Page 39 of Not My Greek Wedding

As we are about to leave, a young woman arrives and joins him behind the counter. They chat to each other in Greek, as the throng of day trippers make their way around the shop, searching for gifts.

‘Can we get that lunch now, I’m starving,’ I ask as we leave the shop with our gifts.

‘Yep, let’s go,’ says Lulu.

‘Thanks again,’ I say, but Andreas is busy serving someone else and barely glances up as we leave. It was nice to chat to him and he seems happy creating sculptures and selling some in his lovely shop. Maybe there’s something to following your passions and having a simple life?

SEVENTEEN

We manage to find a seat at a place down a side street that looks smart but casual, and without the eye-watering prices of some of the other restaurants in prime locations.

Sitting and relaxing in the sun, surrounded by plants on a pretty stone patio, I find myself thinking about Andreas and his talent. I also wonder why his father does not encourage it. Maybe he is like my father, who doesn’t think being a social media influencer is a ‘proper’ job either. Although he does have a point, unless you can earn a living from it, I guess. Even then, it can be short-lived.

We both choose a tasty chicken dish, cooked in a tomato and ouzo sauce, that comes with salad and fries that we will wash down with ice-cold lemonade. I have just finished taking a quick photo, when my phone pings. It’s a text from Christos asking me if I am free tomorrow.

‘Everything okay?’ asks Lulu, noticing me quietly staring at my phone.

‘It’s Christos, asking if I am free tomorrow.’

Much as I would love to see him again, I don’t want Lulu to be left on her own. I did invite her here with me after all.

‘I will tell him I have plans.’

‘No, you go for it,’ she insists as our food arrives. ‘I might take things easy tomorrow anyway, after all the walking today. And with it being the time of the month.’ She grimaces.

‘Are you sure?’ I feel excited by the prospect of a day out with Christos, but only if my friend doesn’t mind.

‘Absolutely,’ she assures me. ‘I would love nothing more than a beach day. Really, you go out and have some fun.’

‘In that case, I will tell him I am free.’ I feel a surge of excitement as I tap out a reply, telling him I am available, and he tells me he will collect me from my apartment at ten in the morning.

‘Gosh, I wonder where he is going to take you,’ says Lulu as she sips her drink. ‘Somewhere smart, I’d say.’

‘Do you think so? Oh my goodness, I don’t know what to wear now,’ I panic. ‘What if it’s somewherereallysmart?’

‘You look great in anything,’ she says kindly. ‘And you have lots of lovely clothes with you. Maybe a nice dress, and those white sparkly trainers, just in case it involves walking, an outfit like that could take you anywhere.’

‘Sounds good. Can I hire you as my personal stylist?’ I say, popping a chunk of salty feta from a Greek salad into my mouth.

‘I don’t think you need me.’ She laughs. ‘Not if all your followers are anything to go by, they love your style.’

When the bill arrives, Lulu insists on getting it, despite my protestations.

‘No, really I want to,’ she says firmly. ‘It isn’t the most expensive restaurant around here, and it’s the least I can do after you inviting me to be your plus-one. I only paid for my flight and spends,’ she reminds me.

‘Thanks, Lulu, and I hope you are enjoying yourself,’ I say as I finish the delicious meal.

‘I really am.’ She smiles. ‘It’s exactly what I needed, yet I didn’t realise it,’ she tells me as she wipes her mouth with anapkin. ‘It was a harsh reality to hear that I run around after my children a bit too much, yet I knew it deep down,’ she admits. ‘Do you know, Chloe would never take a bus anywhere, and I indulged her, giving her lifts at the drop of a hat. My parents would never have done that for me, especially during daylight hours.’

‘I understand you wanting to help, but they have to learn to stand on their own two feet. Maybe you could start by refusing to be a taxi during daylight hours when there is plenty of public transport,’ I suggest.

‘I know, and she seems to be able to do just that, when she is with her friends. Do you know, whenever I text her she doesn’t reply for hours on end as she’s doing her own thing, ditto Tom,’ she says with a sigh of resignation. ‘It makes me realise that I don’t want to be one of those mothers who lives their life through their children,’ she says firmly. ‘I need to get one of my own.’

‘Exactly.’ I reach over and gently squeeze her hand. ‘And I know a certain bloke who would be happy to help you do just that.’

‘Who knows?’ She shrugs. ‘Maybe I would be open to that. If Phil likes me as much as you seem to think he does.’

‘I’m pretty sure of it.’

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