With Becky’s finger hovering over the ‘send’ button on the email to the nursing home with the party pitch attached, she was distracted by Petra’s plight and decided to test if she was listening.
‘Petra, would you like to borrow my book?’ From her position, on a daybed a few loungers down, Becky waved her copy of How to Find the Love of Your Life or Die Trying.
No answer. Maybe she was enveloped in music, listening to the latest from Ellie Golding or someone…
‘Would you like some water? Or another coffee?’ Becky tried again.
Usually, offering to wait on Petra got a response, even if her whole head was ensconced in a towel after the shower.
‘I don’t want another coffee if you’re going to put more ouzo in it.’
Yes! Petra might be snapping back but she was listening and engaging.
‘Oh, you noticed.’ Becky got up, still holding the book.
‘What was the plan with that?’ Petra asked, head still facing the pool and the view beyond. ‘Get the orphan girl softly pissed so she doesn’t cry anymore?’
‘No. Petra, no, of course not.’
Petra moved then, swinging her legs over the side of the daybed and standing up. She was a lot taller than Becky in those wedged sliders she had on.
‘And as for your book. I wouldn’t wipe my arse with it.’ Petra grabbed the tome out of Becky’s hands and glared at it like she might want to psych it into having an arm-wrestle with her. ‘I mean who is Camilla Forth anyway? Because she sounds like a stuck-up bitch to me. Writing books about love and life like she’s an authority on it. I bet she hasn’t had as much experience as me.’
‘I… don’t expect she has. Although there is a paragraph at the back about her degree in—’
‘And there we are! That’s it exactly!’ Petra flapped her arms in the air, agitated.
‘What’s it exactly?’ Becky asked.
‘It’s all about degrees and certificates and letters after your name, isn’t it? If you don’t have a magic piece of paper or a knighthood you can only get a crappy job like… like… carrying people’s bags or something.’
‘You want a job?’ Becky asked. She was astounded. She had almost choked on the sentence. Serial holiday-er Petra wanted to join a workforce?
‘No… well… maybe… I don’t know.’ She sighed. ‘Because my parents left me and I bombed my A-levels because they left me and then I thought “travel”, see some of the things they had seen and all the things they never got to see and, you know, I’ve worked a bar and I’ve picked fruit but I don’t want to do that for the rest of my life. But what do I do for the rest of my life?’
The tears were coming back and the aggression about her situation was subsiding. Petra’s shoulders slumped and Becky stepped forward, wrapping her arms around her friend.
‘Petra, you do know you’re the most interesting person I’ve ever met,’ Becky told her.
‘You said you live in a Wiltshire backwater where the big news of the week is how much lead has been stolen from the church roof.’
‘You’re still the most interesting person I’ve ever met and the most resourceful. I mean, you are not scared of jumping headfirst into anything and I am so, so jealous of those skills.’
‘Anyone and everyone can be reckless though,’ Petra said, sniffing back tears.
‘Oh really?’ Becky answered. ‘Because you’ve seen me being totally reckless the whole time we’ve known each other.’
‘You were reckless in your own way by even coming to Greece and housesitting for some antiquities hoarder,’ Petra replied. ‘You stood up to your sister and told her you were having this break whether she fired you or not.’
Becky had forgotten she had told Petra all that. And she still didn’t know if she had been fired because there had been zero communication from Megan. She had had a couple of really odd texts from Hazel and Shelley too. They’d both said ‘Elsa is coming’ and Becky had no idea who Elsa was. Her first thought was someone from the nursing home, but the manageress was definitely called Stephanie. Oh, what was going to happen when she came home? Would Megan have changed the locks? Was sending that pitch to the care home going to add fuel to the fire? Or perhaps, if she had been given the boot, she had no authority to make the pitch on behalf of It’s A Wrap anymore…
‘You make connections with people,’ Petra carried on. ‘Proper, meaningful connections.’ She sighed. ‘When people talk you really listen and you engage… you know, sensibly, with words… not your tongue… with the promise of other body parts later if people give you a little attention.’
‘Oh, Petra.’
‘I’m too scared to stay in one place and get to know people, because I lost all the people I knew the best and… I can’t go through that again. So, I do lots of different places and lots of different people and lots of everything, so I don’t have time to think about it or know anyone well enough to talk about it.’ She nodded firmly, as if that plan was still somehow working for her. ‘Except with you. I told you.’
‘You did,’ Becky said softly. ‘And that’s a huge step.’ She took a breath. ‘I understand how you feel, Petra, I really do. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned from losing my dad, it’s that you can do all the remarkable things there are to do – the Great Wall of China, the Great Barrier Reef—’
‘A Roger I had in Switzerland was pretty great.’
‘Petra!’
‘Sorry.’
‘Remarkable things like those wonders of the world are only remarkable because someone else has said they are. What’s really remarkable about life is the little things.’ Becky put an arm around Petra and drew her closer, moving them both so they were facing the lush vegetation that surrounded the villa, the ocean lying out in front of them, the bright pebbles of the beach accepting the constantly moving carpet of waves. ‘It’s about moments, sometimes quiet and insignificant moments. Like listening to the sound of the sea or… listening to people make animals noises in a ridiculous dating game in a Greek village or…’
‘Sitting on cushions drinking beer in the Plaka District of Athens… with… friends.’
‘Yes!’ Becky exclaimed. ‘It’s exactly that. It’s laughter and sunshine and…’
‘Getting pissed at the TV that keeps popping out of the breakfast bar.’
‘And being scared of bear-things.’
‘And finding a flamingo in the bath.’
‘Or drooling over Greyston Holt… He’s my favourite Hallmark actor by the way.’
Petra was looking much brighter now and Becky was warmed by her enthusiasm. Telling Petra her mantra about simplicity was helping her to realise exactly what she had been hoping to find in Greece. Initially she had thought it would be adventure and sightseeing, just like Petra, but really the most fun, the times that had touched her soul were all the details. It was eating the most succulent meats, learning a few words of Greek, nearly dying trying to sail a tiny dinghy, kissing Elias inside an ancient castle… especially kissing Elias.