‘Right, right, I see. You’re taking things slow. I respect that. So I’ve seen the glossies – each month Lucy has a new man on her arm, the lucky thing. Do you think Georgios and Lucy were an item when they worked together or was it purely platonic?’
‘That’s a hell of a segue, Roxy.’
Lucy Strike manages to pop her beautiful head into almost every conversation. Surely Georgios would have mentioned it if they’d had fling? And if they did, does it matter? My head says no but my traitorous heart screams in protest. ‘Oh my God! Do you think he suggested Lucy attend as the guest of honour just to get her on the island? To get close to her again?!’ Is this all some devious con and I’m suddenly cast in role of gooseberry?’ Is he secretly in love with her? Why can’t I be one of those confident types who never worry about worst-case-scenario situations like this?
‘Why are you speaking so fast?’
I pull my hair at the temples. ‘Stress! How will I ever compete with the likes of Lucy Strike?’
Roxy scoffs. ‘What do you mean compete with her? You’re gorgeous, Evie! Yeah sure, Lucy is all saucy siren, purring-voiced, voluptuous, pin-up, bedroom-eyed, sex bomb, but you’re girl-next-door cute! Like, have a look at yourself!’
I take a moment to unpack her protestations and still come up blank. ‘Thanks? But … does girl-next-door cute really cut it if we’re side by side?’ How does one compare themselves to a sex bomb for crying out loud?
There’s no stopping Roxy – she’s off and away glassy-eyed, dreaming about celebrity authors with glamorous lives. ‘Can you imagine the legion of fans she’s got trailing after her? Men with their tongues hanging out, drooling as she sashays past? Who could bebotheredwith all of that? And then there’s you, perched on this cliff, living your best bookworm life. Your days are spent talking books, allowing your pens to be pinched, being bossed around by Donkey Man, assuaging Guitar Guy’s fear for poor old Helena, and biting your tongue when Pig Farmer upsets the colour order of the books. I mean, I know which life appeals more, and it’s not Lucy’s.’
‘True, true. But this life is temporary. Soon enough I’ll go back to my real life, my book scout job.’
‘Have you heard back from anyone?’
‘Not in the affirmative.’ Should I be worried?
‘Well, until then we’ve got you here and I for one am going to make the most of it.’
I give her a warm smile. I haven’t had many close friends in my life and certainly none as real as Roxy. Santorini will hold a special place in my heart when it does come time to leave. ‘Thanks, Roxy.’
‘Welcome. Back to the business at hand.’ She surveys the counter. ‘I’ll need my own desk. And my own pens. Keep the coffee coming while I call my network and tell them we have one of the biggest literary stars coming to our little island.’
I can’t help but laugh. But it’s true, Roxy will need her own space to work and have privacy to make calls. There’s plenty of rooms in Epeolatry – we can rope off one of the rooms for her exclusive use. ‘I’m back to fetching the coffee, am I?’
‘You don’t want to make the phone calls do you?’
‘God no.’
We set Roxy up in her own little hideaway in Epeolatry with pens galore. I dash off to make enough coffee to keep her going, and once again I find Gran on the phone acting squirrely, talking in hushed tones, a frown marring her usually happy face. When she sees me she goes to her room and shuts the door. Curious. Why this sudden need to have private conversations? Gran’s always been loud and proud, not giving a damn who hears what. Is there more going on with Georgios’ family, or is this to do with her husband? I take the coffee back to Roxy and dither with whether to confide in her. Confide what, that’s the question.
‘Do you know Konstantine, Roxy?’
She shuffles her papers. How did she amass so much already? ‘Yes, I used to shop here but the spoils were not plentiful – let’s put it that way. The only romances the guy had were Mills and Boon circa 1970.’
‘Is he a nice guy?’ The note is still bothering me. He’s not to be trusted in what way?
She taps a pen against her chin. ‘I guess. A silver fox sort but there was always this aloofness to him, as if he was only partly here. You know what I mean?’
That’s Gran. Always going for the ones who need fixing. ‘Would you say he was trustworthy?’
Roxy cocks her head. ‘What’s this about then?’
‘Nothing, nothing. Just curious is all. He’s away working and I get to wondering how their new marriage is coping with the separation so early on, is all.’
With narrowed eyes she says, ‘You think he’s left her?’
‘No! Nothing of the sort. Just thinking out loud.’
‘Well, I’m sure he’s dying to come back to his blushing bride. Floretta is a catch, no two ways about it. Whether he’s trustworthy or not, I have no idea. He better be! His mother would kill him if he did the wrong thing and ruined their family name. I’ve said it before, you do not mess around where Greek mothers are concerned.’
I laugh, buoyed by the fact fear of his mother would at least make him stop and think before doing anything he might regret. I shelve the worry for another time. Maybe the note is from a local gossip. I’ve seen this happen time and again when Athena visits and catches us up on all the village drama.
I leave Roxy to it and return to the bookshop. There’s a man standing in the entrance wearing an anxious expression on his face, so I give him a wide smile and say hello. I understand anxiety and want to make sure he knows he’s welcome here.
