‘Happy with what?’ Evie looks confused.
‘The villa, of course.’ Now it’s the estate agent’s turn to look puzzled as he glances from me to my friend.
‘It’s a surprise,’ I explain and he nods a little uncertainly, probably as he takes in Evie’s mouth that is gaping open.
Outside in the blazing sunshine once more, Evie appears to have been rendered speechless.
‘You’ve bought a villa here in Greece?’ she says eventually, an excitement in her voice almost reaching fever pitch. ‘Is this the surprise?’
‘No, I’m marrying a Greek bloke tomorrow who I’ve been messaging, I wondered if you could be my bridesmaid… Of course the villa is the surprise!’
‘Oh my goodness! Wow, well this really is a surprise. Have you used your inheritance money?’ She looks a little doubtful.
‘I have. I just thought, when would I get an opportunity like this ever again?’ I tell her brightly.
‘That’s true. Oh, I can’t wait to see it. But why are we staying in an apartment if you have a home here?’ she asks, looking bemused.
‘Well, it isn’t exactly finished yet. In fact.’ I pause for a minute, anticipating the shock. ‘It isn’t what you might call exactly habitable right now.’
‘Oh, please don’t tell me you have bought an old ruin,’ says Evie, her cautious enthusiasm having completely evaporated.
‘Not an old ruin, no, but it does need some work. I bought it from an online auction, it was an absolute bargain, so I couldn’t resist,’ I say, full of positivity.
‘There’s usually a reason for that,’ she says, unconvinced.
‘Oh, where is your sense of adventure.’ I laugh, trying to convince myself as well as her, I realise. Not for the first time I wonder whether I might have made a huge mistake. ‘Anyway, come on, it’s literally a five-minute walk from here. The sea is almost within touching distance. There is no way I could afford a fully restored house in such a location without having to renovate it.’
‘I guess not. Lead the way,’ says Evie, painting a smile on her face that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
TWELVE
We walk in the bright sun, the sound of the sea in the background, passing people enjoying their day. A couple on a quad bike zip past and crowds of what appear to be locals at this time of year make their way across zebra crossings to the beach opposite. The sight of the spring sunshine glistening on the water immediately lifts my spirits.
A few minutes later, we take a turn across a small patch of wasteland opposite a church, where the road curves upwards. I feel inexplicably nervous as I pass the neat houses, almost holding my breath, wondering what I will find inside as I clutch the front door key tightly in my hand.
‘Ta dah,’ I say, when I stop outside the house, its front garden sprouting some sort of green weed with white flowers and, despite the sunshine, the walls look decidedly dull. There’s a crack snaking down from the bedroom window to the floor. Was it there the last time?
‘Is this it then?’ Evie looks decidedly underwhelmed.
‘It is,’ I say proudly. ‘I can hardly wait to get inside.’
I open the creaky gate and she follows me into the garden, along the neat path. I could have sworn the path to the front door was overgrown with weeds last time. I imagine the localsclapping their hands with joy knowing the dilapidated old villa has been bought; I’m sure they are fed up with looking at such an eyesore. An old lady across the road appears with a broom in her hand, sweeping the non-existent debris in the road and watching us. I lift my hand and wave and she waves back, smiling, before continuing her sweeping.
‘I like that,’ says Evie, eyeing the stone staircase to the balcony off the bedroom. ‘It’s quite romantic. Remember Richard Gere inPretty Womanscaling steps to his love?’
‘That was a fire escape in Downtown LA. I’m not expecting someone to come along on a white charger and do the same thing here.’ I laugh. ‘I think my new neighbour across the road would have her binoculars out if that happened.’
I tentatively push the key into the door and find myself in a front room with a stone floor. There’s an old blue-and-white larder style cupboard that looks quite retro, which I am surprised isn’t in the kitchen. I open it, and the drawer is jammed with something that, at first glance, I think is some paper, but when I look closer I see that it is an old recipe book, its pages yellowed with age. Maybe I can ask Phoebe to translate some recipes.
‘Hey, look at this.’ I show Evie the book, and she wrinkles her nose at the dusty paper. ‘Maybe I could make us something out of this book, when the kitchen is up and running.’
The walls are in dire need of painting, but first impressions aren’t as bad as I expected, apart from a few broken floor tiles that can be replaced. I push the window open and the wooden window frame crumbles like dust in my fingers, and a feeling of concern creeps over me. Will I uncover more problems as I explore further? Maybe I have behaved impulsively and Josh was right to exercise caution after all.
If first impressions in the lounge were okay, the kitchen is a different story. At least I think it’s a kitchen, as it’s a tiny spaceand there isn’t a single cupboard in sight. It’s now clear why the blue larder cupboard was standing at the end of the lounge, beyond the kitchen door. A sorry sink stands in a corner of the room, overlooking the wild rear garden.
Up the creaking stairs, we discover a bathroom suite in an interesting shade of blue with some contrasting brown wall tiles. The pine beamed ceilings feel oppressive, but once painted white they should be just fine. But it’s the damp spot on a bedroom floor that has me worried. I glance up at the ceiling where there is also a damp pattern spreading outwards. That needs sorting before the autumn sets in for sure.
‘So, what do you think then?’ We’re standing outside, just as Phoebe appears from next door.
