Page 86 of Hot Greek Summer

‘We haven’t had sex in over a decade,’ she said. ‘Stella doesn’t think he’d even know what colour my eyes are without checking.’

‘Brown,’ Seth said, without even looking her way. ‘Brown, and wise, and very lovely. I don’t believe for a minute that Gavin hasn’t noticed that every day for the last decade, even if you weren’t setting the sheets on fire.’

A small smile touched Frankie’s lips. ‘Thank you for noticing me,’ she said.

‘If I’d met you in a different place at a different time, and if I wasn’t too fucking grown up for my own good, I wouldn’t say this, but I reckon you should think about giving your marriage another go.’

Frankie looked into his eyes, the same eyes that had smouldered at her from her bedroom wall for so many years, and she sighed with deep, longing regret. ‘Bloody love,’ she said, shaking her head.

He laughed then, a low, intimate noise in his chest. ‘Bloody love.’ Reaching out, he stroked the back of his fingers down her cheek. ‘Frank?’

She looked at him, waiting.

‘Now that we’ve got that out of the way, can I kiss you? Just once, so we both know?’

Her lips parted slightly of their own accord, because this conversation was the stuff her dreams were made of. In fact, it was the stuff millions of women’s dreams were made of.

Seth’s hand moved to cradle her neck as he drew her closer and, when he lowered his head to hers and their lips met, Frankie touched her fingers against his jaw too. He was brief, but not so brief that he didn’t take the time to let his mouth linger on hers for a little while, gentle and full of wonder. It wasn’t passionate so much as it was wistful, a kiss of hello and goodbye, a kiss that said, ‘I see you, and in another lifetime I’d choose you in a heartbeat.’

It lasted fifteen seconds, twenty at most, but for Frankie, it was a kiss that set the course for the rest of her life.

From behind the lace that obscured the kitchen window, Gav watched his wife and the rock star smooch and felt his heart break into a million tiny pieces.

They hadn’t planned on attending the mayor’s funeral in case their presence displeased the locals, but Panos and Corinna had been forthright in their insistence that to stay away would give the islanders the impression that they didn’t care.

And so it was that at ten o’clock the next morning they found themselves wearing black and sandwiched tightly on a pew at the back of the packed church in the town square, surrounded by what surely must be every man, woman and child on the island. Corinna had taken the seat beside Winnie, and Panos sat the other end on Stella’s left, their presence effectively barricading them from any hostilities.

Winnie recognised some of the faces from their garden yesterday, and it was clear everyone recognisedthemfrom the sideways looks and heads turning in their direction around the room.

‘I still don’t think we should have come,’ Stella whispered.

‘It was the best option in the circumstances,’ Frankie said quietly as people jostled for space and greeted each other like long-lost friends even though they’d most likely seen each other only yesterday.

At the front of the church the mayor had been grandly laid in an open casket, and a steady procession of islanders queued down the aisle for their turn to pay their respects.

‘We don’t need to do that, do we?’ Winnie murmured.

‘Not on your life,’ Stella said, a little too loud, earning herself a shush from the pew across the way.

Winnie glanced over and found a sea of eyes surreptitiously looking at them, then felt a touch on her shoulder and turned to find that Jesse had slipped into the end of the pew behind them. He didn’t speak, just squeezed her shoulder for a second, and she was grateful for it even though their last confrontation had been less than pleasant.

Throughout the long service of prayers and hymns, the three Englishwomen sat quietly, bowing their heads when others did, keeping their lashes lowered for most of the hymns as they tried their best to hum along. Many people wanted to speak about Mayor Manolis, from his terribly elderly widow and children to various other friends and colleagues, meaning the service was long and stiflingly warm. By the time the congregation moved out into the square, everyone was hot, bothered and more than a little fractious.

‘We’re not going to come to the burial,’ Winnie said, drawing Corinna aside. ‘It feels too personal. We didn’t ever get to meet Mayor Manolis, and we think it would be more respectful of us to stay away.’

Corinna nodded. ‘As you wish,’ she said, her dark eyelashes damp with tears as she kissed Winnie on each cheek. ‘You were brave to come today. Panos and I will speak for you.’

Winnie hugged her quickly, grateful for the act of friendship. Their own lack of language skills meant that communicating with the islanders was always a hit and miss affair, so attempting to talk to them about something as important as this was nigh on impossible.

‘Come on,’ Stella said. ‘I’ve just spotted Gav circling.’

Gavin had driven them into town that morning so that they didn’t have to try to find a parking space for the car, or indeed so they didn’t draw unnecessary attention to themselves in the grand old soft-top.

‘OK?’ he asked, as they all climbed gratefully into the car as soon as they’d walked around the corner from the square.

‘Not really,’ Frankie sighed. ‘Bit like yesterday, really. Everyone still thinks we’re public enemy numbers one, two and three.’

‘Except the mayor was laid out at the front for everyone to see today.Thatmuch was different to yesterday.’ Winnie shivered.

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