‘No way, you go first.’
‘OK, but what if you need help?’
‘I’ll scream.’
‘Umm OK.’
Like the penultimate gym junkie, he takes off without a hitch and flies high into the sky. From this angle it looks so far away. I hope I can hover just above the water, an inch maybe two. The instructions are a muddle as I try to remember the process and send myself catapulting into the sky. This is not the inch or two I’d been aiming for. I let out the mother of all bloodcurdling screams, simultaneously exhilarated and terrified. The swell of the sea looks like a rippled blanket beneath me. Eventually my scream fades as I pull in a breath of pure sweet, sweet oxygen before I start my descent.
When I hit the water, Georgios is there grinning. ‘What do you think?’
‘Let’s do it again!’ I’ve never felt a rush like it before, a weightlessness, a freedom. It might be obvious to some that I’m not one of those adrenaline junkies, so this is a bit of a surprise. Together we shoot upwards and somehow manage to synchronise our timing to be side by side. He reaches out a hand and I brush my fingers against his, feeling a zap that could be love, lust, or quite possibly an electric shock from all the currents flowing through my body at such a great height. There’s no time to overthink it, as we lock eyes and share a laugh at our bravery, flying high like some kind of human jets.
When we hit the water again, I manage to land almost on top of him. ‘Sorry,’ I say. ‘Have to practise my dismount. Is it a dismount? Or just a free fall?’ I’m not quite sure which leg belongs to who, but it seems like mine might be the ones around his waist. There’s all that water in the way, so I pretend not to notice and enjoy the sensation. Who knew Evie Davenport could be this brave soul? Not only have I flung myself into almost another galaxy, I’ve landed on his erogenous zone and I’m not even freaking out. OK, I’m freaking out a little bit but I’m playing it cool. Only because my heart literally cannot beat any faster without some kind of internal explosion, so I’m really just trying to keep my body from malfunctioning.
‘Whatever it’s called you did it perfectly.’ He pulls me close, our faces an inch apart as droplets of water catch the light and run in rivulets down the smooth surface of his skin. It’s mesmerising. I resist the urge to trace the pattern with a fingertip. When I gaze back at him, he’s staring so intently with a look I can only describe as longing, a sweet sexy smile on his lips. Yikes. It’s enough to make the hammering of my heart go into overdrive. The only solution I have to stop the intensity of such a moment is to bridge the small distance between us and kiss him. His lips are wet and soft and I melt into the moment. All rational thought … evaporates. Just when I think I might die, I hear a smattering of Greek words volleyed in our direction. He pulls away, apology written on his features. ‘They’re yelling at us to bring the gear back.’
Oh my God. There’s a crowd of people waiting to use the equipment and here we are making out in the water like it’s a private hotel room or something. It’s not like me to forget my surroundings. It’s especially not like me to smooch in public with an audience. My cheeks colour as Georgios motions to them that we’re heading back to shore. He takes my hand as we drift back and I don’t feel so seen, I don’t feel foolish, I just feel alive with all the possibilities before me. What a day!
After our time flyboarding is up, Georgios says, ‘One more adventure to be had.’ We get back into the car and drive back towards Gran’s side of the island. When we arrive, he points to a dock and we find a boat calledLady Kriller. ‘Keep hold of my hand and I’ll lead you across the gangway.’
‘We’re going sailing?’ That seems so sedate compared to flyboarding, but I check just in case because if he suggests scuba diving with gigantic octopuses or a creature equally as terrifying then I’m going to fake my own death to avoid it.
‘Yes, around the Santorini caldera and I’ve organised canapés and champagne. If you’re up for it we can finish with a swim in the sea.’
A swim? Will an octopus wrap itself around me, or worse a shark? There’s a lot of water, a lot ofdeepwater. Who knows what lurks beneath? At least with the jetpacks I had half a chance to zoom away. ‘What’s the shark kill count around these parts?’
‘No shark attacks that I’m aware of. I can always swim further from the boat so in the unlikely event of a shark swimming casually by, it’ll go for me first.’ That same grin is back, like he’s enjoying humouring me. Do regular people not ask these kinds of questions, and just throw themselves into these activities with no care for life and limb? He’s even suggesting himself as shark bait. It’s sweet and all but has he never watchedJaws?
‘You’d do that for me?’
‘Sure, why not? You said you’re not a strong swimmer, so we can stay close to the boat.’
I don’t know why I’m so touched by the idea. Maybe it’s because I really am scared of sharks and every organism that hides in the deep blue waiting to pounce on unsuspecting frolickers. ‘Come on, Evie.’ He helps me on to the boat while I’m still smiling like a loon.
We’re met onboard by a crew of three. They welcome us with a glass of champagne and motion for us to relax on the deck outside. We take a seat under the canopy that provides some delicious shade from the glare of the Aegean Sea.
‘This is gorgeous,’ I say taking a sip of chilled champagne that goes down well after the earlier shenanigans. All that adrenaline being pumped around sure does leave a person parched.
The crew pull in the ropes and we set off. ‘I’ve always wanted to sail around the caldera, but I never had the time. When I’ve visited it’s always been a week at most, and I used that time visiting extended family. It’s fun to explore Santorini like a tourist.’
‘What is the caldera?’
‘It’s the view you see from Floretta’s villa.’ He sips his champagne and lies sprawled on the daybed beside me. ‘It’s a volcanic crater, now a giant lagoon surrounded by cliffs. Calderas are formed after volcanic eruptions. It’s amazing to me that something so spectacular can come from a natural disaster.’
I try not to panic. ‘There’s the possibility that a volcano might erupt?’ They don’t mention that in the guidebooks, do they!
He shades his face with a hand. ‘It’s dormant.’
‘Uh-huh.’ For how long?
‘It’s got a fascinating history actually. During the second millennium BC it erupted and sunk the western part of the island. Some people believe the tidal waves it created caused the destruction of the Minoan civilisation; other theories say that Thira had been the capital of Atlantis, the lost civilisation, but that’s up for debate.’
‘Wow. I need to brush up on my Greek history. Itisfascinating.’ Miraculously Georgios has distracted me from worrying about volcanic eruptions and replaced that with imagining the lost civilisation of Atlantis. ‘I bet Gran’s got plenty of books on the subject.’ I plan to hunt out a couple of Greek history books when I get back to Bibliotherapy.
A staff member wearing aviator sunglasses approaches with a tray of food in hand and describes the feast that awaits us. ‘We havekolokithokeftedes:fried zucchini balls,tiropitakia:mini feta filo triangles andmarides tiganites:crispy whitebait with a drizzle of lemon juice.’ He also places down a bowl of fresh Greek salad with plump kalamata olives that look different to ones from home. Fuller and fatter as if they’ve soaked up all the juices of their garlicky, oily marinade.
‘Thank you,’ I say, as another crew member brings napkins and cutlery. My mouth waters in anticipation. ‘What to try first?’ I say, placing a napkin over my lap.
