‘I bet he has,’ says Andreas under his breath, his jaw twitching.
Christos, I notice, seems to be hiding a smug grin from his brother.
The blonde behind him shoves him and tuts loudly, and as she steps onto the landing, I recognise her at once as the woman he was chatting to at the club the evening I went there with Lulu.
It feels as if all the air has been sucked out of the room as I take in the scene. I need to get out of here fast.
‘I must be going,’ I say, already heading for the stairs.
Andreas stands still for a moment, before he follows me to the front door.
‘Let me drive you home,’ he says, his voice tight.
‘No, really, Andreas. I spotted a taxi rank in the village on the way in, I will be fine. Thank you for a lovely day,’ I mutter.
I turn on my heels about to set off, when he takes me gently by the wrist.
‘My brother is no good,’ he says. ‘At least around women. He uses them.’
I still can’t take in the fact that they are brothers!
‘Well, he never used me,’ I tell him, thankful that I never slept with him. ‘I am not in the habit of sleeping with the first man who pays me some attention. Especially on holiday.’
‘I wasn’t suggesting that,’ he says more softly.
‘Thank you again for today, Andreas. I truly did have a lovely time but I really think I ought to leave.’
As I head down the path, he makes no further attempt to stop me, so I walk purposefully towards the taxi rank in the village, holding back the tears that are threatening to spill over as I do so.
The image of Christos walking out of the bedroom plays around and around in my head as I walk, not to mention the look on the face of Andreas when he realised I had been out with his brother. I meet two men on an island heaving with people, and I end up going out with both of them, who turn out to be brothers! I tell myself that today was nothing more than an innocent tripto the beach with Andreas, yet deep down I wonder if I wanted more? What an absolute mess.
I find a taxi and back at the apartments, I head to a bar across the road and down a large gin and tonic before I return to my room.
I have two more days here, and I don’t want the recent events to put a dampener on things, so I decide to concentrate on the one thing I am good at.
I grab my phone from my bag and find the recording of Ash playing the guitar, before I unfold the paper with the lyrics. Over the next hour, I fit the lyrics to the song, pausing and correcting it, until it sounds pitch perfect.
I record it all and play it back, thrilled with how it sounds. Without hesitating, I send the recording to Ash to ask him what he thinks of it.
A short while later as I am tidying my apartment, wondering how one person can make such a mess – although the apartment is rather small – my phone rings.
‘Mia, you are bloody brilliant,’ says Ash excitedly. ‘Your voice suits that song perfectly, as I suspected it would. We should upload this to my YouTube account.’
‘Do you really think so?’ I ask, thrilled by his words, yet worried about how it will be received.
‘Absolutely I do. Honestly, Mia, you sound amazing,’ he assures me.
It sounds like such a big deal. The most I have ever done is sing at one of those recording studios with a friend, when I was gifted the experience by Gran. Putting it out there in front of all those people feels terrifying. I’m sure Ash told me that he has almost a million followers on his YouTube channel.
As I recall though, the guy who was mixing the tape at the recording studio did tell me I ought to maybe think about pursuing a singing career. Perhaps it’s time I stopped hidingmy light under a bushel, as Bryn said, and really get myself out there.
‘Sure,’ I tell him. ‘If you think I’m good enough.’
‘Believe me, you are,’ he says excitedly. ‘And what you must remember is that you are singing without any enhancements from studio equipment. People like that live lounge kind of feel,’ he assures me.
‘Then do it,’ I say sounding far more confident than I feel.
The following morning, I take an early morning beach walk, my thoughts still swirling from the events of yesterday.
