Page 29 of Not My Greek Wedding

‘You wouldn’t have noticed, but when you were gazing out to sea, he could hardly take his eyes off you,’ insists Patsy.

‘If you say so. Anyway, come on, let’s have a little stroll,’ says Irene, unconvinced.

An abundance of restaurants line the cobbled beach road, along with fashion shops and tour operators offering trips to ancient Fira and Oia to watch the sunset. Souvenir shops offer up the usual Greek gifts, such as ouzo and Greek herbs, for tourists to take home.

‘This is gorgeous, isn’t it?’ says Irene, taking in the palm trees dotted along the promenade that overlooks the long stretch of black beach, set against the backdrop of the mountains.

‘Everything I have seen so far is beautiful.’ I sigh.

‘Including Christos?’ she teases.

‘He’s undeniably good-looking, but I wasn’t thinking about him.’ I roll my eyes, even though truthfully, I have thought of him rather a lot.

‘If you say so.’ She grins.

I take a photo of us at the small, bustling harbour and shortly afterwards, the grey-haired gent from the boat appears again, as we peruse garments on rails outside a clothes shop. ‘I’d say that suits your colouring,’ says the bloke, who Patsy said is a dead ringer for an older actor onEmmerdale.

‘Do you think so?’ Irene visibly blushes as her fingers run over the blue and cream coloured scarf.

‘Definitely.’ He smiles. ‘What time will you be heading back?’ he asks, glancing at his watch.

‘We will be catching the boat in a couple of hours, I suppose,’ I suggest, and the others agree.

‘The four o’clock one?’

‘Probably, yes,’ says Irene.

‘Oh, me too,’ he says, before asking her where we are staying in Perissa.

I glance at Irene, who looks a little uncertain about telling him.

‘Look, I’m very flattered, but I will be spending time with my friends, we only have a few days left here,’ she tells him, with a polite smile.

‘I understand. I suppose I could be anyone.’ He laughs. ‘Although I promise you, I’m not an axe murderer. Not with all these crowds,’ he jokes. ‘Well anyway, it was a pleasure to meet you. Maybe I will see you around.’

‘Perhaps. Bye then.’

‘I wouldn’t mind you know, if you decide to spend a bit of time with a bloke,’ says Patsy as we walk along the harbour front. ‘It might remind you that you are not past it.’ She laughs.

‘Past it?’ Irene says indignantly, standing tall. ‘I’m sixty-two, that’s all, and isn’t sixty meant to be the new fifty? Maybe I just didn’t like him.’

‘Fine, whatever,’ says Patsy, fishing a vape from her bag and taking a quick drag.

An hour later, we have stopped to look at a menu outside a restaurant, with a view of fishing boats bobbing in the glistening water, when a friendly waiter ushers us inside. I grab a selfie with the colourful boats in the background, while Patsy studies the drinks menu.

‘And by the way, I don’t doubt the guy on the boat seemed like a nice bloke,’ says Irene, obviously mulling things over as weawait our drinks. ‘But I’ve told you, I’m sure he was just being friendly,’ she says. ‘And nothing more.’

‘Why wouldn’t he be interested in you romantically?’ Patsy asks.

‘Well, I am hardly Kate Moss, am I?’ Irene says with a laugh.

‘Oh, give over, and he was hardly George Clooney. Honestly, Irene, are you ever going to loosen up and have a little fun? You’re a bit overweight, big deal.’ She takes another a drag of her vape. ‘Does that mean you stop yourself from ever meeting someone? That guy was obviously interested in you, and you gave him the cold shoulder,’ she tells her cousin.

‘Do you think so?’ asks Irene doubtfully, as she digests Patsy’s words.

‘You know he was. So, either give up on men, which as I recall you always rather liked.’

Irene opens her mouth to protest.

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