Page 53 of Old Girls Go Greek
‘To hear is to obey,’ I said, returning the salute with a grin.
* * *
We got back to the hotel just before nine o’clock, and while the others wanted to go up to the rooftop terrace for a nightcap, I just wanted to go to my room and think. And investigate the clothes I had packed to come here. To try to find something suitable to wear.
And then I told myself to stop being foolish and went to have a cool shower before bed, as the evening had been rather warm. When I came back into my room, I saw someone had pushed an envelope with the hotel’s logo on the back, under my door.
I have booked a table for the day after tomorrow. Six-thirty-ish for seven o’clock. I hope this suits you? If not please tell me. I will arrange a taxi to take us there, leaving here just after six. Again, if this doesn’t fit in with your plans for the day do let me know at the still-life class tomorrow morning. Kind regards, Will.
O.M.G.
I calmed myself down by sending Nicky a long email and some of the many photographs I had taken on my phone over the last couple of days. I didn’t mention the forthcoming dinner date. It wasn’t anything she needed to know about anyway. As a teenager she had always been banging on about people respecting her privacy; well, now, rather surprisingly, it was my turn.
It was frustrating, though, not to be fifteen again, not able to sit on my bed with some giggling friends and discuss every word of his message, read into it things that probably weren’t there. To be young enough to be properly silly.
But then women of my age, who had been single for a while, were probably hard to impress. I hadn’t thought for a moment about ever having another relationship after my divorce. A man would have to be seriously remarkable to make me change my mind about that. And most men I had encountered of my generation seemed to be a bit like Dennis. Perfectly all right but set in their ways, a bit grumpy, firmly attached to someone, and there weren’t many of them in the first place. And then there was the emotional baggage both of us would be dragging behind us. Our families, our pasts, our suspicions and assumptions.
What would a man like Will bring into my life? What would I bring into his? There had to be some reason, surely? Did this step actually count as one of the epic things I had been planning, or was it, in the grand scheme of things, nothing?
I had a lot of thinking to do. And meanwhile, I needed to pick all my discarded clothes up and put them back in the wardrobe.
16
The following day dawned just as all the others had, clear skies and sunny, with the promising warmth and slightly fresh edge of an early summer morning.
I made some tea and sat in bed for a while, looking out of the open windows. There was a scuffle in the bougainvillea and one of the kittens fell onto the balcony and started sniffing around the place where I had started leaving some scraps from my breakfast ham.
‘I’ll bring you some later,’ I said, and it stopped, startled at the sound of my voice, and scampered away.
I wondered how Ivan was getting on without me back home. Not that he was the sort of cat to fawn around me when I was there, and undoubtedly I would get the cold shoulder from him for several days on my return. It was surprising that Nicky was getting on so well with him, but knowing Ivan, he was canny enough to be doing it just to be ornery.
I pulled on some loose linen trousers and a clean shirt and then found my sunhat, which was plain white and a bit boring compared with the jaunty Old Ducks hats Anita, Effie and Beryl wore.
Out in the courtyard, the breakfast was set out as usual and the table was nearly full. Will was at the far end, my friends at the other. I went to sit between Beryl and Effie with my croissants and coffee.
We had a discussion about what our painting task would be that morning. We wondered what Jillian had in mind.
‘This would make a good still life,’ Effie said, pointing at her plate. ‘A glass of orange juice and five grapes. I could call itThe Joy of Six.’
Beryl pushed her toast and apricot jam around the plate for a few minutes.
‘There you are – mine would be calledThis Picture is Toast.’
‘I wish it could be the kittens,’ Susan said, ‘but do you think they would stay still for long enough?’
Reminded by this comment, I wrapped a piece of ham in a paper napkin and sneaked it into my pocket.
* * *
Bang on ten thirty we all assembled obediently on the roof terrace, where Nina had kindly put up all the parasols and placed several carafes of iced water and some glasses on each table. And we would need them; it was shaping up to be a hot day.
‘So now then, what are we supposed to be painting?’ Dennis said, hands on hips, surveying the terrace like a captain on the bridge of his ship.
Jillian, who was already there with her usual clipboard and a worried expression, settled us all down.
‘One moment, and it will all be revealed to you,’ she said. ‘I think you will be amazed. And possibly a bit surprised.’
Will and I exchanged looks at this point, neither of us knowing where this was going.
