Page 54 of Old Girls Go Greek
Moments later, Costas appeared, wrapped in his dolphin-patterned robe, bowed extravagantly towards us and went to sit on the sunbed in the middle of our group. Before doing so, he unfastened the belt and rather theatrically let the garment fall to the floor in a heap. And then he struck a sort of Usain Bolt lightning pose, the sunlight glinting on his oiled torso and a rather startling green thong.
Then in a final flourish he did a slow rotation to give us the full benefit of his physique and held out his arms to us and shook them.
‘Ha!’ he said. ‘Is Apollo!’
It was a scene which could have come straight out ofZorba the Greek, and for a second the whole group was shocked into respectful silence.
Then we gave a collective gasp and Costas laughed.
‘My goodness, I haven’t seen anything like it, not since I was having dinner in the Crazy Horse in Paris in 1977,’ Beryl breathed.
‘I’m definitely amazed,’ Effie said.
‘And surprised,’ I said.
Unable to look away, we stared as Costas settled himself on the sunbed and took out his cigarettes, lighting one with a sigh of pleasure.
‘Thank heaven he’s wearing that thong,’ Anita whispered.
‘Well, I must say, this is an unexpected development,’ Dennis said. ‘Let’s get to it, folks. Costas, can you uncross your legs?’
‘Please don’t,’ Effie whimpered, ‘not from where I’m sitting. I don’t think my blood pressure would stand it. I might have to move.’
‘He’s very brave,’ I said.
‘I’ve never drawn an actual person,’ Susan said, ‘and certainly not a man in his – you know – a tiny littlethinglike that.’
‘It’s not a thing, it’s a thong. I think we all need some water,’ Beryl said, reaching for the carafe.
‘And so, I thought this would make an interesting change from the last few days of glorious landscapes and views,’ Jillian said very firmly. Perhaps she had seen the looks on our faces. ‘And there is nothing to it. Just let your materials flow across the paper, meld with your imaginations. You don’t have to be anatomically accurate in order to be inspired.’
‘That’s good news,’ Will said. ‘It’s a long time since I’ve done this sort of thing.’
‘We don’t?’ June said hopefully. ‘Be too – you know –anatomical, I mean?’
‘Absolutely not. This is just another opportunity to try a new medium perhaps, allow your inner Francis Bacon to fly. Perhaps focus on one thing. Draw it in detail. Really study the shape and line of it.’
We watched as Costas got settled. He was a big, muscular man with legs like tree trunks and unsurpassed and rather endearing body confidence. He took a big dollop of suntan oil and slapped it on his chest, rubbing it into his fur with a broad grin on his face, and then held out both arms towards us in triumph again, shook them and shouted,‘Hey!Is Apollo, no?’
‘Abso-blooming-lutely,’ Effie drawled.
I could smell the bergamot tang of the oil and almost sense the heat of his tanned skin from my chair. You wouldn’t see that in Lower Begley.
I sighed. ‘Well, as my builder said to me when I wanted the shower moved, I’ve not seen it done before…’
I had no idea where or how to start. Then I noticed Costas had large beautifully shaped feet, like something from an ancient Greek statue, so I decided to draw one of them.
I looked around at my companions, all of whom had expressions of intense concentration on their faces, apart from Susan, who was sitting back in her chair frowning thoughtfully and sipping water.
‘Simply marvellous! He really is quite majestic when one gets over the surprise of seeing himdéshabille,’ Beryl said. ‘My mother used to say it didn’t matter how handsome or muscular a man was, she said the acid test was could he put some shelves up for his mother, and I think Costas fills that brief very well.’
‘He could probably put a house up, never mind some shelves,’ I said, head ducked down, focusing on Costas’s big toe.
‘That’s an awfully attractive trait, don’t you think?’ Effie sighed, sucking the end of her pencil and leaving black marks around her mouth as a result. ‘For a man to do manly things. Building houses and digging holes and mending cars. I’ve always found mechanics and lumberjacks desperately appealing. And firemen.’
‘I have a calendar of firemen,’ June said in a loud stage whisper, ‘with their shirts off. I’m particularly fond of August.’
‘Is that the one with kittens?’ Susan said. ‘I’ve got that one too. It’s always a little boost to my morning. My favourite is February; he has the nicest seal-point Siamese kitten perched on his shoulder. But then they are so wide he probably has room for a couple of labradors.’
