Page 11 of Not My Greek Wedding

‘I think we are pretty spoilt for choice here,’ I say as Irene, Patsy and I stroll along the main street.

It’s just after eight, and the beachfront is full of people out for the evening. Shops displaying all manner of gifts, including the traditional blue and white colours of Greece, sit alongside restaurants offering mouth-watering food, including lamb kleftiko and fresh fish dishes.

We eventually settle on the Acropolis restaurant overlooking a quiet stretch of beach.

‘I’ll sleep well tonight,’ says Irene as we flop down onto some comfy chairs, the restaurant being a good walk away from the apartments.

‘You will be fine, you had a siesta,’ Patsy reminds her as a waiter appears with a menu.

‘So tell me what you have been up to all these years?’ Irene asks as we order a drink and Patsy lights up a vape.

‘Filthy habit,’ she apologises, ‘but it’s got me off the real thing.’

‘Not an awful lot to tell really,’ I admit. ‘I lived with someone for a while, but am currently single and living with my parents. Oh, and I have recently been made redundant.’

I might as well get it all out there now.

‘Oh, never mind, love, you’re young,’ says Irene positively. ‘Something will turn up soon, I’m sure.’

I tell her a little about my social media, but as I speak I realise how uncertain the future seems. My father’s words pop into my head once more, asking me why I don’t concentrate on my singing, which of course I will do, eventually. I just really want to make a go of my social media. If other people can succeed, why can’t I? I do feel a little guilty over the sacrifices my parents made to pay for my singing lessons, but it is definitely something I will return to.

‘Things will work out,’ says Patsy as she puts her vape away. ‘I had no clue about what I wanted to do when I was young. I eventually became a dressmaker,’ she reveals. ‘Anyway, let’s get something to eat, I’m starved.’

We opt for a shared meze and dine on the most delicious selection of food, that includes lamb skewers, meatballs, some assorted dips and pitta bread. The lamb is melt-in-the-mouth tender, the bread soft and the salad crunchy and delicious.

Overlooking the black sand beach, we watch the sun slowly begin to drop as the sky turns darker.

‘It’s so lovely here, isn’t it?’ I sigh, sipping some chilled white wine and glancing around. The gentle sound of the rolling seacan be heard from across the road and I feel myself begin to relax.

A waiter catches my eye as he walks past, and gives me a lingering glance before smiling. I congratulate myself then on having made a bit of an effort this evening.

‘Oh, it is. So romantic too. Not that I am interested in that sort of thing anymore,’ says Irene firmly.

I am about to ask her if she is still married, when the waiter returns with a shot of ouzo for us all.

‘Cheers, everyone,’ says Patsy, raising her tiny glass.

I’m not the biggest fan of ouzo, but raise my glass too.

‘Cheers,’ I say, before knocking back the aniseed-tasting liquid and grimacing slightly.

I think about Irene’s comment before we call it a night, and how she said that something will turn up for me soon on the job front. I hope so to, but for now, I am going to enjoy every second of my time here in Greece.

EIGHT

The following morning there are hugs and squeals all round, as Owen and Tasha arrive in the village to have breakfast with their other wedding guests and make sure they are happy with their accommodation. As Owen chats to someone, Irene mentions a hen party to Tasha.

‘Surely you must have thought about it?’

We are sitting at tables in the Sea Breeze restaurant across the road, filling up several tables as waiters dash around.

‘Oh, Irene, I did think about it, but never really got around to arranging one,’ says Tasha.

‘I don’t mean anything fancy, and definitely no strippers.’ Irene chuckles. ‘I was thinking the four of us could go for a nice meal this evening?’

‘Maybe I ought to have arranged something,’ I say. ‘Sorry for being the most rubbish maid of honour.’

‘Don’t be silly. You being here for the wedding is more than enough, believe me,’ says Tasha kindly. ‘I don’t want to risk a hangover with the wedding being tomorrow, but perhaps we could have an early dinner,’ she muses. ‘In fact, yes that would be really lovely.’

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