I make my way to the front, to the sound of my friends’ whoops and cheers, trying to quell the rising nerves. As always though, the second I grab the microphone, my nerves disappear and I feel the rush of adrenaline.
The crowd-pleasing song in the form of a Shania Twain number goes down a storm and has everyone on their feet waving their arms and singing along. By the time the song finishes, I feel exhilarated as I make my way back to my table to the sound of thunderous applause.
‘Wonderful,’ says Irene, clapping her hands together. ‘Just wonderful. Singing is obviously what you were born to do,’ she tells me kindly as I sit down.
We listen to some more singers as the evening wears on, many really good, and Irene’s comment sticks with me. Maybe this is exactly what I was born to do. So why am I so fixated on pursuing something so completely different?
TWENTY-TWO
Strolling along as the evening draws to a close, we bump into Andreas and his friends queueing at a local taxi rank.
‘Mia.’ Andreas waves over. ‘I am glad I have bumped into you. I think I heard you singing, if you sang the song about feeling like a woman?’ He grins. ‘Which is just as well, as you are one,’ he says, and has me laughing. ‘I have to say, you sounded amazing.’
‘You are correct, it was me, and thank you,’ I say, doing a little bow.
‘No, really you were very good.’ He nods slowly, looking ever so slightly the worse for wear.
‘Thanks again,’ I reply.
He stands with his hands in his pockets for a moment as if he is about to say something else. Just then, one his friends calls him over to a waiting taxi.
‘Anyway. See you around,’ he says as he departs. ‘I might see you if you call into the shop again, before you leave.’
‘Maybe I will,’ I tell him, thinking that I might just do that.
As we walk, Irene spots the headlights of a bus approaching, so we quickly make our way to the bus stop just up ahead.
‘That was quite an evening,’ says Irene as we flop down into our seats. ‘I have so many happy memories here to take home with me.’ She sighs contentedly. ‘And I can’t wait to see Tasha and Owen tomorrow when they return to Fira. It was so wonderful watching them get married.’
‘It really was. And I hope you don’t mind me asking, but have you seen anything of Tasha’s dad, other than at the wedding?’
‘Not really.’ She shakes her head. ‘Although he has been staying at the hotel in Fira. We did have a nice catch-up at the wedding though, and I am glad he has met someone else, it’s just…’ She pauses for a moment. ‘Every time I see him, it reminds me of my sister. I miss her terribly and it seems to open up the wounds,’ she tells me honestly. ‘Selfish, I know.’
‘It isn’t selfish,’ I say softly. ‘And to be honest, if he was all alone, then yes, maybe I could understand you feeling that way. But he has met someone else now, and seems happy.’
I recall him laughing with his partner, as they got up and joined in the Greek dancing.
‘I suppose you’re right.’ Irene smiles. ‘He has managed to move on and I am happy for him. And it’s not as if I won’t keep in touch with him. It’s just that it has only been a year, so it’s still a little strange, seeing him with someone else, you know?’
‘I understand. Some men don’t like to be alone. In a way, it’s testament to the happy marriage he must have had with your sister, not wanting to face the prospect of being all alone.’
Irene reaches across and grasps my hand. ‘You always manage to say the right thing.’ She smiles. ‘You really are wise beyond your years.’
‘Just look at the size of that moon,’ says Patsy, gazing out of the bus window at the giant white full moon. ‘And those stars against that clear night sky. I’m dreading going home to the cloudy skies and drizzle,’ she grumbles.
‘Me too,’ agrees Irene. ‘This island is providing so many memories, it will be a wrench to leave.’ She sighs.
‘Then maybe we ought to sell up, pool our resources, and buy a place out here,’ says Patsy dreamily.
‘I’m not sure I could take the long hot summers,’ says Irene. ‘And I would be broke from constantly having to fork out for batteries for my fan.’ She laughs.
‘You’re probably right,’ agrees Patsy. ‘Maybe we will just leave Greece for our holidays.’
As we drive in the darkness along the twisty road back to Perissa, I find myself thinking about Andreas, then give my head a little shake. The prospect of one holiday romance is enough, and even that isn’t really a certainty. But two? That surely is a bit much for anyone. Besides, telling me I have a good voice, and mentioning that I might see him in the shop is hardly flirtatious behaviour. But then, Patsy did say he was staring over at me in the karaoke bar, so who knows?
I retrieve my phone from my bag and stare at the video Lulu has sent over of me performing on the stage of the bar. It’s okay I think, but there is definitely a high note in the middle that is off. I can hear my voice crack a little, although I’m sure no one else noticed. But maybe they will. The song was in a slightly lower register than I am used to at the beginning. For a second I think about posting it to my socials, finger poised over the share button. But something stops me, and I tuck my phone back into my handbag as we continue our journey towards Perissa.
TWENTY-THREE
