Page 52 of Hot Greek Summer

Frankie gasped and gripped Stella’s fingers hard enough to stop her circulation, and Winnie caught up a few seconds later when their new guests strolled in, already looking as if they’d spent the last six months in a five-star resort, thanks to their expensive luggage, metro scarves and leather jewellery.

‘Shut your mouth, Frank, you’re gaping,’ Winnie said through her fixed smile, gazing at the same faces that had adorned their bedroom walls, Frankie’s most of all, as teenage girls. There was a time around her fifteenth birthday when she’d seriously considered changing her surname to Manson just so she could tell everyone she was married to Seth, the lead singer of Tryx. The very same Seth Manson who’d just approached the reception desk.

Frankie made a smart grab for the pen right out of Winnie’s fingers and nudged her sideways with her hip, greeting Seth with what she probably hoped was a cool-girl smile and weird, tiny wave.

‘I’m Frankie,’ she said, shoving her hand out. ‘Welcome.’

‘Seth,’ he said, firing Frankie the killer dimpled smile that had had grown women fainting in stadiums around the world. Tryx had split up after six hugely successful years together back in the 90s, but had recently reformed and were riding high in the charts all over again.

‘I know who you are,’ Frankie blurted, still gripping his hand tightly between both of hers until Winnie jabbed her in the ribs with her elbow.

‘Why don’t I deal with the booking in while you grab some refreshments?’ Winnie suggested, sending Frankie a clear ‘go to the kitchen this minute and pull yourself together’ glance in case she frightened their fabulous new guests away.

Frankie thankfully seemed to get the message, reluctantly letting go of Seth’s hand and glancing at her palms as she walked away as if she was considering how to never wash them again.

‘Is it best if I book you in as Smith, Brown and Williams?’ she said, looking up into the three familiar faces. If she were to be brutally honest with them, which obviously she wasn’t going to be, then she’d been more of a Blur kind of girl herself, but it was undeniably thrilling to think that Tryx had chosen to come here of all places.

‘Probably,’ Seth said, nodding. ‘We’d like to keep a pretty low profile if we can. It’s kind of a working holiday, somewhere off the beaten track to write the next album.’

It was more information than Winnie needed or expected; he seemed far more relaxed in person than he did whenever she’d caught him being interviewed on TV.

‘Well, I hope you can make time for a little R&R too,’ she said, twisting the booking form around and handing him the pen. ‘Skelidos is famous for its island gin.’

Seth glanced over his shoulder quickly to make sure the others hadn’t heard her, then looked back with a brief but definite shake of his head. Winnie narrowed her eyes, trying to keep up with the silent conversation they’d become involved in as Seth drew his finger across his neck and tipped his head slowly to indicate his bandmates. Winnie followed the nod and found herself watching Mikey Miller and Jamie Harte, the other two thirds of Tryx, laughing over something on Jamie’s phone. And then the penny dropped; Mikey Miller was notorious for his wild party lifestyle and drinking habits. Seth Manson clearly didn’t want him to get wind of the fact that Skelidos was known for its gin, or no doubt the only thing Mikey would be interested in would be tracking down a supply. Suddenly nervous, Winnie flicked her eyes towards the hallway and the cellar beyond it with its robust stock of gin. Note to self: keep the door locked at all times and under no circumstances was anyone to mention the secret distillery beneath their feet.

‘Let me show you where your rooms are,’ she said, deciding it was best to get them all upstairs out of sight so she could brief Frankie and Stella.

On that, Frankie reappeared bearing a tray of three sparkling and very large G&Ts.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

‘And now he’s sleeping his hangover off and probably going to have a banging headache in the morning,’ Winnie finished, having regaled the afternoon’s events to The Fonz, who regarded her benignly as he and Chachi ate the apples she’d quartered for them.

‘Sounds like someone’s had a good time.’

Winnie didn’t instantly turn around. She hadn’t seen Jesse at all since he’d left the villa so abruptly after hanging their new sign on Monday, even though she’d made the time to come and spend a little time with The Fonz every day and it was now Friday evening.

One large G&T had led to four or five more, in Mikey’s case at least, and poor old Frank had been oblivious to the trouble she’d caused as she made a big production about how special Skelidos gin was and that welcome drinks out on the terrace were of course on the house. It wasn’t her fault. She was completely wowed by the presence of the object of her teenage affections, and in truth it was kind of intoxicating having three such well-known celebrities all to themselves for the afternoon out on the terrace in the sunshine. Last month The Mall at the Queen’s birthday celebrations, last week Wembley with fifty thousand screaming fans, today Villa Valentina with three English women who couldn’t quite wrap their heads around it. It was quite a leap.

‘Depends on your description of a good time,’ Winnie said, scratching The Fonz behind the ears. ‘I think Fonzy likes me a bit better lately. I might try to take him home again in a few days.’

When Jesse didn’t answer, she turned to look at him. ‘Have you been avoiding me?’

If he was surprised by her directness, he didn’t show it.

‘I work, Winnie. I don’t have the luxury of taking a break whenever I feel like it to chat to passing neighbours or to try to seduce a donkey who’s perfectly content where he is.’

‘By which you mean to say that I clearly don’t have enough to fill my time,’ she said.

‘You have one guest between three of you.’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t expect you’re rushed off your feet over there, no.’

Stung, Winnie squared her arms across her chest. ‘Four now, actually. And what do you mean, perfectly content? That I should leave him here?’

‘He’s happy.’

‘He’s ours.’

‘Donkeys are herd animals. He’ll be lonely without Chachi.’

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