Page 29 of The Greek Villa

‘Well, maybe it is just a romantic notion,’ I grudgingly admit. ‘But a stone wall is just so boring.’

‘It is your house, if that is what you want, you should have it,’ Dimitri concedes. ‘I am not a metal worker, but I know someone who is. Maybe you could visit his yard with me and look at some examples of his work and give him a sketch of your ideas?’

‘Sure, okay, that sounds like a good idea.’

I’m quickly learning that my own ideas of a house here, and what is actually practical, may be two different things, yet I yearn for a pretty holiday home near the sea.

Phoebe appears then at the front, with a huge melon cut into pieces on a platter. It’s almost noon and the sun is getting up fiercely in the bright-blue sky, so the melon is gratefully received by the men, who make short work of it.

‘And if they get tired. The ouzo,’ Phoebe advises with a wink. ‘One shot, to revive, no more.’

‘Thanks, Phoebe. Definitely no more. I don’t fancy managing a bunch of drunken builders,’ I say, and she laughs.

The lady across the road with the dark curls is outside once more, brandishing her brush and sweeping some fallen leaves from a tree. I wave over and she waves back.

‘Is she your friend?’ I ask Phoebe, noting there seems to be very little interaction with the women, even though they appear to be of a similar age.

‘No,’ she tells me flatly.

‘Did you fall out?’ I ask Phoebe, who says she needs the empty melon platter, before turning and heading back into the villa.

‘I tell you sometime,’ she says as I follow her, letting me know the subject is closed.

‘So tomorrow. You will be busy here?’ she asks.

‘Yes. I am kind of making sure everything is going okay, although I must admit I feel a bit like a spare part.’

‘A spare part of what?’

‘It’s just a saying. It means I feel a bit useless.’

‘Tomorrow it is Sunday, my granddaughter and her son, they come here. We drive out for a picnic to a nice park. Would you like to come?’ she offers.

‘That sounds really lovely, Phoebe, thanks.’

I’m sure my absence from the project won’t be felt for a few hours. Besides, is there anything more important than getting to know my new neighbours?

Phoebe heads inside then, glancing briefly at the lady across the road, who turns her back and walks into her house, and I wonder what has happened between them.

A few hours pass, and other than me brushing up and placing lots of wooden debris into a skip and nipping to a local shop for iced cold water, there isn’t an awful lot that I can do. Soon enough it’s time to pack up for the day.

‘Phoebe reminded me it is Sunday tomorrow so I take it you won’t be working?’ I say to Dimitri as the day draws to a close.

‘Normally, no, but I will be here in the morning with Yiannis,’ he reassures me.

‘Right. Well, Phoebe has invited me out for a picnic with her granddaughter, if that’s okay?’

‘Absolutely not,’ he says flatly. ‘You are the project manager, I believe is the title.’

‘But I’m sure you can manage, I—’

He bursts out laughing then. ‘I am joking. You are the boss. Have a nice time.’

‘Right, well, yes, thanks I will, although I will be here to check in. I hope it doesn’t rain.’ I glance up at the gaping hole in the roof, although the builders have already begun placing wooden slats across it.

‘It is May,’ says Dimitri, smiling as he heads to his van with Yiannis. ‘There should be no rain. And it is unusually warm,’ he reminds me.

He takes a wallet from his pocket and pays the two young labourers in cash, and they head off.

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