Page 57 of For One Moment With You
I switched my phone off and put it away. Yes, I was upset. It was impossible not to be. But sitting on this ferry, gazing out across the sea, as I watched the sun sink lower, I wasn’t upset in the same way I was before I left the UK. In the strangest way, I even felt a flicker of sympathy for Gareth. I mean, he didn’t want children when I got pregnant all those years ago and there he was, about to do it all over again.
I winced, imagining Tallulah’s voice ringing in my ears – wearing her friend hat rather than a therapist one.How dare you waste your time feeling sorry for that despicable man, Tilly. You’d think by now he’d know how babies are made.And the fact of the matter was I didn’t want to dwell on Gareth. The next chapter was already there, waiting for me.
Through the darkness, I made out the lights twinkling as the port of Chania came into view and this time nothing could stop the thrill of excitement I felt as we drew closer, before the ferry slowed down, then came to a stop.
As from the deck I watched the activity as the ferry was secured, my trepidation made a brief reappearance. Of course, there were practicalities to observe. I was, after all, a lone middle-aged woman disembarking from a ferry in a place she’d never been to before and where she hadn’t even booked a hotel room – and where she didn’t speak so much as a single word of the language.
Note to self. Download an English–Greek translation app.
And there was no going back – at least, not tonight. I followed the line of people as they made their way off the ferry. Standing on firm ground, I looked around, catching sight of the old man I saw in Athens slowly shuffling along with the help of the same young backpacker as before. Clearly I wasn’t needed here and so, flagging down a taxi, I headed for Chania Old Town.
The road was quiet as we drove, the darkness broken by lights in some of the windows of houses we passed. A short while later, we reached the harbour. After paying the driver and getting out, I just stood there for a moment. The metallic clinking from the boats reached my ears as I took in the twinkling lights, the feeling of peacefulness. Starting to drag my case along, my arm was hurting and I resolved to exchange it for a rucksack as soon as possible.
It didn’t mean I couldn’t shop, I told myself, completely forgetting my earlier musings about living a less material life. I mean, I could have everything sent back – and I’d been fantasising about creating a Mediterranean-themed kitchen in the home I’d eventually have. After all, there couldn’t be many better places to pick up some design tips.
Passing a few bars and tavernas, I was surprised how many were closed. But it was October, I reminded myself. Stopping at one of the smaller ones, I manoeuvred my case off the street and took a seat at a table outside. I took out my phone, switched it on and saw the rows of missed calls from Gareth.
This offer must have been good – he was obviously desperate to get hold of me. But as a waiter came up, I put down my phone. Gareth could wait. I picked up the menu and pointed to the wine list. ‘Good evening. One glass,’ I said, holding up one finger to make sure he understood.
‘You like Greek wine?’ he asked in heavily accented English.
I breathed a sigh of relief that I didn’t have to attempt to speak Greek. ‘I don’t know. But I’d like to try it.’
‘OK.’ He wrote on his notepad. ‘Would you like to order some food?’
‘I would. I’m just not sure what.’ Looking at the menu again, I frowned, considering. ‘Do you have something small? Hot – maybe with fries?’
‘If you like, I choose? And, of course, with fries?’ he added.
‘Thank you. That’s really kind,’ I said. Then I remembered something I’d read about the Greeks eating goat. ‘Not goat, though. No offence,’ I added hastily. ‘It’s just that I’ve never eaten goat before.’
‘No problem.’ He bowed his head. ‘Leave it with me.’
Minutes later he came back with a glass of red wine. I sipped it slowly, savouring the rich feel of it on my palate. Then I put my glass down and breathed in air that was fragrant with the smell of freshly cooked food, turning my gaze upwards to take in a night sky that was clear and sparkling with stars. Sitting back, I looked towards the harbour. Soaking up the moment, after everything that had brought me here, it was as though I was in a dream.
The thought startled me. Maybe that was what all of this was. A dream. I pinched myself, to make sure it wasn’t, just as the waiter came back with a large plate of food and a basket of bread.
I stared at it. ‘This is so much food.’
He shrugged. ‘I know you said small. But you eat. When you have had enough, you stop.’ He put down a bottle. ‘Olive oil. It is from this island. It is good.’
Feeling my stomach rumble, I couldn’t help but smile at him. ‘Thank you.’
He bowed his head. ‘You are most welcome. Enjoy.’
As he walked away, I realised how hungry I was. I tentatively cut into the crisp calamari, which tasted like nothing I’d ever eaten before, then started on the tomato butter beans, drizzling them with the olive oil and mopping up the sauce with some of the bread, before turning to the frites. By the time the waiter came back, my plate was empty.
‘It was not so big, then,’ he said.
‘It was so good,’ I told him. ‘Not like I usually eat.’
‘That’s because it is grown and harvested on this island,’ he said. ‘It is food for the soul.’
The way he said it resonated with me. You see, I’d never thought of food that way before, but maybe it was another change I needed to make. To see it as more than nourishing the body. ‘Do you mind me asking you something?’ I frowned slightly. ‘Only I don’t have anywhere to stay. Do you know of somewhere?’
‘Perhaps. You want for how long?’ he asked. ‘My brother has a place. It is not far.’
A feeling of relief filled me again. ‘I’m not sure. A week, maybe. But it could be longer.’
