Page 15 of Not My Greek Wedding

‘Well that’s a relief, I suppose.’

I hope Tom realises how lucky he is to have a caring mum like Lulu.

‘I’m pleased he’s okay.’ I smile. ‘And now you know that is the case, I hope you can relax and enjoy your time here.’

‘Oh, I will do,’ she assures me. ‘This break is exactly what I need.’

Back at the apartment, while Lulu takes a quick shower, I text Patsy and ask if she and Irene are okay.

She texts me back saying they are downstairs and about to have a Bloody Mary as a ‘hair of the dog’.

I suggest meeting in the lobby in half an hour, so we can all go out for breakfast together and she sends me a thumbs up emoji, alongside an angry face, which I am pretty sure she has sent in error. Surely, I am not such unpleasant company?

When Lulu is out of the shower, she fishes her phone from her bag that has been ringing, and begins chatting to Chloe. I can see a crease form in her forehead as she talks.

‘I thought you were going to keep that in your bag,’ I remind her.

‘Oh, I know, and I will now.’ She smiles.

‘Is everything okay?’ I ask.

‘Oh yes, it was just Chloe asking me where something was at home.’

Give me strength.

‘Anyway, maybe you ought to do the same. With your phone, I mean.’ She laughs.

‘Well, I would, but I need to take photos for my social media pages, you know that. I certainly won’t be on it all the time though,’ I reassure her, feeling a little stung by her remark.

‘Me neither.’ She smiles.

Surely taking a photo here and there is hardly the same as having grown-up children pestering you when you are meant to be having a well-earned break, is it? Although I refrain from saying this out loud.

Talk of phones soon disappears as we enjoy a breakfast at the Sea Breeze restaurant across the road that overlooks the sparkling sea, the morning sun gently dusting the water.

Greek yoghurts, honey, and an assortment of fruit and pastries jostle for space on the table, alongside jugs of fresh orange juice. Patsy and Irene are having a Bloody Mary with a celery stick poking out.

‘A virgin one for me,’ says Irene, raising her glass of tomato juice. ‘I shouldn’t have had that large ouzo as a nightcap last night,’ she continues with a groan. ‘I have the faintest of headaches this morning.’

‘No one was forcing you,’ Patsy reminds her. ‘Although mine has no alcohol in it either. I’m saving myself for a glass of champagne at the wedding.’

‘I will be fine,’ says Irene, slathering a hunk of seeded brown bread with butter and honey. ‘A bit of breakfast will sort me out.’

I ask a waiter to take a group photo of us, and I send it to Tasha before giving her a video call.

‘Good morning, how are we?’ I ask.

Tasha is having a coffee on the balcony. Owen has gone for a swim in the indoor pool, before having a Turkish shave, she tells me.

‘I feel nervous, happy. Oh, I can’t wait to see you all!’ she says excitedly. ‘And thank you for last night, it was just wonderful, and thanks to me abstaining from alcohol, I feel as fresh as a daisy,’ she says.

I tell her we will be there before she knows it, and we all wave and I introduce her to Lulu before I end the call.

Irene is dabbing at her face with a tissue, as at nine o’clock the sun can already be felt.

‘This must be the beginning of the bloomin’ heatwave,’ she says, pouring herself a glass of water. ‘I’ll have to make sure I have my fan with me, although I can’t really have it whirring around during the marriage vows, can I?’ She sighs.

‘No, you can’t,’ says Patsy. ‘There’s a shop across the road that I’m sure sells some traditional fans, you will have to make do with one of those.’

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