Page 6 of Old Girls Go Greek
No, that wasn’t the way I needed to think. I should go for a positive reason. Because it sounded like fun, and Iwantedto. And travelling to Santorini, a bit of painting, seeing the blue of the Mediterranean glittering in the sunshine. New food to try, new friendships to consolidate, a bit of – dare I say it – excitement. Yes, they were good reasons to accept the opportunity. The alternative was nowhere near as interesting.
Ivan barged in through the cat flap as he always did, his progress impeded by either his thick black fur or his increasing gut from too many treats, and he stopped with something like outrage to see me in my own kitchen and fixed me with a look.
I tried meowing at him a couple of times to no effect and then went to check my emails. Then I watched a delightful reel on Facebook of adorable cats nuzzling up to their owners.
Ivan jumped up onto the other end of the kitchen table and watched me, so I turned the laptop around to show him.
‘That’s what you should be doing,’ I said. ‘Look at that nice cat, being cuddly and grateful. He’s not sneering at that rather hunky fireman who has just rescued him from under the floorboards as though he is useless. I bet that cat won’t hawk up furballs in the middle of the night right where the fireman puts his feet down in the morning.’
Ivan reached out a casual paw and knocked a tin of pencils onto the floor.
‘Right, that settles it. I’m going on holiday,’ I said. ‘I’ll get Nicky to come in and feed you while I’m away. If you’re lucky.’
Ivan sat down neatly, curling his tail around his front paws.
‘If you don’t like the idea, I’ll put you in the cattery for a week.’
Ivan ignored me, stretched hugely as though he had just finished a hard day’s work, and jumped down and started sniffing around the kitchen obviously looking for his mouse.
* * *
Three months later, after a horribly early start, we arrived in Santorini on a bright, sunny morning and found the transfer bus waiting outside exactly where it should have been. Then there was an hour’s journey from the airport to the village where we were staying until at last we stood outside our hotel.Hotel Costaswas painted in curly script on the wall.
The building was charmingly rustic, with faded blue shutters at every window, canvas sun canopies over the balconies, and there to welcome us at the front door, a tabby cat with her three kittens. Almost immediately, the mother cat started meowing and practically pointing at her empty feed bowl.
A feisty-looking woman with an impressive bosom underneath her flowery overall came out and shooed them away, and they scattered, the mother cat leaping up the bougainvillea that covered the front of the hotel, reaching almost to the roof.
She threw her arms up. ‘Kalós ílthate se ólous sas– welcome everybody!’
We did what any party of older English tourists would do – we nodded and smiled and said how happy we were to be there.
Beryl leaned forward. ‘Boroúme na boúme?Can we come in? It’s very warm out here.’
We looked at her in amazement.
‘I didn’t know you spoke Greek,’ I murmured.
Beryl gave a modest smile. ‘I picked it up when I worked in Athens in the late seventies. The wonderful scent of all the citrus trees, red carnations all over the ground. I remember it like it was yesterday. There was a lot going on then and I had to blend in.’
‘Welcome to Hotel Costas! I am Nina,’ our hostess said with a wide smile, and she ushered us into the cool of the marble floored hallway where we saw a woman I assumed was our leader Jillian pacing around on her mobile phone and looking rather stressed and annoyed.
Her face lit up when she saw us and she ended her call.
‘Come on in, ladies, I’m Cassandra’s sister Jillian. So sorry not to be at the door to greet you. I’ve been having a few last-minute problems. There’s always something. Never mind, let’s get you settled into your rooms.’
She picked up a wicker basket of keys and started to hand them out.
‘Costas and Nina are the owners; they are here to answer all your queries. There isn’t a lift but Costas will take your bags to your room for you, so please don’t struggle. Now then, Anita and Meg, here are your keys, rooms four and five. You are in the front of the building on the first floor. Beryl – I know you and your sister wanted ground-floor rooms, so you are in room one. Effie is next to you in room two. She came on an earlier flight from Paris. I think she’s up on the roof terrace at the moment.’
‘I know what that means,’ Beryl said. ‘She’s sneaking a cigarette. I’ve been telling her to quit for years.’
‘All the others will be arriving soon. They chose the later flight and I think it was delayed,’ Jillian said, stabbing at the buttons on her mobile again.
‘What others? I thought it was just Dennis who hadn’t arrived,’ Anita said.
Jillian looked surprised. ‘Didn’t Cassie tell you? Honestly, she’s so scatterbrained sometimes. But it’s always nice to meet new people, isn’t it? Such a treat. And I couldn’t possibly do this for just four people; think about it. And Dennis of course, so that makes five. I’m surprised he didn’t come with you. But then he and the others said the early flight and a four o’clock start would be too much for them. Anyway, let’s get settled in and then at three o’clock prompt we can all assemble back down here, and I will take you for a special introductory walk around the town. I’ve lived and worked here as a tour guide for years and I know a great deal about the area. So, synchronise your watches.’
Our rooms were small but spotlessly clean, each with whitewashed walls, a tiny shower room and pale blue curtains and shutters which were closed against the rising heat of the day. Pushing them open, I stepped out onto the little balcony which was shaded from the sun by a white canvas awning. I could see that it was also the kitten’s daybed, and three furry faces peered down at me. Heaven knows how they had got up there.
