‘I told Shelley not to call you.’ It was Hazel talking now and Becky could imagine her hanging up her bag and tying an apron around her waist. ‘I have found the list for tomorrow and a packet of Trebor mints I thought were gone forever so there’s no need to panic, dear.’
‘I’m panicking,’ Shelley said. ‘Because I’m shit-scared of Megan.’
‘Language, Shelley.’
‘She’s like one of those silent but deadly types. Quiet and controlled on the surface but underneath I reckon there’s a raging psycho ready for go-time. And… and she has all the tools in this kitchen to do unspeakable fucking things to every body part I own.’
‘Shelley, Hazel…’ Becky tried to talk.
‘Becky, dear, please ignore Shelley. She’s like this because she’s left Frank with the remote controller as well as the triplets and she thinks one of them is going to delete her series link for Hollyoaks. Now, you listen to me. We are both here tonight to get the specials orders ready for tomorrow if Megan really does make an appearance at 6 a.m. However, I saw Dean in the Co-op earlier and happened to mention how tired I thought Megan was looking lately and I wondered if perhaps a few later alarm calls this week might be in order. I said we had everything covered here and we were worried about her.’
Becky smiled and shook her head. Her colleagues were nothing short of geniuses at subterfuge. Should she feel pride? This was not like her. She was straight-down-the-line Becky except when it came to this. And this hadn’t ever really been about her. It had always been about her sister.
‘We are going to take care of everything, dear,’ Hazel continued. ‘And you are not to think about it for another minute. You are to continue exploring everything Greek – the weather, the food, the men.’
Immediately Becky’s mind was back to Elias and their ruined near-kiss in Kefalonia. He had felt so good in her arms, he had smelled so good…
‘Yeah, the men especially,’ Shelley broke in.
‘But keep safe, dear,’ Hazel added.
‘I gave her every flavour of condom I own,’ Shelley reminded. ‘But check the expiry, won’t you? Because some of them were freebies from the pub we booked our Sharon’s hen do in.’
The complete familiarity of her friends’ chatter rippled over Becky like the warm Corfu breeze blowing up her fringe. She let Hazel and Shelley carry on among themselves as she looked out at the water. There were boats a little way from the shore, some with tall, pointed masts that sails would appear on tomorrow morning, others luxurious bowriders with cabin space underneath. Were there people aboard? Couples cosying up together and steaming up the portholes? What would that feel like?
‘Becks! Come and help me eat the signomi!’ Petra shouted from the taverna above.
Somehow her housemate had still not realised signomi was not the word for ‘ice cream’.
‘I’ve got to go now,’ Becky told them both. ‘But thank you. Thank you both for what you’re doing. Even though Megan doesn’t know it, we are all helping save her business.’ Maybe even save her. She kept that thought to herself.
‘You’re an excellent sister, dear,’ Hazel told her. ‘One day she will realise that.’
‘But not tomorrow,’ Shelley said. ‘Because I don’t want to be having to hide the garlic crusher or the apple cutter if she turns all Friday the 13th.’
‘Bye,’ Becky said, a smile on her face.
‘Bye, dear.’
‘Bye! And, you know, don’t forget what I said about the condoms.’
Thirty-Two
Villa Selino, Kerasia
‘You won’t believe it,’ Petra called. ‘I’ve found two more sets of car keys and another set labelled with the word “garage”.’ She bounced up and down on the spot like she was attached to a pogo-stick. ‘That thing covered in weeds might not be our only ride!’
It was the following mid-morning and Becky had been up early to take in the beginnings of a Corfu day with one of the last spoonsful of coffee and a scraping of dried milk powder. They really did need to get some groceries today. There had been signs of a little shop on the beach, but it hadn’t been open last night and Becky suspected it was more for inflatable doughnuts and snorkel masks than it was for bread and milk. After her coffee she had taken up residence at one of the rattan-style tables and started proper work on her catering pitch for the nursing home. So far it was going well. It had structure and order and was peppered with all the good memories of war times and VE Day celebrations. Bunting, beef dripping and eggless cakes to tie in the rationing aspect, without missing out on any of the flavour. She simply needed to hone the pricing more accurately, making sure she had accounted for every ingredient, then mark it up enough so It’s A Wrap made an excellent profit, but also ensure the client wasn’t put off by the end price. Becky might not have professionally pitched for the company before, but she knew all about costings and was an avid watcher of The Apprentice. There was no way her task of securing this party was going to melt like artisan ice lollies or sink like Tommy the Talking Turtle…
‘Where are you going?’ Becky called as Petra – dressed in one of those one-piece swimsuits that showed all your hips – danced past her, keys jingling between her fingers.
‘I’m going to look for the other cars,’ Petra announced. ‘Can you imagine what they might be? I mean, this place is high-end now the critters have gone. Did you know there’s a TV that pops up out of the breakfast bar? I had to press the button a few times but then it rose up like… like…’
Becky braced herself and closed her eyes hoping Petra wasn’t going to mention anyone’s erection.
‘Like the moon last night,’ Petra finished with a gentle smile. ‘Or the sun this morning.’
Becky opened her eyes and looked to her housemate. ‘You were awake when the sun rose this morning?’ It seemed unlikely that Petra was an early riser. It had been after one a.m. before they had gone to bed and Petra had been reluctant to go then, declaring it way way too early.
‘I ran 4k this morning at 6 a.m. I found the little village. It’s sweet. In a little village kind of way. It had nice flowers and houses all on top of each other with washing hanging out and rusty sunbeds on front porches. Oh, and there were a couple of cute dogs I almost brought back with me.’
‘Petra, no,’ Becky said. ‘We can’t have animals in here.’
‘I know! Keep your knickers on!’
Had Petra really gone out at 6 a.m.? And why hadn’t Becky heard her leave? She was supposed to be in charge of the home’s security. How was that working if she didn’t even know when someone had left the property?
‘Ooo! I’ve found a garage!’
Now Becky was on her feet. Perhaps the wreck of a car wasn’t the one they were supposed to be using. It did seem at odds with the rest of the house being bright and elegant. But surely if she was meant to find a car in the garage, Ms O’Neill might have said something. Perhaps she wasn’t meant to go in the garage at all. ‘Petra! Wait!’
‘What for? We need transport, don’t we?’ Petra called.