Real Friends
by Alasdair McPherson
Genre: Romance
Swearwords: None.
Description: A holiday romance becomes the love of his life.
_____________________________________________________________________
James and I became best friends by the accident of waiting at the same time for interviews for the jobs we now have. From my village on the fringe of the Highlands I had come down from Glasgow on the first shuttle flight while he had only to cross the Thames. He used a bridge but he would have easily convinced you that he could walk on water.
He was a cheeky Cockney chap born and bred in London who showed his nerves by becoming more voluble and wittier than his exuberant normal self. Rather edgy and highly-strung he strutted and joked his way through life. I showed my apprehension by becoming quieter and quieter, responding to his sallies with no more than a grunt or two.
I was interviewed first and I was still standing dithering outside the imposing city building where we now work when James came out, punched me lightly on the arm and led me round the corner to the nearest pub.
He is awesome: he seems to know everyone in London and everything about the town. He found me comfortable digs and introduced me to all his mates when I arrived in the capital alone, terrified and friendless. Thanks to James I settled to life in the big city quickly and easily. Within a month I had got to know more people than in my years at school and university.
We worked in different departments three floors apart but we met every day for lunch and spent most of our evenings together. I had planned to visit theatres and concerts but James easily persuaded me to try greyhound racing and billiard halls. We have nothing in common but he seemed to like my rather plodding, safe character that is such a contrast to his own.
About three months after we started work, he announced that we were going to Corfu on holiday.
“I don’t know, James. Resorts are not really my thing. I usually go somewhere with a bit of history.”
“Corfu has history. Stands to reason that it has history; the Trojan horse and Venus arising from the foam and all that.”
I had to smile as I let myself be talked into visiting what James pictured as a sort of dumping ground for Greek history.
James booked eight of us into a hotel in Kavos, a resort at the south of the island. It was not until I bought a guide book that I realised it was the nightlife capital of the island. A girl who worked on the same floor as James was coming with her boyfriend: “we’re almost engaged”. The man at the desk next to mine was bringing his girlfriend of a few months: “nothing serious, you know, more like friends”.
The other two in our party worked in reception. James had been dating Elaine since we started and she was bringing her friend, Helen.
“Helen really fancies you,” James assured me. “Don’t know myself what she sees in a great hairy Scotsman but there’s no accounting for taste!”
We took a late flight because it was much cheaper so it was almost two o’clock in the morning before we arrived by coach at our hotel. We were all so tired that we went straight to our rooms: even James was too exhausted to want to party.
As promised in the brochure, the next morning dawned warm and sunny and the buffet breakfast was tasty. James and I were sharing a room and his snoring had driven me out at about six o’clock so I walked along beyond the hotels to a part of the beach where the local fishermen were hauling their boats up after a night at sea. Their catch was already on its way to market but the tang of fresh fish and the screaming of the scavenging gulls brought back happy memories.
When I got back only Helen had surfaced. She and I settled in loungers on the sand close to the terraced bar. Elaine joined us after about ten minutes, griping that Helen had left their shared bathroom in a mess, but it was another hour before James made an appearance. Day-Glo Bermuda shorts and a t-shirt inviting you to ‘Look at me, Folks’ coupled with fake tan and ray bans certainly earned him some attention!
Helen and I got on rather well after a somewhat slow start. I tried a number of topics of conversation without much success until she told me about her little nephew. Her sister’s first baby was six months old and it was abundantly clear that his aunt adored him. She soon had us all smiling and ‘oohing’ over all the cute things he had done. I like babies so it was no hardship for me to look at photographs of the infant prodigy; James made no secret of his boredom.
“My sister has babies. They yell at one end and shit at the other, and if you lift them up they puke on your shirt.”
Helen seemed really interested in my meeting the fisherman and by lunchtime we were all relaxed and mellow. James had kept us laughing with disparaging remarks about the other hotel guests on the beach and I was content to sit quietly yielding centre stage to him.
At lunch I was teased because I had fruit instead of burger and chips. Elaine did say that she wished she had the willpower to resist burgers; James and Helen just looked at each other and smirked.
When we returned to our loungers the arrangement changed. James was between the two girls while I was on the outside next to Elaine. She, naturally enough, gave most of her attention to him and he gave most of his to Helen.
By five o’clock a sea breeze had made the temperature less enervating so I suggested to Helen that we walk along the beach to look at the fishing boats.
“Are you nuts? There’s a good two hours of sun left and I need to do some serious work on my tan.”
“Let me put some more sun cream on for you Helen,” James giggled.
I had been teased, I had been ignored and now I had been snubbed so I stomped off to take the walk on my own. When I got back they had gone to their rooms to get ready for the evening. James had already showered and he was lying on the bed with a towel around his waist trying to find an English programme on television.
“We’re going to a nightclub – restaurant, casino, dancing, the works! I’ve ordered two taxis.”
“Am I invited?”
“Don’t be a prat. You’re the number one man. You’re not going to get all sulky are you?”
I would have liked to say ‘yes’ but I bit my tongue and was in reception at eight o’clock in tailored slacks and a short-sleeved shirt. The other guys were in shorts and t-shirts so I felt as if I had goofed again. Worse was to follow.
James ushered Elaine into the second taxi then got in himself and reached out a hand to Helen to pull her in beside him. I was stepping forward to get in when Helen leaned out the taxi door and looked me in the eye.
“Forget it,” she said. “I’m not travelling in a taxi with a pervert. Get another cab if you’re coming.”
She pulled the door shut and the taxi drove off leaving me red-faced and open-mouthed on the pavement.
I stood until the taxi was out of sight then turned and went back into the hotel. My instinct, as always, was to run away but I took myself in hand and went up to my room to get the guide book. I decided to sit in the bar and plan how to enjoy the rest of my holiday alone.
“Anywhere interesting around here?”
I turned to see a man about my height but probably in his early thirties to my mid-twenties. He had taken the bar stool next to me and he tapped my guide book to show what he meant.
“I’m thinking of walking to the southern tip of the island tomorrow. There’s an old monastery and wonderful views of the Ionian Sea: says so in the book, anyway.”
“Sounds interesting. Would you mind some company on the walk?”
“I’m certainly not getting any company from the party I came with,” I whinged.
His sympathetic approach opened the floodgates and I poured out all my woes to him. I told him how my supposed best friend had undermined me with Helen: “He only brought me so he could make a move on her. I bet he will try to get me to take Elaine off his hands.”
At that point two very pretty ladies arrived and came over to talk to him.
“This is my wife, Gwen, and this brat is my sister Fiona. I’m Ian, by the way!”
We bought drinks for the ladies and Ian insisted that I join them at a corner table. Gwen is a brunette with smiling eyes and a gentle, musical voice. She sat between Ian and me making sure that she included all of us in the conversation. Fiona is a redhead whose features seemed to be set in a scowl. I was sitting opposite her and whenever I looked up she had a rather blank look in her eyes.
I think the only time she spoke was when Ian mentioned the monastery. She knew all about it, that it was a ruin and that the view really was spectacular. She agreed to the walk with a marked lack of enthusiasm but Gwen more than made up for that.
“The country is beautiful, the views are spectacular and the company is charming. It will be a day to remember.” With that, she went off to reception to order packed lunches for all of us. Ian was reading my guide book so that left Fiona and me glowering at each other in a rather strained silence.
I hardly noticed James’ return to the room in the early hours and he did not stir when I let myself out at a few minutes before six. We had decided to do the climb, gentle as it was, before it got too hot.
Gwen and Fiona led the way with Ian and me strolling along behind. I had never met anyone quite like him and I found myself confiding things that I had not before mentioned even to my family. I told him my ambitions for the future and in return he told me of his work and their plans to start a family.
He and Gwen had married four years before but had missed out on a honeymoon so they could work together to get their craft shop well established. His father was running the business to give them this week together.
Fiona had not been in the plans to start with but she had recently had a heart-breaking separation from her long-term boyfriend so Gwen insisted that she join them.
The monastery, when we reached it, was nothing very special but the sea view was spectacular. The sea was so clear that you could see the light sandy bottom punctuated by rocks and beds of seaweed. In the distance the island of Paxos was visible although it was already beginning to waver and scintillate as the morning heat made the air unstable.
We ate our lunches in companionable silence enraptured by the view then we walked back to a local taverna in almost as dilapidated condition as the ruined monastery. We sat outside drinking a cloudy local wine from pottery mugs.
“How does the wine stay so cool?” Gwen wondered.
“The jug is porous and the wine percolating through evaporates cooling the contents,” I told her.
"Another super smarty,” Gwen groaned looking pointedly at Fiona.
“I’ll bet you knew that.”
“I thought everyone knew it.”
It could have sounded churlish but Gwen just laughed. Fiona blushed, touched her sister-in-law’s arm and mouthed ‘sorry’. Then she turned to me and asked if I was a scientist.
She had a degree in Chemistry to set against my degree in Physics so we found quite enough to talk about to keep us chatting all the way back to the hotel while Gwen and Ian trailed after us hand in hand.
While the girls went to freshen up, Ian and I took drinks to the table we had sat at the evening before. Once again I was facing Fiona but what a change! Last evening she was sullenly pretty but now she was beautiful with her eyes sparkling. She smiled often and showed a remarkable knowledge of Corfu and its history. Everything I knew came from my guidebook but she really seemed to have studied the island in depth and she described it with such vivacity that we were spellbound.
She was describing the wonders of Corfu town when Ian announced that he was hiring a car the next day to take us all to the capital of the island.
“So my baby sister can impress us all with how smart she is!”
Before we could respond to this sally, Helen stormed in to stand behind Fiona’s seat and demand that I go with her for what she described as ‘a good talk’. I apologised and left my three friends while I trailed after Helen onto the beach.
When we were out of earshot of the hotel bar she turned and confronted me.
“I suppose you expect me to apologise,” she began. “Well, I’m not going to. James said you were a pervert and he’s your best mate, so I believed him. It’s not my fault.”
“That’s OK. It would have been nice if you had given me a chance to explain but I have no hard feelings.”
“Good! So what are we doing tomorrow? Just so long as we are well away from that creep James.”
“I haven’t really decided yet about tomorrow.”
“The rest of them are at that sea food place on the beach. We can talk about it as we go. Unless you want to go back to that whey-faced ginger-nut that you were drooling over.”
I turned towards the hotel in time to see Fiona storming off to her room giving me a look that froze my heart.
That was the moment when I realised that Helen was so shallow that she and I would never find anything to say to each other. I also realised that Fiona was the girl I had hardly dared to dream about. Helen took my arm and I meekly followed her along the beach to join the others at the restaurant.
This was only the second day of my holiday and I had already been betrayed by my best friend, had my date believe whatever evil she was told about me and had met and lost a girl I could have spent my life adoring.
“All’s fair in love and war,” was James’ only comment as he sat with his arm around Elaine when Helen and I arrived. The other four were having a great time and noticed nothing wrong but James was on edge clearly wondering how I would react.
Helen was almost as quiet as I was during the meal and neither of us took any part in the discussion of the plans for the next day. I did not listen to the chat for I was getting more and more angry throughout the meal. That anger was mainly directed at myself: I had allowed other people to take me in the direction they wanted and I had only myself to blame for letting myself be led.
It took all my self-control, however, to stop prodding James into a fight. I really felt the need to punch him hard! It was an effort to get up and the end of the meal and leave quietly. I think that I only managed to stay cool because I thought James would just make me look even more foolish if I argued.
“I was up at five this morning so I’m going to turn in. I won’t come with you tomorrow. Goodnight.”
Helen stood up when I did but James grabbed her arm and pulled her back into her seat.
“Let him go – he’s nothing but a dour Scot when all is said and done.”
Next morning I was up early to avoid talking to James and I went back to watch the fishing fleet until I was sure that my former friends had gone. Then I put on my best shorts and a smart shirt and went off to queue for the local bus into Corfu town. I was thinking black thoughts about myself and how much better I could have handled things with Fiona, ignoring my fellow travellers.
At the bus stop there were four or five Britons trying to form an orderly line with about a dozen locals milling about. I was lost in my thoughts when I was shaken by the shoulder and came to myself to find locals and visitors looking at me and laughing.
Ian was hanging out the window of a car parked at the kerb waving and shouting my name while Gwen was tooting the horn with great vigour. It seems that I was the only person in Kavos who had failed to notice the commotion!
I joined in the laughter, a bit sheepishly, and was propelled towards the car by friendly pats from the local men. Gwen got into the back seat and I was sitting beside Ian fastening my seat belt before I had taken a breath. Fiona sitting in the back beside Gwen was the only person not laughing.
Ian and Gwen kept up a happy chatter as he drove towards the town and I relaxed enough after the first few minutes to join in. Fiona answered direct questions as briefly as possible but otherwise took no part in the conversations.
After we parked we sat over coffees while Fiona outlined her plan for our day of sightseeing. When we set off it was in our old formation of Gwen and Fiona in the lead with Ian and me behind them. Gwen kept turning round to try to bring all of us into the conversation but Fiona just walked quietly on.
We stopped to look at a façade in a small square that dated from the time when the Venetians owned Corfu.
“Of course the English were in charge here for a time too, “ Fiona told us.
“I didn’t know that,” I said. “Are there any reminders of their rule that we can see?”
Fiona shrugged and said she did not know of any but even a shrug seemed to me a sign of slight thawing. I was wondering if there had been the merest hint of a smile when I asked my question so I was past an antique shop window when it registered that I had noticed something.
I turned back and the others followed as I peered in the window. There on display was an English Georgian chest of drawers. Fiona stopped beside me and insisted that we go in for a closer look. I pulled out drawers to look at the dovetails and checked on the escutcheons, locks and handles. She was fascinated and demanded that I explained the significance of each discovery.
Even when I began to explain that mahogany had originally been brought to Britain as cheap packing material for deck cargo she showed no sign of impatience although I know from past experience that I am eye-glazingly boring on the subject
Neither of us noticed that Ian and Gwen had gone on down the street.
Eventually I smiled at Fiona. “Proof that the English were here!”
“Did you doubt me?” she smiled back.
We left the shop together and walked side by side in the narrow street with our hands sometimes touching when the press of people pushed us together. Then my fairy godmother appeared in the form of a donkey, braying as it erupted from a side street.
Fiona was startled into clutching my hand. Then our fingers entwined and I do not intend to ever let her go.
Swearwords: None.
Description: A holiday romance becomes the love of his life.
_____________________________________________________________________
James and I became best friends by the accident of waiting at the same time for interviews for the jobs we now have. From my village on the fringe of the Highlands I had come down from Glasgow on the first shuttle flight while he had only to cross the Thames. He used a bridge but he would have easily convinced you that he could walk on water.
He was a cheeky Cockney chap born and bred in London who showed his nerves by becoming more voluble and wittier than his exuberant normal self. Rather edgy and highly-strung he strutted and joked his way through life. I showed my apprehension by becoming quieter and quieter, responding to his sallies with no more than a grunt or two.
I was interviewed first and I was still standing dithering outside the imposing city building where we now work when James came out, punched me lightly on the arm and led me round the corner to the nearest pub.
He is awesome: he seems to know everyone in London and everything about the town. He found me comfortable digs and introduced me to all his mates when I arrived in the capital alone, terrified and friendless. Thanks to James I settled to life in the big city quickly and easily. Within a month I had got to know more people than in my years at school and university.
We worked in different departments three floors apart but we met every day for lunch and spent most of our evenings together. I had planned to visit theatres and concerts but James easily persuaded me to try greyhound racing and billiard halls. We have nothing in common but he seemed to like my rather plodding, safe character that is such a contrast to his own.
About three months after we started work, he announced that we were going to Corfu on holiday.
“I don’t know, James. Resorts are not really my thing. I usually go somewhere with a bit of history.”
“Corfu has history. Stands to reason that it has history; the Trojan horse and Venus arising from the foam and all that.”
I had to smile as I let myself be talked into visiting what James pictured as a sort of dumping ground for Greek history.
James booked eight of us into a hotel in Kavos, a resort at the south of the island. It was not until I bought a guide book that I realised it was the nightlife capital of the island. A girl who worked on the same floor as James was coming with her boyfriend: “we’re almost engaged”. The man at the desk next to mine was bringing his girlfriend of a few months: “nothing serious, you know, more like friends”.
The other two in our party worked in reception. James had been dating Elaine since we started and she was bringing her friend, Helen.
“Helen really fancies you,” James assured me. “Don’t know myself what she sees in a great hairy Scotsman but there’s no accounting for taste!”
We took a late flight because it was much cheaper so it was almost two o’clock in the morning before we arrived by coach at our hotel. We were all so tired that we went straight to our rooms: even James was too exhausted to want to party.
As promised in the brochure, the next morning dawned warm and sunny and the buffet breakfast was tasty. James and I were sharing a room and his snoring had driven me out at about six o’clock so I walked along beyond the hotels to a part of the beach where the local fishermen were hauling their boats up after a night at sea. Their catch was already on its way to market but the tang of fresh fish and the screaming of the scavenging gulls brought back happy memories.
When I got back only Helen had surfaced. She and I settled in loungers on the sand close to the terraced bar. Elaine joined us after about ten minutes, griping that Helen had left their shared bathroom in a mess, but it was another hour before James made an appearance. Day-Glo Bermuda shorts and a t-shirt inviting you to ‘Look at me, Folks’ coupled with fake tan and ray bans certainly earned him some attention!
Helen and I got on rather well after a somewhat slow start. I tried a number of topics of conversation without much success until she told me about her little nephew. Her sister’s first baby was six months old and it was abundantly clear that his aunt adored him. She soon had us all smiling and ‘oohing’ over all the cute things he had done. I like babies so it was no hardship for me to look at photographs of the infant prodigy; James made no secret of his boredom.
“My sister has babies. They yell at one end and shit at the other, and if you lift them up they puke on your shirt.”
Helen seemed really interested in my meeting the fisherman and by lunchtime we were all relaxed and mellow. James had kept us laughing with disparaging remarks about the other hotel guests on the beach and I was content to sit quietly yielding centre stage to him.
At lunch I was teased because I had fruit instead of burger and chips. Elaine did say that she wished she had the willpower to resist burgers; James and Helen just looked at each other and smirked.
When we returned to our loungers the arrangement changed. James was between the two girls while I was on the outside next to Elaine. She, naturally enough, gave most of her attention to him and he gave most of his to Helen.
By five o’clock a sea breeze had made the temperature less enervating so I suggested to Helen that we walk along the beach to look at the fishing boats.
“Are you nuts? There’s a good two hours of sun left and I need to do some serious work on my tan.”
“Let me put some more sun cream on for you Helen,” James giggled.
I had been teased, I had been ignored and now I had been snubbed so I stomped off to take the walk on my own. When I got back they had gone to their rooms to get ready for the evening. James had already showered and he was lying on the bed with a towel around his waist trying to find an English programme on television.
“We’re going to a nightclub – restaurant, casino, dancing, the works! I’ve ordered two taxis.”
“Am I invited?”
“Don’t be a prat. You’re the number one man. You’re not going to get all sulky are you?”
I would have liked to say ‘yes’ but I bit my tongue and was in reception at eight o’clock in tailored slacks and a short-sleeved shirt. The other guys were in shorts and t-shirts so I felt as if I had goofed again. Worse was to follow.
James ushered Elaine into the second taxi then got in himself and reached out a hand to Helen to pull her in beside him. I was stepping forward to get in when Helen leaned out the taxi door and looked me in the eye.
“Forget it,” she said. “I’m not travelling in a taxi with a pervert. Get another cab if you’re coming.”
She pulled the door shut and the taxi drove off leaving me red-faced and open-mouthed on the pavement.
I stood until the taxi was out of sight then turned and went back into the hotel. My instinct, as always, was to run away but I took myself in hand and went up to my room to get the guide book. I decided to sit in the bar and plan how to enjoy the rest of my holiday alone.
“Anywhere interesting around here?”
I turned to see a man about my height but probably in his early thirties to my mid-twenties. He had taken the bar stool next to me and he tapped my guide book to show what he meant.
“I’m thinking of walking to the southern tip of the island tomorrow. There’s an old monastery and wonderful views of the Ionian Sea: says so in the book, anyway.”
“Sounds interesting. Would you mind some company on the walk?”
“I’m certainly not getting any company from the party I came with,” I whinged.
His sympathetic approach opened the floodgates and I poured out all my woes to him. I told him how my supposed best friend had undermined me with Helen: “He only brought me so he could make a move on her. I bet he will try to get me to take Elaine off his hands.”
At that point two very pretty ladies arrived and came over to talk to him.
“This is my wife, Gwen, and this brat is my sister Fiona. I’m Ian, by the way!”
We bought drinks for the ladies and Ian insisted that I join them at a corner table. Gwen is a brunette with smiling eyes and a gentle, musical voice. She sat between Ian and me making sure that she included all of us in the conversation. Fiona is a redhead whose features seemed to be set in a scowl. I was sitting opposite her and whenever I looked up she had a rather blank look in her eyes.
I think the only time she spoke was when Ian mentioned the monastery. She knew all about it, that it was a ruin and that the view really was spectacular. She agreed to the walk with a marked lack of enthusiasm but Gwen more than made up for that.
“The country is beautiful, the views are spectacular and the company is charming. It will be a day to remember.” With that, she went off to reception to order packed lunches for all of us. Ian was reading my guide book so that left Fiona and me glowering at each other in a rather strained silence.
I hardly noticed James’ return to the room in the early hours and he did not stir when I let myself out at a few minutes before six. We had decided to do the climb, gentle as it was, before it got too hot.
Gwen and Fiona led the way with Ian and me strolling along behind. I had never met anyone quite like him and I found myself confiding things that I had not before mentioned even to my family. I told him my ambitions for the future and in return he told me of his work and their plans to start a family.
He and Gwen had married four years before but had missed out on a honeymoon so they could work together to get their craft shop well established. His father was running the business to give them this week together.
Fiona had not been in the plans to start with but she had recently had a heart-breaking separation from her long-term boyfriend so Gwen insisted that she join them.
The monastery, when we reached it, was nothing very special but the sea view was spectacular. The sea was so clear that you could see the light sandy bottom punctuated by rocks and beds of seaweed. In the distance the island of Paxos was visible although it was already beginning to waver and scintillate as the morning heat made the air unstable.
We ate our lunches in companionable silence enraptured by the view then we walked back to a local taverna in almost as dilapidated condition as the ruined monastery. We sat outside drinking a cloudy local wine from pottery mugs.
“How does the wine stay so cool?” Gwen wondered.
“The jug is porous and the wine percolating through evaporates cooling the contents,” I told her.
"Another super smarty,” Gwen groaned looking pointedly at Fiona.
“I’ll bet you knew that.”
“I thought everyone knew it.”
It could have sounded churlish but Gwen just laughed. Fiona blushed, touched her sister-in-law’s arm and mouthed ‘sorry’. Then she turned to me and asked if I was a scientist.
She had a degree in Chemistry to set against my degree in Physics so we found quite enough to talk about to keep us chatting all the way back to the hotel while Gwen and Ian trailed after us hand in hand.
While the girls went to freshen up, Ian and I took drinks to the table we had sat at the evening before. Once again I was facing Fiona but what a change! Last evening she was sullenly pretty but now she was beautiful with her eyes sparkling. She smiled often and showed a remarkable knowledge of Corfu and its history. Everything I knew came from my guidebook but she really seemed to have studied the island in depth and she described it with such vivacity that we were spellbound.
She was describing the wonders of Corfu town when Ian announced that he was hiring a car the next day to take us all to the capital of the island.
“So my baby sister can impress us all with how smart she is!”
Before we could respond to this sally, Helen stormed in to stand behind Fiona’s seat and demand that I go with her for what she described as ‘a good talk’. I apologised and left my three friends while I trailed after Helen onto the beach.
When we were out of earshot of the hotel bar she turned and confronted me.
“I suppose you expect me to apologise,” she began. “Well, I’m not going to. James said you were a pervert and he’s your best mate, so I believed him. It’s not my fault.”
“That’s OK. It would have been nice if you had given me a chance to explain but I have no hard feelings.”
“Good! So what are we doing tomorrow? Just so long as we are well away from that creep James.”
“I haven’t really decided yet about tomorrow.”
“The rest of them are at that sea food place on the beach. We can talk about it as we go. Unless you want to go back to that whey-faced ginger-nut that you were drooling over.”
I turned towards the hotel in time to see Fiona storming off to her room giving me a look that froze my heart.
That was the moment when I realised that Helen was so shallow that she and I would never find anything to say to each other. I also realised that Fiona was the girl I had hardly dared to dream about. Helen took my arm and I meekly followed her along the beach to join the others at the restaurant.
This was only the second day of my holiday and I had already been betrayed by my best friend, had my date believe whatever evil she was told about me and had met and lost a girl I could have spent my life adoring.
“All’s fair in love and war,” was James’ only comment as he sat with his arm around Elaine when Helen and I arrived. The other four were having a great time and noticed nothing wrong but James was on edge clearly wondering how I would react.
Helen was almost as quiet as I was during the meal and neither of us took any part in the discussion of the plans for the next day. I did not listen to the chat for I was getting more and more angry throughout the meal. That anger was mainly directed at myself: I had allowed other people to take me in the direction they wanted and I had only myself to blame for letting myself be led.
It took all my self-control, however, to stop prodding James into a fight. I really felt the need to punch him hard! It was an effort to get up and the end of the meal and leave quietly. I think that I only managed to stay cool because I thought James would just make me look even more foolish if I argued.
“I was up at five this morning so I’m going to turn in. I won’t come with you tomorrow. Goodnight.”
Helen stood up when I did but James grabbed her arm and pulled her back into her seat.
“Let him go – he’s nothing but a dour Scot when all is said and done.”
Next morning I was up early to avoid talking to James and I went back to watch the fishing fleet until I was sure that my former friends had gone. Then I put on my best shorts and a smart shirt and went off to queue for the local bus into Corfu town. I was thinking black thoughts about myself and how much better I could have handled things with Fiona, ignoring my fellow travellers.
At the bus stop there were four or five Britons trying to form an orderly line with about a dozen locals milling about. I was lost in my thoughts when I was shaken by the shoulder and came to myself to find locals and visitors looking at me and laughing.
Ian was hanging out the window of a car parked at the kerb waving and shouting my name while Gwen was tooting the horn with great vigour. It seems that I was the only person in Kavos who had failed to notice the commotion!
I joined in the laughter, a bit sheepishly, and was propelled towards the car by friendly pats from the local men. Gwen got into the back seat and I was sitting beside Ian fastening my seat belt before I had taken a breath. Fiona sitting in the back beside Gwen was the only person not laughing.
Ian and Gwen kept up a happy chatter as he drove towards the town and I relaxed enough after the first few minutes to join in. Fiona answered direct questions as briefly as possible but otherwise took no part in the conversations.
After we parked we sat over coffees while Fiona outlined her plan for our day of sightseeing. When we set off it was in our old formation of Gwen and Fiona in the lead with Ian and me behind them. Gwen kept turning round to try to bring all of us into the conversation but Fiona just walked quietly on.
We stopped to look at a façade in a small square that dated from the time when the Venetians owned Corfu.
“Of course the English were in charge here for a time too, “ Fiona told us.
“I didn’t know that,” I said. “Are there any reminders of their rule that we can see?”
Fiona shrugged and said she did not know of any but even a shrug seemed to me a sign of slight thawing. I was wondering if there had been the merest hint of a smile when I asked my question so I was past an antique shop window when it registered that I had noticed something.
I turned back and the others followed as I peered in the window. There on display was an English Georgian chest of drawers. Fiona stopped beside me and insisted that we go in for a closer look. I pulled out drawers to look at the dovetails and checked on the escutcheons, locks and handles. She was fascinated and demanded that I explained the significance of each discovery.
Even when I began to explain that mahogany had originally been brought to Britain as cheap packing material for deck cargo she showed no sign of impatience although I know from past experience that I am eye-glazingly boring on the subject
Neither of us noticed that Ian and Gwen had gone on down the street.
Eventually I smiled at Fiona. “Proof that the English were here!”
“Did you doubt me?” she smiled back.
We left the shop together and walked side by side in the narrow street with our hands sometimes touching when the press of people pushed us together. Then my fairy godmother appeared in the form of a donkey, braying as it erupted from a side street.
Fiona was startled into clutching my hand. Then our fingers entwined and I do not intend to ever let her go.
About the Author
Originally from Dalmuir, Alasdair McPherson is now retired and living in exile in Lincolnshire.
He says he has always wanted to write, but life got in the way until recently. He has already penned four novels and is now trying his hand at short stories. His latest novel, The Island, is a McStorytellers publication.
You can read Alasdair's full profile on McVoices.
He says he has always wanted to write, but life got in the way until recently. He has already penned four novels and is now trying his hand at short stories. His latest novel, The Island, is a McStorytellers publication.
You can read Alasdair's full profile on McVoices.