlooks a stream.

‘Not exactly. Well, at least I didn’t think so, but he wasn’t exactly in a rush to say hello this morning, was he?’

‘I did notice. Although he was taking delivery of some drinks,’ I remind her, even though they had finished up, and were clearly just having a chat.

‘I suppose so. Anyway. I wouldn’t blame him if he has cooled off, I have kind of been giving him mixed messages.’ She sighs. ‘I was so keen not to fall for him, I’m worried I might have come off as a little rude.’

I wonder whether he will be here this evening, tending the bar, or whether has been invited out on the fishing trip.

‘Then maybe honesty is the best policy. Tell him the truth.’

‘What? That I decided to cool things as I was falling for him?’ She looks horrified.

‘Would you like me to tell him?’

‘NO. Beth, really, promise you won’t say anything, he will think I am a right idiot. Besides, I am over it now. I’ll be home before you know it.’

‘If you say so.’

‘I do,’ she says firmly, although her eyes tell a different story.

Back at the rescue, my phone signal comes back to life and I hear a beep in my pocket. It’s Marco sending me a row of hearts in a text message. I send a red lips emoji back and slide the phone back into my pocket.

Doll is in the kitchen glugging down some cold water, before fanning herself with a hand fan, as Judith has turned the air conditioning off now as autumn approaches.

‘Hi, Doll, are you okay?’

‘Hello, Beth, I’m just a bit hot. I’ll be alright, though.’ She plasters a smile on her face.

‘You’re not ill, are you?’ I ask, thinking she might have a temperature.

‘Ill? Oh no.’ She smiles. ‘At least not in the way you think. It’s the bloody menopause,’ she confides.

She looks far too young to be going through it, although I read inWomen’s Healthmagazine at the shop back home that perimenopause can start in your forties.

‘I’ll be fifty next month,’ she tells me, much to my surprise. ‘Fifty. I’m absolutely bloody dreading it.’

‘Well, you don’t look it, and why are you dreading turning fifty? Isn’t age just a number?’

‘Don’t you believe it. Everything starts falling to bits during menopause. It’s already started. Oh, I’m still fit, but I have to take joint supplements for my knees, and evening primrose oil for hot flushes. They aren’t working yet, though, obviously, as it takes a month or two apparently, if they work at all.’ She sighs. ‘And don’t even get me started on hormonal migraines. And then I read that my two favourite things, wine and cheese, can bring them on. The menopause is designed to suck every bit of joy out of life, I can tell you.’

I’m about to say that most women come through the other side of menopause with the right support but she hasn’t finished yet. ‘And then there’s the brain fog. I literally stop mid-sentence sometimes, and wonder what the hell I am talking about. Men have it easy, I tell you. Apart from having to share a bed with someone who soaks the sheets with sweat every night, that is. Poor Michael almost froze to death last winter when I insisted on having the bedroom windows flung open, even in January.’

‘You should see a doctor if things are that bad. Especially as you still tour.’

‘I might do. I don’t want to stop dancing yet, why should I?’

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