Page 23 of Take a Chance on Greece

I repeated this idea to myself, because the voice of concern at the back of my head was also starting to express second thoughts about the wisdom of meeting a stranger from the internet. I knew thousands of people met their other halves online, but I suspected most of those encounters happened through dating sites, rather than after sending a message on the website of a grocery store. Beyond the fact that Andreas ran the aforementioned shop and sold the best tomatoes on Kefalonia, according to what I’d managed to painstakingly work out using my new dictionary, I didn't know much else. I'd tried to ask Yiota about him, but she'd taken offence to my inadvertent implication that living on a small island meant that everyone knew everyone else.

‘It suggests we are all related to each other, and I can assure you that we are not,’ she'd said indignantly.

Wary of losing my position so soon after having successfully completed my initial trial period, I'd quickly backed off. But that meant that for all I knew, Andreas could be anywhere between 18 and 108 years old, and who knew what his personality was like? Hence the decision to meet him in the most public place I could think of, the main street of Sami. At least this way there were plenty of people around and I wasn’t trapped in an enclosed location if I decided I needed to make a run for it. I told myself to stop imagining worst-case scenarios. As Alexis had pointed out, the number of evil axe murderers in the world were few and far between, and that's why incidents involving them made the news. The worst-case scenario would probably be that he was a very dull man and I’d make my excuses and politely leave.

I think it was dwelling on the whole axe murderer scenario which made me jump out of my skin when someone tapped me on the shoulder. Sounding and looking like a startled guinea pig was not exactly the classy first impression I’d been planning to make.

‘Lydia?’ asked the man.

‘That's me,’ I stammered, my heart pounding as I gazed back at the impressive individual who was towering over me. I had to lean my head back to take all of him in, and if he’d been standing with his back to the sun, he probably would have blocked it out completely. Thankfully, he looked perfectly genial and hopefully harmless, not an axe in sight. In fact, he would have struggled to conceal an axe on his person as his outfit was so figure-hugging, it left little to the imagination. His white shirt was unbuttoned nearly to his waist, revealing a triangle of hairless, tanned torso. His black trousers strained across thighs which were clearly the product of many hours of squat exercises. The outfit might almost have been spray-painted on, and I was impressed at his dedication to skin-tight satin in these warm conditions. Whether he was Awesome Andreas remained to be seen, but he certainly deserved the moniker Athletic Andreas with his bulging biceps and classic bodybuilder physique. I waited for a jolt of recognition and/or attraction, but neither came.

Realising I'd been staring for a bit too long, I repeated my name, as if I was reassuring myself of my identity.

He smiled. ‘I am…’ He paused for dramatic effect. ‘Andreas. The Andreas. The one you are looking for.’

I laughed because he said it with such an exaggerated swagger, I was convinced he must be messing around, then immediately felt bad when the smile fell from his face.

‘Sorry, I’m really nervous,’ I hastily covered. ‘When I get nervous I tend to laugh a lot. And yawn.’ Right on cue, I felt a yawn involuntarily start to stretch my jaw. I swallowed and tried to smother it. ‘Sorry.’

Andreas grabbed my hand and shook it vigorously. ‘Do not be nervous. I will show you a good time. And apologising is a very British thing. Be proud to yawn and laugh.’

I let out another squeak, as the bones of my hand crunched against each other thanks to the force of his strong grip.

‘Absolutely. Will do,’ I said. It wasn’t like I was going to disagree with him while my hand was still in his. He looked at me carefully and then nodded in satisfaction. I sensed I’d passed some kind of test.

‘Lovely weather,’ I stammered as the silence stretched out. Again, I kicked myself. What a stupid thing to say. Of course, it was lovely weather, I was in Greece in the summer. But how else was I meant to break the silence? Say what you like about English weather, at least it gave enough variety to always provide a talking point in awkward situations. But the only reason this was awkward was because I was making it so by overthinking things. I told myself to stop, but my brain had other ideas.

‘It is good training weather,’ said Andreas, making his biceps twitch to make sure I knew what kind of training he was talking about. I decided he probably spent most of his free time in the gym to maintain that physique. He wouldn’t be impressed with my approach to working out, which was that I didn’t.

‘What would you like to do?’ he asked.

I nodded, grateful that he was open to discussion about it. I’d prepared my answer for this, carefully considering the options and potential outcomes as I’d lain awake last night.

‘I thought maybe we could go for an ice cream,’ I said, wondering if it would look rude if I took a couple of steps back. I was starting to get a crick in my neck from looking up at him. I’d worried after my initial invitation that coffee seemed too suggestive, and I’d ruled out alcohol as I was still following my vow of temperance. A full-on meal could be too much pressure, but an ice cream seemed like the perfect solution in a sunny country on a hot day, plus it had the added bonus of not committing either of us to spending a lengthy amount of time together if it turned out we didn’t get on. It would also give us something to talk about. At least debating the merits of different flavours and cone options would be better than me repeatedly mentioning how sunny it was. Yes, I had thought about this a lot. But now that I was confronted by the reality of the situation, did suggesting ice cream make me seem too childish and unsophisticated? I stopped myself right there. As Kat and Amira would say, it was time I stopped worrying about what other people thought of me and did what would make me happy. I liked ice cream, so why shouldn’t I enjoy it with my new acquaintance?

An expression of dismay crossed my date’s face. ‘Too much sugar,’ he said, swiping his hand from side to side as if he was knocking away invisible ice creams. ‘My body must not be tainted by such things.’ As if to demonstrate this point, he flexed the muscles of his chest.

I nearly laughed, never having been confronted with this kind of peacock behaviour before, then I realised that once again, he was deadly serious.

‘Of course. Sorry. Then what would you like to do?’

‘I have an idea. This way.’

Athletic Andreas gestured for me to follow him, and then set off at a pace which would have been more suited to a commuter battling through the crowds on the streets of London than someone here in relaxed, sleepy Sami.

I hesitated for a moment, then decided I might as well accompany him through the centre of town. There were enough people around that I could always call for help if I needed to, and despite his intimidating physique, he wasn’t setting off any alarm bells. On the negative side he wasn’t setting off any tingly bells of attraction or recognition either, but I told myself to give it time. There was no point in jumping to conclusions in the first five minutes of the date.

He led me to a part of town I was yet to explore. I kept careful track of the direction we were going in, using Alexis’s bookshop as the centre of my mental map. After all, he had offered me a refuge should I need it.

‘Where are we going?’ I asked after several minutes of vigorous walking. How Andreas wasn’t breaking into a sweat I had no idea, especially as the tightness of his outfit must have made it more challenging to achieve the large strides he was taking. I was seriously regretting the wedge heels. Pretty they might be, but the straps were beginning to rub, and I had a horrible feeling my heels were going to develop blisters. I really hoped his idea did not involve any kind of running around or exercise. The walk to get to our destination was quite enough.

‘To the maritime museum. It has a temporary exhibition of Greek statues which have come from the mainland. We shall look at them.’

‘That’s a much better idea than ice cream,’ I said, pleased to be experiencing some culture and pleasantly surprised that this was his suggestion. It seemed like a sophisticated thing to do on a date, and my estimation of this first Andreas went up. As soon as I’d seen him, I’d ruled him out as Awesome Andreas because physically he really wasn’t the kind of guy I’d normally be attracted to, but I obviously needed to stop making snap judgements. This Andreas clearly had hidden depths.

We arrived at the museum and then had a brief tussle over who was going to pay for the tickets. Athletic Andreas was insistent that he should do the honours, while I was equally determined that we would split the costs fifty-fifty. It was very sweet of him to offer, but I didn’t want anyone to think I was freeloading my way around Kefalonia. Besides, I’d checked my banking app before setting off and seen that my first wages from the hotel had been transferred in. I wasn’t going to be buying a super yacht any time soon, but I could at least stretch to a museum ticket for myself.

‘Meeting up was at my invitation, I should pay my way,’ I asserted. ‘Please. It’s only a few euros, after all.’

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