Page 66 of Hot Greek Summer

Winnie put the bottle under her nose and inhaled once, then went back in again for a second longer sniff.

‘Smells OK?’ she ventured, not brave enough to call it.

‘Gawd, come on, strain it, will you,’ Stella said. ‘I’m dying here.’

Winnie tipped the bottle slowly, and they all watched the peachy pink spirit slosh into the funnel along with the botanicals.

Lifting the sieve, they all stared down into the now perfectly strained gin in the basin.

‘Three straws?’ Stella laughed.

‘Let’s put it back in the bottle and see if it looks like the normal ones.’ Frankie placed the funnel into the neck of the bottle and balanced it carefully as Winnie tipped the contents of the bowl through it.

‘Oh my God,’ Stella laughed, giddy. ‘Will you look at that!’

Winnie screwed the cap back on and they all stood back to admire their handiwork.

‘We made gin,’ Winnie said.

Frankie nodded. ‘You know what we need to do now?’

‘Taste it?’ Stella said, crossing the fingers on both of her hands and screwing her eyes up tight like a kid.

‘Yes indeedy,’ Frankie laughed. ‘Let’s take it out onto the terrace and pour three ceremonial G&Ts with all of the trimmings, and mix one extra using the existing island gin so we can compare.’

‘I always admire your dedication to a task,’ Stella said as they filed up the cellar steps. ‘I was all for necking it straight from the bottle.’

‘Is this an invitation-only party or can anyone join?’

Winnie shielded her eyes with her hand and squinted up at Jesse as he strolled off the beach, a brown-paper-wrapped parcel under his arm.

‘We have been working most of the day,’ she said, instantly defensive after his barbs about not using her time constructively.

‘And technically, we still are.’ Stella gestured at the half- empty G&Ts on the table. ‘This is no party, it’s serious research.’

‘Nice work if you can get it,’ he said lightly.

‘You can help us, actually,’ Frankie said, patting the bench for him to sit.

He flicked a quick glance at Winnie and then dropped down, his long, deeply tanned legs stretched out in front of him.

‘At your service,’ he said, touching his brow in mock salute as he propped his parcel on the floor against the bench.

He had his beach-bum look on again today, Winnie noted, eyeing his faded Breton T-shirt and cut-offs. His skin was as nut-brown as any of the locals’, his eyes as dark and glittering, his lashes almost obscenely long on a man.

At fairgrounds as a child Winnie had always gravitated towards the helter-skelter, and being around Jesse was the closest she’d ever come to that feeling as an adult. He made her stomach dip, her heart swoop and her legs weak. But he also made her a little bit fearful, a tiny bit dizzy, and too much of him made her feel regretful. He made her laugh with pleasure, but you know that last bit at the end of the helter-skelter where you never stop quite as quickly as you hope and bang your back at the end? Jesse had that same sting in the tail sometimes, a sense of unreliability that had her on her guard. She just wasn’t sure enough of him to be able to relax.

‘I’m guessing from the pale-looking English guy sinking a beer over at Panos’s bar that you guys have had a new arrival?’

Frankie frowned across the beach, and Winnie nodded to cover. ‘Last minute thing for a few days.’

Stella saved them from the need to elaborate as she returned from the bar and placed two identical glasses down in front of Jesse.

He nodded in approval. ‘Why have one G&T when you can have two?’

‘You need to test them both and see if there’s any difference,’ Winnie said. They all sat forward a little; so far they’d decided they were distillery gurus, but they needed an impartial islander’s viewpoint to be sure. Jesse would have to do.

‘That’s it? Just drink them both?’

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