Desperately Seeking Summer Page 9

  ‘Poor Darrell,’ Jackie remarked, picking up her pen. ‘It sounds awful.’

  ‘It sounds like he’s making a lot more money than us,’ Melody quipped.

  ‘Well,’ Abby jumped in. ‘Not for long.’ She smiled. ‘Let’s talk through this list I’ve made before I have to go out.’

  ‘Go out?’ Melody queried. ‘Oh, I see, talk a good talk and then you’re off down the beach while I get hot and heavy with emulsion!’

  Abby shook her head. ‘No, I’m going to help you with that. I just have something to …’ Where was she planning on going with this? ‘Pick up from the bike-hire shop.’

  ‘What?’ Melody asked.

  ‘A … bike.’

  ‘You’re hiring a bike?’ Jackie queried.

  Abby nodded. ‘Yes. It’s cheaper than hiring a car and it will keep me fit. It’s a win–win.’

  Melody snorted and threw herself down into a chair. ‘You’re not wrong. Have you looked at the terrain? You’re going to at least need an electric one if you want a chance of getting anywhere.’

  Abby’s eyes went to the green hillside above them and she wondered, firstly, just how many fibs were going to spill from her mouth before lunch and secondly, if the valuation didn’t go well, whether she really would have to hire a bike.

  Seventeen

  Villa Pappas

  Abby was walking up the incline to the villa Spyridoula had pointed out to her earlier. Houses weren’t in any kind of ordered streets up here, it was more like someone had rolled the buildings like dice, uncaring of where they settled. Apart from the view. She was sure that all of the properties here benefitted from a spectacular scene from their windows and outside spaces.

  It was balmy, the air thick, the sunshine warm on her bare shoulders as she fanned her face with her hands and tried to stop herself from perspiring before she got to the house. She needed to look professional and sweat stains were not professional. She wanted to go into this meeting representing Desperately Seeking as well as she could. But she was starting to panic, and wished that she had told her mum and sister where she was going.

  There were multiple reasons she hadn’t mentioned it. One, was her mother’s dislike of Spyridoula and the idea that somehow Abby had been duped and nothing was going to come of it. Two, she couldn’t bear the thought of her mum or Melody pitching for this job and not getting it when they were both fragile. And three, she needed to prove to her new and improved, confident, single-and-loving-it-even-though-she-was-lying-about-it self that she could do this. She could win this property for the DS books. She was not on the business scrapheap just yet.

  She stopped walking when she saw the sign. Villa Pappas. Engraved in olive wood. Gah! But it made sense. What would a sign costing a few hundred euros be to someone who owned somewhere like this? There was blooming clematis and striking red and purple bougainvillea trailing over the outside walls, together with corn marigolds and purple bellflowers visible just inside the garden. For a second Abby closed her eyes. It was like being in the middle of a fragrant field, surrounded by every summer scent you could imagine. It brought back every beautiful memory she had ever had. Sliding down riverbanks with Melody, getting grass stains on their shorts before rolling into the deliciously cold stream. Lying on their stomachs on the grass with egg sandwiches and mini pork pies, watching their dad play cricket. Cuddling up with Darrell in the sand dunes at Shell Bay …

  Abby snapped herself out of that particular memory and breathed in, the heat of the air almost scalding her lungs. It was time to get serious. It was time to get her mother’s business and her own entrepreneurism back on track. And that started with nailing this property. She put her hand to the gate and pushed.

  Ear buds playing a playlist titled Happy Pop Hits on Spotify, Theo was almost blissfully relaxed. Here, in this holiday bubble he could be anyone and no one. There was no demand on his time, his mind, or any other part of him. And that was one reason why he did his sunbathing this way. Naked. Every time he lay here he tried to shut off completely from the conformity he had spent the majority of his life living under. It wasn’t that his father was an ogre, but he was the head of the family and, as such, he acted in the traditional way. He made the rules. The family followed them. And no one seemed to have bucked against that hierachy ever. Until now. He had left, turned his back and all manner of guilt was crushing him. He wasn’t sure how he was going to get over that.

  He shook his head as dark thoughts began to take over the upbeat music and the feeling of weightlessness and ownership of himself. He needed to tune into the space again, not let his mind work overtime.

  And then a sound rang out far louder than the Rita Ora track he was listening to and he jumped, wrenching the ear buds from his ears and leaping from the lounger.

  ‘God! I am so sorry! So sorry! I’m not looking! I am not looking, see, hand over my eyes, completely over my eyes.’

  ‘Abby?’ He couldn’t be sure because the sun was now in his eyes and, having had his lids completely closed before, it was disorientating. Plus half of her face was covered with her hands as if she took in his image she would turn to stone.

  ‘Yes,’ she answered, feet swivelling on the spot until she was facing towards the pool. ‘I … that is … Spyridoula Pappas asked me to come here to value the villa – for my mother’s business, you remember – the one that was, but won’t be for much longer, too … pink.’

  He was caught between looking for something to cover himself with – there was a tea-towel he had covered the jug of water with on the table a few strides away – and looking at her rather amusing display of embarrassment. But both of those things came second to the words ‘value the villa’.

  ‘I thought she would be here … Spyridoula. I didn’t realise anyone was staying here. That you were staying here,’ Abby continued, head still bowed.

  ‘I’m not.’ The words were out before he had thought through the consequences. ‘Well, I am. I mean, I am the gardener and the man who fixes things, just for the summer.’ What was he doing? Why was he lying about who he was?

  ‘Do you have any clothes on yet?’ Abby asked, her voice a little tight. ‘It’s just smothering my face like this is making me rather hot.’

  OK, now he really did need to find something to cover himself with because the thought of her being hot in any way at all was causing a rather speedy and obvious reaction in parts of him it would be inappropriate to share in this situation. And the tea towel was definitely not going to be big enough. His eyes went to the other side of the pool and an awful bright green inflatable lilo Leon had brought up to the villa. ‘Give me one moment.’

  One moment! She needed him dressed now. Before the image of his naked body was ingrained on her mind for all eternity. If it wasn’t too late already. And what a naked body it was. The scream had been an immediate reaction to the desperate situation she had found herself in, completely unprepared for nudity. She had not been repelled by what she’d seen – the opposite of repelled, if she was honest with herself – but also taken aback and unprepared. Eyes still closed, her brain continued to show her a replay of the lean, muscular, sculpted, olive-skinned torso displayed like the most beautiful artwork. While she was screaming, just before he had heard and jumped to attention, her eyes had roved as if desperate to roll over every bronzed inch of him. No soft lines here, it was all deep angles, strong curves and … the complete opposite to Darrell. She swallowed, a bead of perspiration forming on her brow. She stuck out one finger, three and a thumb still covering her eyes, and removed it. Darrell had been her Mr Right. She had been so sure of that. And perfection came in lots of different forms. Except some people were just everyone’s idea of perfection and she had a feeling that was Theo. And what handyman-cum-gardener sunbathed naked in someone else’s garden anyway?

  ‘You can look now,’ Theo spoke. ‘Stop being so hot.’

  Abby swallowed again, tentatively removing her fingers and wondering just what she was going to find. The answer
was the naked man was still there, just with an inflatable held over his intimate parts. It only meant the toned pecs and ab-tastic stomach were more obvious. Professionalism. She was here representing Desperately Seeking.

  ‘I was not expecting anyone,’ Theo stated.

  ‘I think that was quite obvious.’ Abby concentrated on getting a rather nice checklist she had redesigned and printed off out of her handbag.

  ‘This morning I did some gardening,’ he continued, waving a hand towards the bordering bushes. ‘This afternoon I will be chopping wood and … sweeping.’

  She was no Alan Titchmarsh but, in her opinion, looking at the overflowing borders, he could have gone a little further with the secateurs. And who chopped wood in the middle of the summer?

  ‘Well, that’s very good. To be busy.’ She didn’t know what else to say to a man wearing a floating bed. ‘I will just be looking around, noting things down and then I will be out of your way.’ She sniffed, making a tick at the top of her list for no apparent reason other than deflection.

  ‘Please,’ Theo stated. ‘Let me put on some clothes and I will give you a tour.’

  ‘Really,’ Abby said. ‘There’s no need. I can—’

  ‘I insist,’ he answered. ‘Give me one moment.’

  He moved then, backing away across the terrace, the inflatable bed still held firm over everything she had already seen. Until he reached the bi-fold doors and seemed to realise fitting through with something so wide attached to him wasn’t going to happen. He turned, flinging the lilo down to the flagstones and giving her an excellent view of his rather peachy backside as he disappeared inside.

  Abby closed her eyes, then turned back to the equally beautiful view of the harbour below. San Stefanos really was so much different to Romsey.

  Eighteen

  ‘It’s so beautiful.’ Abby stood at the pillared wall overlooking the whole of the bay of San Stefanos. Theo, now dressed in black jeans and a grey vest, stood alongside her. It really was the whole tranquil-yet-buzzy-Greek-village package from up here. You could see everything, even pick out some individuals. Stathis on his bicycle, moving a lot more sedately than anyone walking. Maris from the supermarket, arms full of special-offer cans. Some of the guys from San Stefanos Boats throwing ropes and guiding tourists safely from the pontoon.

  ‘How old is the property?’ Abby asked, pen in hand and poised over her working sheet.

  ‘It was built in 1990, or thereabouts. I think that is what Mrs Pappas said.’

  He was an idiot. Why had he claimed to be a worker here and not the son of the owner? What was that going to achieve apart from making Abby think he was deceitful and dishonest? However, knowing that his father really did seem to intend to put the property on the market was eating at him. Maybe it was better Abby didn’t know he had any sort of vested interest for now. The appearance of impartiality was safer all round.

  ‘And Spyridoula is the owner.’ Abby made to write again. ‘Do you spell that with an “i” or a “y”?’

  ‘The house belongs to her brother.’ He swallowed.

  ‘Oh,’ Abby said. ‘Usually we would take instructions from the owner.’

  ‘Well,’ Theo stated. ‘I am certain the instructions will have come from him.’

  ‘What’s his name?’ Abby asked. ‘Do you happen to know?’

  He nodded. A snapshot of his father appeared front and centre in his mind’s eye. ‘It is Dinis.’

  ‘Right, D-e-n …’

  ‘D-i-n-i-s.’

  ‘Great. Thank you.’ She turned away from the view and took the steps towards the infinity pool that formed the rest of the boundary on this side of the property.

  It was a superb villa. He had never truly appreciated the luxury when he was growing up, but, seeing the reaction from a fresh set of eyes always made him think he should have been more grateful for the opulence back then, even if, to some extent, he was turning his back on it now.

  ‘This pool and the view. I think it will sell this property all on its own.’ She looked at him, smiling. ‘And I haven’t seen inside yet.’

  He knew she would think the inside was just as outstanding as the rest of it, or would be, had he made any effort to tidy up. But he didn’t really want to sell its merits when he didn’t want it sold at all.

  ‘There are only three bedrooms,’ he said quickly. ‘And the lounge area is compact.’

  ‘Can I see?’ Abby asked him. She had her phone out now and was busy snapping photographs. ‘I’m just taking these for now but, if Mr Pappas decides to go with Desperately Seeking, we will get some professional shots done to really show off the villa.’

  He didn’t want that. He knew a house in this area would be snapped up as soon as the details were loaded on the website. North-east Corfu was a property hot-spot. ‘It’s this way.’

  The house was just as lovely – as her mum would say – internally as it was outside. Marble floors throughout with beamed ceilings in light wood, a modern kitchen with every convenience, three en-suites, a family bathroom and a lounge/diner that could easily host a dinner party for ten. To Abby, that wasn’t compact but, she supposed, if you compared it to the vast terrace and outside entertaining space it was significantly smaller.

  ‘Mains water and electric I’m assuming,’ Abby said, her eyes still drawn to the vistas from every window. The views to the side and rear were of the mountain, its ruggedness swathed in green – cypress, carob and olive.

  ‘Yes,’ Theo replied.

  ‘Any gas?’ She turned then to look at him. He still looked a picture of hotness in those jeans and a vest that had slits up both sides, exposing almost as much torso as when he’d been topless. She had got decidedly flushed when he’d taken her into the master bedroom. His clothes, including Calvin Klein underwear, had been on the floor and he had hastily gathered them up, while she had looked at the bright white, yet crumpled bedsheets his gorgeous form had no doubt been lying in earlier. She cleared her throat and felt the need to prompt. ‘My mum has those gas bottles.’

  ‘Yes,’ he answered. ‘Here on Corfu we have many power cuts. We cannot always rely on electricity for cooking.’

  ‘I didn’t see a barbecue,’ Abby commented.

  ‘There is one,’ Theo answered. ‘You would like to see?’

  ‘It’s just for this list. My mum likes to have all bases covered.’ Abby smiled. ‘She’s very professional.’

  ‘You say this already.’

  ‘Have I?’ Abby asked. ‘Well, she is. We are.’ She cleared her throat for a second time.

  ‘You work here now?’ Theo asked, leading the way back towards the patio doors. ‘I thought you were here for a holiday.’

  ‘It’s a combo, you know, like … KFC.’ She swallowed, realising immediately how stupid she sounded but somehow unable to stop. ‘A little bit of everything.’

  ‘So, what is next for you today?’ Theo asked as they stepped back out onto the terrace.

  Immediately the fragrance of the blooms in those well-stocked traditional brick planters skirting the tiles filled Abby’s nose. What she wouldn’t give to have a place like this at her disposal. The sea almost within touching distance, a divine pool to dip into when the temperature hit sizzling and air-conditioned luxury only a few steps away … She shook herself. Corfu had been her mum’s dream. Her dream had been keeping a steady job and feathering her nest with Darrell. Reality bit hard.

  ‘I will be going back to the office, typing up my notes and preparing a valuation for Mrs Pappas …’

  ‘Spyridoula,’ Theo interrupted. ‘She is not married.’

  ‘She’s not? Sorry. I do keep assuming things, don’t I?’ Abby said. ‘Has she ever been married?’

  ‘No,’ Theo began. ‘I mean … perhaps. I do not know. I do not think so.’

  ‘Sorry, that was very nosy of me,’ Abby said.

  Theo smiled. ‘It was very San Stefanos of you.’

  She laughed then. ‘My mum always says you can’t suck the h
oney out of a baklava without everyone in the village knowing about it.’

  Why had she used the word ‘suck’? Her mother’s stupid saying was to blame! And now she was stuck thinking about sucking delicious, sweet, sticky, honey while looking into the dark mocha eyes of a handsome Greek.

  ‘Your mother is right,’ Theo replied.

  Now she was looking at his full lips, imagining he was sucking the baklava …

  ‘And then,’ Abby powered on, mouth moving as quick as she could make it. ‘I’m going to head into Acharavi to arrange some fliers for the business, coupling about fifty of them with an invitation to our party.’ There was no stopping her now. ‘You should come. There’s going to be food and wine and … a chance to win a fabulous prize.’ Where had that come from? They had vaguely discussed a raffle but on Desperately Seeking’s limited budget she really should limit the use of the word ‘fabulous’ when they might only have enough money for a bottle of supermarket own-brand champagne.

  ‘When is the party?’ Theo asked, appearing to be finding some amusement in her verbal diarrhoea.

  When was the party? They hadn’t actually firmed up a date. And she really did need a date if she was going to add the invitation section to the fliers she had planned.

  ‘Saturday.’ It was out of her mouth before her brain had processed ‘stop’.

  ‘This Saturday?’ Theo queried.

  She nodded, trying very much to keep her expression at ‘jubilation’ and not ‘holy shit’. ‘Yes, my mum is really keen to give everyone in the village a real taste of her plans for the rest of 2018 and beyond.’

  ‘What time is the party?’ Theo asked.

  ‘The afternoon. One o’clock.’ Well, that was settled.

  ‘I will come,’ Theo answered. ‘As long as I do not have to work.’

  ‘Good,’ Abby said. ‘That’s … lovely.’ She really must not turn into her mum, although perhaps developing some familiar traits might win her favour when she announced they were holding the party on Saturday. She would be lucky if Melody didn’t kill her. Or at the very least pull all her hair out.