‘Don’t worry, I know all about that. I will be spending my summer holidays here, and occasional weekends, overseeing the building work. The villa I have bought needs renovating.’
‘I wish you good luck,’ he says cheerfully. ‘Do you have good builder?’ he asks.
‘Yes, a nephew of a friend I have made here. His name is Dimitri.’
‘Ah,nai, nai. Dimitri and Yiannis, they work very hard,’ he tells me, which is reassuring to know. It also makes me realise what a tight community it is as everyone seems to know each other. I can’t wait to get to know everyone a little more too.
Saying goodbye to the taxi driver, I settle in once more to my holiday apartment and have a quick shower and change. I’d received a message from Dimitri yesterday saying the removal of the roof had started, but even so when I arrive at the house I gasp in shock. There is just a stone square and a huge wooden structure above, surrounded by scaffolding. I arrive just as Dimitri is descending a ladder.
‘Kalimera.’
He smiles a dazzling smile and wipes his dusty hands on his black T-shirt before shaking mine.
‘I see you have the roof off. How’s it going then?’ I ask, hoping all is well.
It looks alarming but it’s reassuring to know that the work appears to have started in earnest.
‘Pretty good. Would you like to see?’
I follow him upstairs and as I turn to enter the bedroom, he pulls me gently back by the arm.
‘Please, do not step in there. At least not without a parachute.’ He pulls a face.
‘Wait, what?’ I cross the landing and as I open the door I find myself staring into a gaping hole where the floor once was and gazing down into the kitchen area.
‘The floor. It was no good. Rotten floorboards.’ Yiannis shakes his head.
‘What, every single floorboard?’
‘Almost all of it,’ says Dimitri. ‘The villa had been empty for a long time, there was lots of damp and some woodworm too.’
For a split second, I wonder whether I have employed cowboy builders, finding a problem with everything, ripping up floorboards and telling me there is woodworm, before pulling myself together. Dimitri is Thea’s nephew, for goodness’ sake, and didn’t the taxi driver just give him a glowing endorsement? All the same, he might have mentioned the rotten floor to me before ripping it all up.
‘And do not worry. The floorboards I buy very cheaply from a friend who has a timberyard. Would you prefer if I tell you everything we do when you are not here?’ Dimitri asks reasonably and probably noting my serious expression. ‘Also, I could not have known how bad it was, until we began working on it,’ he adds, which is a fair comment I guess.
‘No, really it’s fine. I understand that. Maybe just tell me how much things will cost as they crop up, so I can keep a running total.’
I don’t want him thinking I have unlimited funds, no matter how healthy my current bank balance is.
‘Of course. I promise you I am not, what do you say, a cowboy,’ he says, tapping into my thoughts. ‘The floorboards are the only extra cost at two hundred euros. Everything else is already included in the total quote I have given you,’ he reassures me.
‘Okay, great.’ I smile my brightest smile, embarrassed by the fact that he might think I find him unscrupulous. ‘I want this to be my dream home after all, so if anything needs doing, just let me know the cost. Anyway, I am here now so I can tell you exactly what I want.’
‘Good. Because I am here to give you exactly what you want,’ he tells me in a non-suggestive way, but even so I feel my stomach do a little flutter as he looks at me with those deep-brown eyes. He looks even more gorgeous than he did last time and those broad shoulders. Has he been working out more since the last time I was here?
Walking around downstairs, I point out things I would like, including a window seat that will look out over the rear garden. I imagine myself sitting reading inside, on the days when the weather is too hot to be outside.
I can hear Yiannis and the two young apprentice builders who have just arrived, whistling along to the sound of Greek music coming from the radio they have brought with them.
I sit with Yiannis and Dimitri, sketching out some ideas, before telling them about the wrought-iron balcony rail leading to the bedroom that I dream of, and they look at each other and smile.
‘What’s so amusing?’ I ask.
‘You know a stone wall may be more practical,’ suggests Dimitri. ‘It can be very rainy in the winter.’
‘And wind,’ adds Yiannis, doing a theatrical whirlwind impression. ‘From beach.’
‘Salty deposits from the sea may ruin your pretty balcony. It could even end up rusty. But, of course, it is your house.’ Dimitri shrugs.
