Page 75 of Hot Greek Summer

‘Wax on, wax off.’

Winnie tossed the keys across the car to Jesse. ‘You know, you’re the first person to make that joke,’ she lied enthusiastically, opening the passenger door.

‘I’m not, am I,’ he muttered, sliding into the driver’s seat.

‘Nope.’

Winnie settled into the big leather seat, crossing her legs.

‘Did you mistakeDirty Dancingfor a spaghetti western?’ he said, glancing at her cut-offs and cowboy boots.

She’d thought long and hard about what to wear. A dress felt too formal and jeans would be way too warm. The Lady Antebellum inspired lace top, cut-offs and slightly battered boots combo had won by being kind of dressed up and dressed down at the same time. It was an outfit that she probably wouldn’t have been brave enough to wear back in England, but Skelidos had seeped deeper than her sun-kissed skin these days; she’d soaked in some of the island’s relaxed confidence, a barefoot, kick-back coolness that she was enjoying very much. She’d left her hair in loose waves around her shoulders and clipped it back with a bohemian flower clip she’d found in the market in town, added a slick of lip gloss and mascara, and she was ready.

‘Did you mistake this for dinner with your mother?’ she quipped back lightly, casting a deliberately appraising glance over his own attempt at dressing for the occasion. He’d gone for an ‘expensive man just stepped off his yacht for dinner at the marina’ ensemble of a short-sleeved white shirt that highlighted the depth of his suntan and canvas shorts with his sunnies tucked into his unbuttoned collar. It was a respectable look on him, lending him a sophisticated, worldly air that she wasn’t used to.

He narrowed his eyes at her sarcasm as he rumbled the old engine into life. She’d readily agreed when he’d asked to drive; manoeuvring the big old saloon was an artform in itself, but driving it on deep, powdery sand without getting stuck was something else again. She was frankly glad to get out of the villa for the evening; Stella had stayed in her foul mood after her clash with Frankie in the cellar, leaving Frank to test her homemade pizza recipe on Gav and the boys from Tryx out on the terrace with Stella glowering down from her balcony.

‘Right then. Now we’ve customarily insulted each other, shall we get going?’ Jesse smiled genially as he pulled out of the gates and headed down the coast road.

She laughed. ‘And tell me, Jesse, are you likely to customarily attempt to broaden my sexual horizons later, too? Or am I safe, seeing as we’re in public?’

Jesse looked sharply towards Winnie, swerving the wide car dangerously close to the hedgerows on the narrow road, making her instinctively reach out and straighten the wheel.

‘Careful,’ she said, laughing at his scowl, and watched the countryside slide past, enjoying the warm evening breeze on her skin.

After a while, he huffed, ‘Just for the record, I’m not some damn cultish Svengali who’s been taking advantage of your delicate heart, OK?’

She studied his profile, trying to judge why he’d taken what she’d intended as a lighthearted comment so personally. ‘I never said you were anything of the sort. I was just kidding, Jesse. I took my own clothes off last time, remember?’

‘Like I could forget,’ he muttered, indicating left to follow the beach signs for Moonlight Bay.

Winnie wasn’t certain why the atmosphere between them had lurched towards fraught, but she was glad of the distraction of the crowd on the beach, or as close to a crowd as it got on a sleepy island like Skelidos. Five or six rows of cars had lined themselves up haphazardly pointing towards a large screen that had been erected at one end of the bay, and a couple of teenagers in cut-offs and vests shoved the fee into the aprons tied around their middles and waved them on vaguely to join the pack.

Winnie waited until Jesse had picked his spot and turned off the engine. ‘I’m sorry if what I said annoyed you. I didn’t mean anything by it.’

He sighed and turned to look her way. ‘It didn’t. You didn’t annoy me, I annoyed myself. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.’

‘Shall we just forget it and start over?’

The beginnings of a smile tipped the corner of his mouth. ‘I like your boots.’

She cast her eyes down, laughing softly. ‘My mother calls them my Dallas boots.’ Looking up again, she met his gaze. ‘I like your shirt. It makes you look respectable.’

He curled his lip and looked down at his torso. ‘I was going for handsome and debonair, not bank manager.’

‘OK, let me try again. You look handsome and debonair tonight, Jesse, not at all like a bank manager. My bank manager back in England was barely five foot and bald with glasses, bad breath and Dalek cufflinks, so you really are nothing at all like him.’

‘Well, I’m glad we cleared that up,’ he said, shaking his head slightly, as if to say that, as always, their conversation had veered towards random.

‘I brought popcorn,’ she said. ‘And some pizza Frankie had just pulled out of the oven.’

He nodded his approval. ‘I brought wine for you. I even brought a glass,’ he said.

‘You’re a keeper,’ she said. ‘Until the end of the movie, at least.’

A fizz of excitement sizzled around the beach as dusk slid towards darkness and the huge screen up front blinked into life.

‘I love this movie so much,’ Winnie said, full of anticipation. ‘What’s your favourite bit?’

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