Page 31 of Not My Greek Wedding

‘Buying wine for another man while you were on a date though?’ I raise an eyebrow. ‘So the date really was nothing more than a pleasant outing?’

‘I’m afraid so. Don’t get me wrong, Ash was very attentive, but I don’t think there was any chemistry between us,’ she admits. ‘By the end of the date, I think he realised that too.’ She shrugs. ‘But it was a lovely day, all the same.’

‘I’m glad you had fun, although it’s a shame you never really connected,’ I tell my friend, feeling pleased she is at least dipping her toe into the dating world again.

‘It’s fine.’ She smiles. ‘He and Bryn are back off to Australia anyway in a few days, so I don’t think it was ever going to go anywhere.’

‘That’s true, although maybe it’s also because you have someone else on your mind,’ I suggest, thinking of Phil, and she laughs but doesn’t protest.

‘Come on, let’s go,’ she says, looping her bag over her shoulder. ‘Before you let that fertile imagination of yours run away with you.’

We are perched on bar stools, marvelling at our surroundings and the mesmerising ball of sun in the sky. We were lucky to get a seat at the elevated bar that gives such great views, having arrived just as a couple had vacated their seats.

At nine thirty, it’s a little early to head to the nightspot so we chat easily, slowly sipping our soft drinks, having decided to save ourselves for a couple of cocktails later in the club. I can hardly wait.

Down on the streets below, crowds of tourists dressed casually in shorts and T-shirts are milling around, taking photos and weaving their way along footpaths. Others are dressed to impress and clearly out to dine at fine restaurants for the evening. I love watching the mixture of people, all out to enjoy themselves.

Earlier, we had passed a long queue of people patiently waiting to enter a very popular eatery, that is so well known it doesn’t take bookings.

‘Do you reckon that’s a genuine Gucci bag?’ Lulu points to a woman weaving her way along a crazy-paved footpath, dressed immaculately, with a partner who looks equally well turned out.

‘Probably. But then the fakes are so good who can really tell?’ I reply, thinking of my little blue-leather dupe bag that I bought from the shopping mall back home. ‘Although, yes, I would say it is probably genuine. Those highlights look as though they have been administered by a stylist at a premium salon,’ I say, admiring her butter-soft streaked hair.

It’s so wonderful here, just people watching and making up little scenarios about the people that pass, something I also like to do back home. We never really know what is truly going on in someone’s life though, despite outward appearances. I marvel at how the human spirit has most of us still managing to put one foot in front of the other each day and getting out there.

‘It’s lovely here, but I’m kind of glad we are staying in Perissa,’ says Lulu, sipping her drink.

‘Really?’ I say, a little surprised. ‘But it’s absolutely stunning here.’

‘Yeah, I mean it’s beautiful, sure, but does it have any heart?’ she muses. ‘It’s almost too picture perfect.’

‘Hence the crowds and their cameras.’ I nod to a tourist clicking away, and really think I ought to consider investing in a decent camera.

‘Not to mention the poseurs.’ Lulu laughs and for some reason a picture of Christos pops into my mind. Still, I imagine a guy like him knows how to treat a girl on a date. Imagine being collected in his Porsche and whisked off somewhere exciting. I can only dream.

‘Oh, I don’t know, I would love to live here.’ I sigh as I glance around. ‘Although I can’t imagine nipping out to the corner shop for a pint of milk in a pair of old leggings.’ I laugh. ‘I mean, do people actually live here, and do such things, I wonder?’

‘They must do,’ says Lulu. ‘Maybe it’s very different in the winter months.’

I think of Christos and his family home once more, which is surely like something from a glossy magazine, as didn’t he tell me his father owned many businesses here in Santorini? I idly wonder whether I will ever get to see a glimpse of his home. Or maybe Christos has his own apartment somewhere. Gosh what am I thinking?

I cast my eyes around the bar, observing the stylish couples, some men with expensive hair transplants. Well, possibly, as some of them look well into their fifties. I guess it’s hard to tell these days, what with so many cosmetic procedures so readily available.

‘Talking of cameras though, we simply have to have a photo of that backdrop,’ I say, turning my camera onto us both, withthe startling sky behind that is beginning to turn indigo, the sun quickly disappearing. They sky is so clear, a million twinkling stars will appear later in a navy night sky.

‘May I?’

A passing waiter offers to take our photo, so we give our best pout as he snaps away with my camera phone. I thank him, then quickly upload the photo to TikTok.

An hour later, having had a gentle stroll along the winding, cobbled streets, we hear the gentle thrum of music as we approach the cool-looking nightclub that has a cave-like entrance. My stomach rolls a little at the thought of seeing Christos again, but I remind myself that he was probably just being courteous when he offered us a free cocktail. Even so, I reapply some lip gloss and spray on some more perfume before we enter the club.

Inside, the space is cavernous, dimly lit and extremely stylish.

A long bar displaying every kind of drink against a mirrored backdrop has several people sitting on bar stools, sipping drinks.

As we explore further, we pass booths with red-leather banquettes and in the middle of the room is a DJ playing club tunes from an elevated platform.

‘Wow, this place is seriously cool,’ says Lulu. ‘I feel ancient though.’

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