Page 40 of Take a Chance on Greece

‘What was it you wanted to say to me?’ asked Alexis suddenly.

‘Sorry?’ I prevaricated, although I knew full well what he was referring to. Back here in the real world, I realised I wasn’t feeling as brave as I had been on the mountain.

‘When we were eating our picnic. You said you wanted to tell me something. I hope you know that you can say anything to me. Anything at all.’ He glanced briefly across at me before focusing his gaze back at the road.

Did I dare say something? Could I dare to risk our friendship by voicing the idea that it was him I wanted, and not an Andreas, however awesome they might be?

I opened my mouth to speak, but the Mini bounced over a large pothole with such a jolt it somehow switched the radio on. The sound of cheesy Greek pop music suddenly blasted out of the speakers. By the time we’d stopped laughing and I’d managed to work out how to switch the thing off, the moment had passed.

‘I can’t remember,’ I said, frustrated at myself for wimping out.

The rest of the journey was all too short, but when we arrived back at the Helios Hotel, I dredged up some of my former courage, and asked Alexis if he would like to have a drink at the pool bar with me.

‘I would love to, but I am afraid I am going to have to return to the shop and reopen it for the evening customers,’ he said after checking his watch. He sounded reluctant, but once again I couldn’t decide whether that was wishful thinking on my part.

I waved the Mini off into the distance and headed for my room, my mind whirling.

Chapter Twenty

As I unlocked the door of my room, still thinking about the picnic with Alexis and wondering what would have happened if I had spoken out, I noticed a slip of paper lying on the floor. I bent down and picked it up. It was a ticket for a cruise on Captain Andreas’s boat, taking place tomorrow. To my surprise, the handwritten note accompanying it was signed by Yiota, the trip and an extra day off a reward for my hard work. I was touched at the thoughtful gesture, that she’d gone ahead and booked this for me, despite her reservations about the touristy nature of the cruise, because she knew it was something I wanted to do.

I stared at the words ‘Captain Andreas’ on the ticket. Going on this trip could be the perfect opportunity to get back on track with my Andreas search, but did I really want that? The window of opportunity in which I had acquired the tattoo had only been a few hours. How well could I have got to know a person in that short space of time? Yes, I’d obviously had a powerful sense of initial connection with that Andreas, but did that really trump the deep bond that I’d built with Alexis over the course of my stay? There was more to being The One than just a name. Our friendship was admittedly counted in days rather than months or years, but it was like I’d known him forever. Yet despite my yearning for him, I was still uncertain about his feelings towards me, whether he would ever want anything more than my friendship.

I got ready for bed and tried to distract myself from the questions swirling around my brain by picking up my battered copy ofPersuasion. But for once, the exploits of Anne Elliot and her Captain Wentworth did not provide the escapism I craved, the tale of frustrated love only exacerbating my internal debate. With a sigh, I put it to one side, and lay staring at the ceiling, forcing myself to practise counting in Greek until I finally managed to drift off to sleep.

Despite my late night, I felt more positive in the morning, determined to enjoy the unexpected opportunity to go on a trip and play tourist for the day. After all, this wasn’t a proper Andreas date. It was a cruise to neighbouring islands which happened to be led by someone who had the same name as the one adorning my back.

The boat was setting off from a port called Agia Efimia a few miles up the coast from Sami. I decided to take the bus again, and hoped that the trip would turn out better than my visit to Fiskardo. It was so much nicer than getting the bus back in England. There were still teenagers squabbling on the back row and shoppers hogging extra seats for their bags, but the view from the windows was spectacular as we meandered along the coastline. The driver also recognised me and greeted me in Greek rather than English, which made me feel like I was starting to become a local.

The bus arrived in Agia Efimia an hour before the boat was due to depart so I made the most of the time exploring. The town was smaller than Sami but bustling with activity. The harbour was packed with sailing yachts, all moored up so close to each other that you could quite comfortably walk from one end of the quay to the other along their decks. A wide range of flags from different countries fluttered from the backs of the boats, and I went across to take a closer look, hoping to spot the boat I would be heading out on. The harbour master noticed my interest and wandered over for a chat in between directing yachts to their moorings.

‘Stern to,’ he said, gesturing at the boats.

‘Pardon?’ I asked, wondering if this was another important new Greek phrase that I needed to learn.

He smiled. ‘The boats here are all moored stern to. With their backs against the harbour wall,’ he clarified. ‘It means that people can sit in the cockpit and talk to their neighbour. In some countries, they moor bow to – that is, the front of the boat faces to the land. It means they have more peace when they are sitting in the cockpit. But here in Greece we know the better way. It is always good to talk and be friendly with those around you.’

I was certainly finding that out for myself. I toyed with the idea of casually asking the harbour master about Captain Andreas, but before I could, he made his apologies and hurried away, his radio chattering, as he prepared to welcome another boat in. To my untrained eye, it didn’t look like there was space left for more vessels, but clearly the harbour master knew better. There was a hubbub of shouting between the quayside and the deck of a yacht as another captain skilfully steered her vessel into a space with barely thirty centimetres’ clearance either side of it. It was like having to reverse park at the supermarket, only there was an audience who seemed to get their entertainment from watching the boats. If you messed up here, everyone would know about it.

As with Sami and Fiskardo, the road along the harbour was lined with tavernas, all with big awnings hanging over the street, shading the tables from the strongest rays of the sun. I decided to take a look at the menus, but as I was about to cross the road, I spotted a familiar face. I might not have told him about my trip to Agia Efimia, but Alexis was here anyway. I felt a warm glow of happiness as I smiled across the street at him, delighted to see his lovely features looking back at me. It felt like a sign, and I experienced a thrill of excitement which far outweighed my anticipation of the boat trip I was about to go on.

‘Hey, Alexis,’ I called across the bustling street. But the noise of the traffic must have got in the way of him hearing me, because although he was definitely looking in my direction, he turned away and started walking along the pavement.

‘Alexis,’ I bellowed louder, and then waved for good measure, hopping up and down in the hope that the movement would attract his attention. But while it drew a lot of bemused gazes towards me, to my disappointment, Alexis remained oblivious to my presence and continued striding off into the distance, wrapped up in his own world. He didn’t have his glasses on, so that was probably why he’d not seen my impromptu jig on the other side of the road, I told myself, hoping that he wasn’t deliberately blanking me. He wasn’t the kind of person to ignore someone. But I still felt unsettled, worried that things were different between us.

I tried to dart across the street to catch up with him, but as I stepped out, a flurry of vehicles turned around the corner and accelerated along the road, the drivers determined not to hang around for a moment longer than they had to. I returned to the pavement and watched in frustration as Alexis walked purposefully off. I pulled my phone out to send him a text, then stopped myself. What would I say? That I’d seen him walking down the street? That just sounded creepy. Or that I was here about to encounter another Andreas, but I’d happily ditch my plans in a second if he gave the slightest indication that he wanted to spend time with me? No, I needed to have some dignity. I turned around and made my way back to the harbour, no longer bothered about reading menus.

Right on cue my phone bleeped, and my heart leaped in immediate response. Maybe Alexis had seen me and had sent a message to apologise for dashing off. But when I checked the screen, I was disappointed to discover it was actually a voicemail from Jim awaiting me instead. I deleted it without bothering to listen, and then I did what I should have done ages ago and blocked his number. There was nothing to tie us together anymore, no shared accommodation or workplace, no children or pets to fight over. He had no reason to keep trying to contact me, and it was about time he got the message. It was like he had some sixth sense telling him whenever I was feeling vulnerable, and was doing his best to play on that. Well, I wasn’t going to let him trample on my dreams anymore.

I checked my watch. It was still too early to queue for the boat, so I settled down on one of the benches near the harbour wall and pulled my notebook out of my bag. This time, instead of focusing on my dating disasters, I decided to distract myself by writing about some of the amazing places I’d been lucky enough to visit in Kefalonia and the friendly people who had made me feel so welcome. I described the delicious food and the stunning scenery. Even the cats at Maria’s Taverna got a mention. It felt good to commit my thoughts to paper, and when I read the paragraphs back, I experienced a surge of pride in what I’d achieved. Maybe Alexis’s suggestion that I should pursue writing wasn’t such a wild one.

‘Captain Andreas boat trip customers, this way.’ A man with a megaphone had started marching around the harbour summoning up guests. I carefully tucked my notebook away and joined the chattering crowd beginning to gather.

Captain Andreas’s boat was sadly not one of the elegant sailing yachts moored up in front of the tavernas, but was instead a much larger, more practical-looking motor vessel tethered to the outer wall of the harbour. It was a dirty white colour, with a Greek flag hanging from the back. The flag was so big that it was trailing in the water, while the boat itself appeared to be listing to one side in a slightly drunken fashion. It wasn’t exactly the romantic super yacht I’d been dreaming about, but I told myself not to jump to conclusions based on the boat’s scruffy appearance, and joined the queue of tourists snaking along the jetty, excited that I was finally going to see the island from the sea.

As I was helped on board by a couple of smiling deckhands, I checked their name badges carefully. Neither of them was Captain Andreas, which was slightly disappointing as both were excellent examples of dashing Greek manhood. I found myself a seat on the top deck and settled in for the trip, looking forward to getting a different perspective on the island.

As the seats around me filled up, I realised I was the only solo traveller on the boat. Perhaps it was down to the phenomenon that when you’re looking for love, all you notice is loved-up couples around you. But instead of feeling lonely, I felt proud of myself for doing this trip alone. Only a few weeks ago, the very idea of it would have made me anxious. Now I felt much more comfortable in my own skin and confident in what I could achieve.

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