Page 14 of Old Girls Go Greek
‘Rick would,’ Anita said. ‘We had terrible troubles with moles across the lawn last year. He used to go out at night and sit for hours in a deckchair with a torch and a giant pepper mill as a weapon. He never saw a single one.’
‘I don’t think they were an anti-mole implement, I think they were invented by a Mr Mole,’ Will said.
It was unexpected and rather nice to hear him join in the conversation at last, and the thought appealed to me.
‘I can imagine him, dressed in a velvet waistcoat and plus fours. Whiskers twitching.’
‘Living in some underground office with tree roots across the ceiling,’ Will said with a grin.
‘Yes, but where are we going tomorrow?’ Dennis said irritably. ‘I haven’t come here to talk about moles, I’ve come for the painting.’
Susan rummaged in her handbag and pulled out a sheaf of papers.
‘It’s all in the email she sent us, didn’t you print them out?’
‘I told you I never print things out,’ Dennis said. ‘It’s a waste of the world’s resources.’
‘Then it’s a good job I did,’ Susan said, passing the paperwork across to him. ‘Look, the minibus will collect us at nine thirty and take us to a spot along the coast where there is a ruined monastery. There’s also a small café and information centre.’
‘Have you been here before?’ I said, turning my attention back to Will.
‘No. Crete and Kos years ago, before it got too busy. I prefer somewhere quieter these days.’
A flicker of some emotion passed across his face, and he picked his sunglasses up from the table and put them back on again.
‘I think this is lovely from what I’ve seen,’ I said. ‘So quiet and unspoiled. No famous people on yachts moored off the harbour. No huge villas full of celebrities.’
‘Not yet,’ Beryl said. ‘It just takes one Oscar winner or television reality star to spill the beans about it. I can just about remember going to the south of France with our parents in the 1960s. An absolute jewel. Beautiful and stylish with hardly any traffic. Now it’s very different.’
‘If you’ll excuse me, I need to make a phone call,’ Will muttered, and he went back downstairs.
I was a bit disappointed to see him go so soon. I would have liked to talk to him some more. Still, there would be plenty of time in the days ahead.
The rest of us chatted quite easily about ourselves, what we liked about painting and what we were hoping to accomplish during our stay, and then Jillian appeared half an hour later, looking rather agitated.
‘Where has Will gone now? I thought we could set off for our dinner now we are all together. The table is booked for six thirty.’
‘I’ll bang on his door as we go past,’ I said. ‘Where are we going?’
‘Ifyou had come on my guided walk earlier, you would know,’ Jillian said rather waspishly. ‘The Blue Sea restaurant, by the harbour. The one with all the Greek flags if you get lost.’
Anita and I exchanged a look.
‘Told off,’ Effie murmured.
‘Will is in number nine. Now, let’s get going,’ Dennis said, ‘or we will be late. And then they will give away our table and we’ll have to scrape around for somewhere else with enough room for us all. And that will play havoc with my glucose levels.’
‘I don’t think he needs to worry,’ Beryl said as we went down the stairs, ‘it’s not exactly high season, is it?’
I paused as we passed Will’s room and tapped on the door while the others carried on down to the hallways.
He opened it after a few seconds and stood looking at me rather blankly. He was wearing a clean blue t-shirt and some rumpled shorts, and it looked as though he had been asleep.
‘We’re off to dinner,’ I said. ‘Are you coming too?’
‘I think I’ll give it a miss,’ he said, rubbing one hand over his stubbly hair. ‘I’m just catching up with a few things.’
What things? I thought this was supposed to be a holiday?
