Page 17 of The Cruise Club

‘Why have we come here?’ Betty grumbled. She reached for her fan and furiously waved it.

‘Because it is a beautiful place,’ Carmen replied, ‘and I can’t wait to look around.’

‘Well, don’t expect me to join you,’ Betty was adamant. ‘You can find a decent café in a shady spot, and I’ll just have to sit on my own while you go off galivanting.’

Carmen breathed a sigh of relief.Freedom!The sooner she got Betty settled, the sooner she could escape and discover the mysteries of Maxos. She picked up her pace and navigated a winding path past an avenue of cottages and pastel-coloured houses. Wandering into the village square, Carmen gazed at pink and white blossoms bursting from woody stems of vines climbing along terracotta-tiled rooftops. She strolled by buildings hiding dark alleys that led to steep steps and noted properties further up the hillside.

‘Isn’t it lovely?’ Carmen murmured as she looked around for a suitable taverna to park Betty.

A young man appeared. His glossy black hair gleamed in the sunshine, and as he grinned, Carmen saw his slightly crooked teeth.

‘You need refreshment?’ he asked.

‘Well, er, yes, we are looking for somewhere shady and cool for Mum to relax for a little while,’ Carmen said. ‘Can you recommend a taverna?’

‘Of course, come to Psara Taverna and meet my family. I am Spiros,’ he added.

Before Carmen had time to consider the young man’s offer, his olive-skinned arms reached out and strong hands grabbed the handles of Betty’s chair.

‘You will like,’ he said as they set off and in moments, reached a bar shaded by colourful umbrellas on the side of the harbour. ‘See, is good?’ He grinned as he waited for Carmen’s approval. ‘My mána, she cooks.’

‘It’s perfect.’

Carmen picked up a napkin and as she removed her glasses to polish them, she looked around at the pretty harbourside setting, where tables were covered with gingham cloths and dotted with vases of wildflowers. Boats bobbed alongside in the calm water.

‘I’m hungry,’ Betty said as Spiros secured her chair by a table, shaded by a vast umbrella, where a cool breeze whispered across the bay.

Carmen reached for a menu and began to study the Greek specialities, hoping for something suitable for Betty.

‘You try Mána’s kolokythokeftedes and dolmades,’ Spiros said.

Carmen read the translation and doubted that Betty would enjoy Spiros’s mother’s courgette balls and stuffed vine leaves. However, sensing her moment to escape, she nodded enthusiastically.

‘Would it be all right if I left my mána here for a short while and looked around the village?’ Carmen asked.

‘But of course,’ Spiros spread out his arms. ‘Go, beautiful lady, enjoy, and when you come back, I have food waiting.’

Carmen patted Betty’s arm and explained that she would be back soon. Not waiting for Betty to protest, she leaped like a gazelle, away from the taverna. ‘Thank you!’ she called out to Spiros.

The young man’s smile was wide and touching two fingers to his lips, he blew her a kiss. ‘Have fun!’ he called out.

Flustered by Spiros’s attention, Carmen’s cheeks were hot as she left the taverna. Were all Greek men so friendly? But as she wandered around, Carmen embraced the hidden world. It was as though she’d stepped into a timeless, enchanted place, and the memory of Betty’s continual protestations soon faded. No wonder Maxos was a highlight of the cruise’s stopover in Kefalonia.

She came to a lane and noticed a small, three-storied, villa. With steps patterned in pretty mosaic tiles, terracotta pots stood either side of a blue front door. A sign announced,Villa Galini. Carmen noticed another sign in the window which read,For Sale. She considered the owner the luckiest person on earth to have such a gorgeous home, whereshuttered windows on balconies overlooked a horseshoe-shaped beach. She couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to sell it.

‘How I’d love to live somewhere like this,’ Carmen whispered as she stared at the villa, ‘to write all day at that window, with a glorious view of the bay.’

Turning away, she was startled to see, draped over a rickety picnic table, the hunched figure of an old man in the shadow of overhanging fir trees. Moving closer, Carmen felt a stab of anxiety.Is he breathing?

Unsure of what to do, she reached out to shake his shoulder.

‘Don’t worry!’ a voice called out. ‘He’s asleep.’

Carmen spun around and, to her surprise, realised that another man was sitting on a bench overlooking the beach. An open notebook lay on his lap, and he held a pen between his fingers. Wearing a Panama hat, linen trousers and shirt, he raised his Ray-Bans to stare.

It was Ruskin Reeve again.

Carmen felt her heart pound, and a flush spread across her perspiring face. Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes locked on Ruskin’s authoritative figure. Beside her, the older man began to snore, and she noticed a dusty cap upturned on the table, beside several stacked jars.

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