Page 55 of Old Girls Go Greek
We worked on in silence for a while, and occasionally Costas shifted about and lit another cigarette, settling again with a smile on his face, obviously delighted to be the centre of attention.
About an hour later he signalled to Jillian that he needed a break, and he stood up and stretched his arms up towards the sky. And then he snapped the two sides of his thong against his sides with his thumbs and for a moment we held our collective breaths as it seemed as though his barely there thong might fall down, but happily it didn’t and we all downed pencils and scurried off for coffee and more baklava, which Nina had kindly supplied next to the bar. As we helped ourselves, she nodded and smiled proudly, obviously delighted that her husband was being so well received.
‘Eínai kalós ánthropos. He is a fine man, my Costas,’ she said, looking at him with hungry eyes. ‘He can unblock the drains faster than any man I know.’
‘I think this was a marvellous idea,’ Dennis said. ‘I’m thoroughly enjoying doing something different. I might suggest to Cassandra that she do something similar in Lower Begley when we get back.’
I thought about this. It was all very well for someone to do this on a Greek, sun-drenched roof terrace, where the temperature was still rising and the rest of us were getting very hot and sweaty. And at least we had the possibility of a dip in the pool afterwards to cool off.
I tried to imagine someone stripping off in Lower Begley village hall, where the curtains at the windows didn’t quite close properly and the heating was unreliable. I didn’t think she would have many volunteers.
‘How are you getting on?’ I asked Susan, who hadn’t been talking very much but had been bent over her sketch book all the time, with fixed concentration and a little smile.
‘Marvellous,’ she said, beaming. ‘I think it’s one of the best things I’ve done since we came here.’
‘I’m so pleased to hear that,’ Jillian chipped in, overhearing. ‘I’m thrilled. Sometimes it’s all we need, isn’t it? To look at our work with a fresh perspective and new ideas of what is possible. Let’s have a look?’
Susan put down her coffee, went to fetch her sketchbook and held it out proudly.
‘I’ve just drawn a tiny, important bit of Costas as well, for scale?—’
I think there was a loud intake of breath at this point.
‘—and then I focused in on this…’
She had indeed drawn the top of Costas’s head with just a few of his vigorous, grey curls in the corner of the page, but the majority of her picture was taken up with the hotel cat, who had been peacefully sleeping on the wall behind him.
‘It’s jolly good,’ I said, ‘terrifically lifelike. Especially the whiskers.’
‘Unexpected,’ Jillian said.
Dennis wandered over to see what the fuss was about.
‘You haven’t drawn Costas at all, you’ve drawn the flaming cat again! For goodness’ sake!’
Susan stuck her tongue out at him.
‘I like cats, I like drawing cats. So there. Yah boo sucks to you with knobs on.’
Costas meanwhile was standing with his back to us at the roof terrace rail, smoking a cigarette, sipping an espresso and proudly surveying the little street below. Occasionally he gave a little shimmy of pleasure. Evidently this was his idea of a morning well spent.
I think we were all fascinated but trying hard not to stare too obviously.
‘Imagine back in the day, thousands of Costases invading from the Greek ships,’ June whispered, ‘climbing up the cliffs and marauding. No one would have stood a chance.’
‘I don’t think they would have been wearing green thongs though,’ I whispered back.
‘No, probably not,’ June said, and she dabbed at her throat with a wet wipe. ‘Pity really.’
* * *
We carried on sketching and painting until Nina eventually had a word with Jillian and the proceedings came to a halt.
‘Costas has to go off now, to a very important meeting with the local council, so I think we should give him time to – you know – get ready.’
‘Get dressed,’ Beryl murmured.
With great dignity, Costas pulled on his robe and, with a polite bow, left us.
