Page 24 of Not My Greek Wedding

‘Gran!’ I can’t help but laugh. Especially as she would be in her sixties even twenty years ago.

‘So how was the wedding?’ she asks.

‘Oh, it was wonderful,’ I tell her, recalling the event that was just about perfect. ‘Tasha and Owen looked fabulous, so happy.’

‘I look forward to seeing your pics on that Instantgram,’ she says.

‘Instagram, Gran,’ I correct her, laughing once more.

‘Well, whatever. I’m sure your followers will love it. Santorini is very popular, I believe.’

‘It is. And thanks, Gran. I’ll post some pics tomorrow, just not the wedding ones until the official ones are out there,’ I tell her. ‘But I can send you one of Tash and Owen that I took myself. Just don’t post it anywhere.’

‘Don’t worry about that, love. I wouldn’t know how.’ She chuckles.

Just then, Mum comes into view, depositing some tea and biscuits down in front of Gran and we have a little chat.

‘Perhaps we could do a little family holiday to Greece next year.’ She smiles.

‘I’d love that, Mum.’

It would be lovely for Gran to come too, but she is so unsteady on her feet these days. Still, you never know.

‘Okay, well enjoy the rest of your holiday and give my congratulations to Tasha and Owen,’ says Mum, before she ends the call.

Half an hour later, we are across the road at the Sea Breeze, where Patsy and Irene are enjoying a cocktail and I wonder where this pair get their energy from.

‘Ooh here you are,’ says Irene with a beaming smile. ‘I highly recommend this,’ she says, lifting her drink. ‘It’s an ouzo-based cocktail,’ she informs us.

‘Oh nooo, not for me,’ I say, recalling a bad experience with too much ouzo at a Greek restaurant back home that I have no desire to repeat.

‘So what are you ladies up to tomorrow?’ asks Patsy. ‘We thought we might have a lazy morning, then head up to Oia later in the day for the sunset views. There’s a trip going from the hotel, leaving at around four, including a light dinner. The restaurant balcony is a prime location for the sunset apparently.’

‘That does sound lovely, but I kind of fancied a day exploring the streets of Fira tomorrow. What do you fancy doing?’ I turn to Lulu.

‘Actually, yes, I like the sound of exploring Fira, I believe there are lots of little shops and galleries there,’ she agrees.

‘Okay, just thought we’d ask.’ Irene smiles. ‘Maybe see you back for a nightcap when we return.’ She winks.

Diners all around are enjoying delicious-looking food, and the tantalising smell makes my stomach rumble a little. It’s been hours since we ate at the wedding, so we decide to order some food.

We have the most relaxed evening tucking into calamari, drizzled with lemon and parsley and a huge Greek salad dotted with olives and salty feta to share. Warm pittas and dips jostle for space on the table, and we tuck in hungrily.

‘I don’t know why I’m so hungry, perhaps it’s the sea air,’ Irene says as she polishes off some complimentary honey cake at the end of the meal.

‘Well, it was hours ago since we ate at the wedding,’ I remind her.

‘You’re too kind.’ She smiles. ‘I just can’t seem to stop eating. I’ve tried to lose weight, of course, it’s no good carrying extra weight in this heat.’ She admits. ‘I think it all started after Malcolm died, even though I was still angry with him.’ She sighs.‘Some people drown their sorrows; I ate my way out of grief. I still am, truth be told.’

‘As long as you’re happy,’ ventures Lulu.

‘And are you?’ I ask honestly.

‘That’s the thing though, no, I’m not.’ She says honestly. ‘But I just sort of give up, as it’s like climbing a mountain. I make a little progress, then slip back,’ she admits.

‘I know someone who could help you with that, if you like. Are you on Instagram?’ I ask.

‘What, no I’m only just on Facebook.’ She laughs. ‘And even that I hardly bother with. Why do you ask?’

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