‘Are you going a little fast, perhaps?’ Georgios is a New Yorker, so more likely to walk or use public transport rather than drive. Just how much experience does he have with these winding roads that have a great big pool of water on one side?
‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘I’ll slow down. To be honest, I try and get around these bends as fast as possible because the thought of going over the edge freaks me out.’
‘So you gofaster?’
‘Gets it over quicker.’
‘But you might lose control quicker.’
‘You don’t trust me?’
‘I don’t know you, Georgios. Not really. And when it comes to your driving prowess, the jury is still out. I’m not sure your method is sound.’
He laughs. ‘I like your honesty.’
I tend to drop truth bombs when I fear for my life. Not only do I have to contend with the car skidding off into the sea, but also the fact he might be taking me prisoner. There’s a lot to worry about.
We drive on, albeit at a slower pace. ‘Any luck with the job hunt?’ he asks.
‘Not yet. I’ve reached out to my contacts and applied for various roles but it’s a slow process.’ There’s been no word from documentary maker Val, from Olympus Media, which I take as a positive. It’s not a no. In the interim I’ve applied for anything within the field of book scouting, casting that net far and wide.
The roads even out and to my great delight, we veer away from the cliffs and on to flat land.
We pass through populated towns and come to a port.
By my great powers of deduction, I guess we’re doing some kind of water activity. A boat. A jet ski. Snorkelling? If this is a way to make Gran pay up quicker, I will move heaven and earth to get those funds. Sports aren’t my thing; water sports are the work of the devil. All that activity whilst trying not to drown and expected to do so wearing itty-bitty swimwear. Nope.
He parks the car and runs around to open my door. The man clearly does read the occasional romcom because his romance game is strong. ‘Shall we go?’
‘Umm. I’m not really a strong swimmer.’ Probably because I avoided school swimming lessons my entire life, heck you could even say I orchestrated such things, which in retrospect seems quite dangerous when you’re surrounded by water in Santorini. It’severywhere.
‘Don’t worry. I’ll be right beside you. You’ll mostly be above the water, once you get the hang of flyboarding.’
Whatever that is, I don’t like the sound of it. How can we be above the water? As god-like as he is, he’s not Jesus. I trudge glumly behind him, my feet heavy, as if I’m being led to my death, and who knows, I just might be. He points to a group frolicking in the water and all the breath leaves my body in a whoosh.
‘What fresh hell is that?’
These toned, tanned, demigods with athletic physiques, have some kind of jetpacks strapped to their feet that propel them from the water, to around seventy foot into the air. They’re literally flying above the water from great heights.
‘Flyboarding. I’ve always wanted to try it.’
‘It’s up there on the dumb ways to die list, and I should know, since I’ve seen a lot of avoidable death in my short life.’
He holds a hand to his stomach and laughs, as if I’ve said something hilarious when I’m being one hundred per cent serious. Does he not get that? The man seems to think I use sarcasm for humour when I clearly do not. ‘Evie, you kill me.’
‘It could be arranged.’
He throws his head back again, laughter bubbling out of him. My frown deepens. It’s like we’re having two different conversations. Just what am I missing here? What the hell is so funny? When he manages to compose himself, he puts a hand to the small of my back and pushes me towards this terrible idea.
When he gets to the ticket booth I shrink in on myself and go invisible; at least that’s what I hope happens. I hope I turn around and see him frantically searching for me. But no such luck as he speaks to the woman and then turns and locks eyes with me. ‘What size shoe are you?’
Can I play the Cinderella card and say if he doesn’t know then it’s not going to happen? As I stall to answer a queue forms behind us. ‘There’s so many people waiting; perhaps I’ll just watch.’
‘I’d love to do this together.’ His expression is so earnest that I forget for a moment why I’m delaying. I tell him my damn shoe size.
Before I can give my panic time to manifest into a great big ball of terror, we’re being led to a seat and instructed in English how to work the flyboards and what to do in the event of an emergency. Oh God. I’m going to die alone in a body of water and Gran will feel so bad for forcing me to go with Georgios. She’ll probably faint and finally break that hip of hers.
Once we’re suited and booted and strapped with life vests, we’re taken into the water. It’s surprisingly warm. ‘You go first, and I’ll follow you,’ Georgios says.
