Under a Greek Spell Page 5

  Now I’m curious. I can’t help myself. ‘And what other initiatives has James taken?’

  She suddenly looks flustered and realises that she’s dropped herself in it. ‘Oh, oh, I cannot think of an example just like that.’

  I notice she’s twirling a familiar looking necklace nervously round her finger. ‘That’s a pretty necklace.’

  ‘Yes, it was a gift for my birthday from, er…’

  ‘In fact, it looks very similar to this one!’ I yank mine out from under my dress. She looks like she’s been hit with something rather heavy. I continue calmly. ‘I’ll be typing up a report on my morning’s findings later. For now, I’m going to walk round the hotel on my own and speak to some guests.’

  She appears to be quite worried by this parting shot of mine and quickly says Saint James of Manchester has never done any of this, that he gives them a clean sheet regardless and they just have a chat. Well, that explains everything. I suspect it’s more than a chat but I’m not even going there. I ignore what she’s said and extend my hand to her. She reluctantly shakes it and slumps into the nearest chair.

  James has almost definitely been two-timing me with Selena. I’m not going to let her see how upset I am. I turn round and make my way over to the rather pleasant-looking pool area. The guests seem to be relaxed and the atmosphere is calm. I have a chat with a few of the guests. Their feedback is good, apart from the problem of the pool bar being closed at night. I reassure them that this issue is being addressed. They also tell me how good Selena is at her job. I’d dearly love to tell them that she’s good at other things too, but I bite my tongue.

  I find Selena back in her office, looking rather forlorn.

  ‘Right, I’m done. I’ll send an email to Daniel telling him that he authorised the bar closure with James. You might as well put this in the rubbish bin – it seems to have broken.’ Before she can reply, I drop my necklace on to her desk and walk away triumphantly.

  Inwardly, I’m shaking and furious beyond words.

  Chapter 8

  Stephanie

  My goodness, what a wonderful night’s sleep! I must make a note on Helen’s questionnaire that this is the most comfortable bed in the world. I’ve slept like a log apart from a dream during which I nearly gave poor Helen a heart attack. I don’t think she was impressed with my antics. I blame the memory of the plane’s motion for me dreaming that I was on a roller coaster. I was with a gorgeous guy and a pop song was playing. It’s a song that I keep hearing – ‘Black Magic’. We’ve been doing Zumba to it recently and it’s stuck in my head. It was also playing in the restaurant last night, but Helen drowned it out by droning on about that questionnaire.

  The dream was like a James Bond film. After the roller coaster, we were suddenly on a speedboat, with the wind blowing in my hair and the spray from the sea splashing up on to my face. Then we were on a motorbike and driving ridiculously fast through narrow streets. I was very impressed with myself: Stephanie Valentine, the new Bond girl.

  Anyway, I need to open the curtains. I’m desperate to see the sun and the view. I haven’t seen anything yet as it was dark by the time we finally arrived last night. Thank goodness we were still in time for some dinner. I know we’re near the sea because last night at the restaurant we could see it under the spotlights, and we could hear it too.

  I peel the covers off the bed and make my way to the curtains, and… Shit, ouch, ouch, what the hell was that? One of Helen’s bloody stiletto shoes. Why can’t she put things away? I sit back on the bed, holding my poor toe, which throbs with pain. As the pain subsides, I attempt once again to draw the curtains back and look at the view.

  The sun is definitely there, shining brightly and dazzling my eyes. The sky is a cloudless blue, and the sea view… Er, the view, well, it isn’t of the sea.

  Now, if I were paying for this holiday and for a sea view, which of course I’m not, I’d expect to actually be able to see the sea. But there’s a pool and a garden that both look really nice. I can also see one of the restaurants, where they’re serving breakfast. We’ve even got our own little Jacuzzi, and there are sun-loungers on our terrace.

  Maybe it’s just that we’re in a different room to the one Helen expected. She wasn’t exactly doing cartwheels when she clocked the double bed last night, but we needed food and sleep and the staff assured us that the bed problem would be sorted out today. The original booking was for a double room, which was a bit odd. Helen’s boss changed it to a double with twin beds but communication seems to have broken down. We did, however, enjoy the champagne that was in the room. Another mystery – Helen says she didn’t ask for it.

  I’ll finish my tea on the balcony. I slide back the balcony doors and realise it’s already baking. I like to think that I enjoy the sun and heat but the balcony is so hot that I go back in after five minutes to have a nice refreshing shower.

  I’m going to wear my new dress that Helen treated me to yesterday at the airport. Ridiculously expensive, in my book, but I fell in love with it and Helen insisted on buying it for me. It’s an all-over blue design in a bandeau style. The ruched bandeau means there’s no need for a bra so I feel rather liberated.

  I’m also going to attempt wearing some contact lenses. I’ve worn lenses a few times over the years but I hated the daily cleaning regime. I was chatting to a colleague a few weeks ago and she recommended daily disposable lenses. I went along to the local optician, tried out a trial pack and now here I am with a month’s worth. I peer down at the mirror and my hair immediately flops into my eyes. I find a bobble to tie back my hair. The optician offered to mark the boxes with ‘left’ and ‘right’ as my prescription is different for each eye. I insisted there was no need… Now, what was it? I’m sure the left is the weaker one. I carefully peel the backing off the weaker prescription lens first and gently coax it from the compartment. It’s a right faff. I finally manage to get the lens into my eye, which waters profusely for a few seconds. I dab my eye with some tissue and then repeat the same palaver for the second eye. I’m not sure this contact lens malarkey is for me but, at £40 for a month, I’ll have to give them a chance.

  I quickly glance at myself in the mirror before leaving the room to make sure my dress isn’t tucked into my knickers – one of my previous embarrassing moments. I was about to walk out of the toilets at a hotel once when a very kind lady stopped me and pointed out my huge faux pas.

  I make my way down to the buffet restaurant and wait dutifully at the post to be seated. I’ve got my questionnaire from Helen tucked into my magazine so that I can tick off the points as I go along. It’s even worse than the rubbish we have at work but that’s what happens in the service industry – everyone is judged. I blame the Americans with all that ‘Have a nice day’ nonsense.

  A staff member approaches me. She’s smiling, which is a good start, and she has a name badge on. I need to remember her name, which is… Oh my God, I can’t see her name! It’s blurry – I must have mixed up my contact lenses. I have to think quickly; I need her name for my tick sheet.

  ‘Morning, madam. Table for one?’

  ‘Yes, please,’ I nod.

  ‘Inside or outside?’

  ‘Oh, outside, please. I’d like to make the most of this wonderful sunshine.’

  ‘Are you from England? Having no summer again!’ she laughs.

  I feel like pointing out that having no summer isn’t actually that funny, but I refrain. ‘Yes, can you tell?’ I reply instead, holding out my very pale arms.

  ‘Smoking or non-smoking?’

  ‘Non-smoking, thank you.’

  We head outside and the warm air hits us nicely after the air-conditioned indoor restaurant.

  ‘Is this table okay for you?’ She points to a table by the pool.

  ‘Yes, great, thank you.’

  She pulls the chair out ready for me to sit down. ‘Is this your first vis
it to the restaurant?’

  I smile and nod. She explains that most things are on the buffet but if I want anything more specific, like eggs Benedict, I can order it from my waiter, who will also take my drink order. I think her name badge says ‘El’ something.

  ‘Thank you. Er, sorry, how do you pronounce your name?’

  ‘El-ena,’ she replies, smiling and unfazed. She turns away to greet some new guests.

  I sneak the questionnaire out of the magazine and promptly put it back as an absolutely gorgeous waiter approaches.

  ‘Kalimera. Did you have a good night’s sleep?’

  ‘Oh, wonderful, thank you. The best ever until I…’ I stop myself because if I tell him about whacking Helen he’ll think I’m bonkers.

  ‘Until you … woke up?’

  ‘Ha ha,’ I chuckle. ‘Yes, something like that.’

  ‘Is this your first time to the magical island of Mykonos?’

  ‘Yes, it is, and it’s actually the first time I’ve visited anywhere in Greece.’

  ‘Well, I am sure you will like it very much. Be sure to visit our beautiful town and the rest of the island. Many of our guests never leave the hotel grounds, which is a great shame. Now, would you like some tea or coffee?’

  ‘Oh, English breakfast tea, please. I can’t face coffee until at least ten thirty.’

  ‘Would you like milk?’

  I can’t help gazing into his deep brown eyes for a second or two and then I realise that he’s waiting for my answer. ‘Oh, yes, sorry, definitely milk, thank you.’

  I’m so distracted by the gorgeous waiter’s eyes – in fact, everything about him – that I completely forget to look at his name, and now he’s gone. I’ve had enough of this sheet already. I’ll fill it in later.

  He’s back quickly with my pot of tea. ‘One pot of English breakfast tea. Enjoy your breakfast.’

  ‘I will, thank you. Oh, sorry, have you got the milk?’

  ‘I am most sorry. I have forgotten it. I will bring it now.’

  ‘Oh, no worries. The tea needs to brew first anyway.’ I can’t help gazing into his eyes again for a bit longer than I need to. I’m mesmerised by his looks, and his Greek accent makes him sound so sexy. He leaves me simmering. I can see I’m going to be coming down earlier and having a very long breakfast if this guy’s going to be about.

  I’m suddenly aware that there’s an insect flying about. It looks big and menacing. I don’t do insects. I was chased by wasps as a child, and they won, so I panic at the sight of anything that can fly or buzz. I watch it intently as it hovers around some flowers. I arm myself with my magazine, ready to protect myself. Oh no, it’s coming my way. My heart is racing. I instinctively shriek and attempt to waft it away with the magazine. I throw my hand in the air and…

  ‘Aargh! Oh my God! What on earth?’ I’m suddenly wet. I’ve been doused with a jug of cold milk. It’s in my hair and all over the table and my lovely new dress. People at the surrounding tables stop eating and gawp at me to see what I’m making a fuss about. I can hear sniggering.

  The poor waiter was just behind me bringing the milk and now I’ve created a scene. ‘I’m so sorry! A large insect freaked me out.’

  ‘Oh yes it was a carpenter bee. It has gone now. Please, here.’ The waiter hands me a napkin and I laugh. The shock of the cold milk shower has reduced me to laughter.

  ‘When I said I wanted milk, I didn’t mean that I wanted to be wearing the stuff,’ I reply, feeling rather shy. I glance down and notice that the cold milk has caused a reaction in my nipples. They’ve very kindly put in an appearance, enjoying the freedom of having no bra to keep them under control. The waiter notices them as well and politely averts his eyes. ‘Oh dear, I think I’d better get changed and send my dress to the laundry.’

  ‘No problem. I will bring you a fresh pot of tea and some more…’ he pauses, trying very hard not to laugh, ‘… milk? And please tell the laundry that the restaurant will pay for the cleaning.’

  ‘There’s no need. It wasn’t your fault. Maybe next time there’s an insect flying about I’ll think twice before I start wafting magazines in the air.’

  ‘Please, I insist.’

  ‘Okay, very well. I’m starving so I’ll be back in a jiffy.’

  ‘Would you like some toast bringing with your tea? Then it will be here when you come back?’

  ‘Oh, that’ll be great, thanks.’

  I scurry back to our room. I can’t tell Helen about this latest calamity of mine. She’d be rolling her eyes in disbelief. And that waiter – he’s knocked me for six and got me in a right tizzy. My heart is all a flutter and there’s a funny feeling in my stomach … That could be hunger, though.

  I change quickly into a clean dress, with a bikini top underneath as added security. I’m taking no chances. With my luck, lightning might strike twice. I also swap my contact lenses round.

  I get back to my table and there’s a pot of tea, a jug of milk and some toast waiting for me. As I eat, I try to discreetly watch the milk waiter; I’m fascinated by him. He seems really charming, he’s got a lovely manner with the guests and his smile is, well, it’s making my heart flutter again, which it hasn’t done in a very long time.

  It seems to be taking me ages to finish my pot of tea and toast. I don’t feel that hungry any more so I’ll leave the buffet for now and try it tomorrow.

  ‘Would you like some more tea?’ The milk waiter breaks into my thoughts, which were mostly about him.

  ‘No, I’m fine. I’m going to relax and read my magazine.’

  ‘Well, you have a good day. I am hoping no more insects will be bothering you.’

  ‘Yes, thanks, I hope so too!’

  I could quite happily sit there for a while longer and watch the waiter but I’m guessing that at some point the breakfast service will finish and I’ll look a bit strange. I didn’t see a name badge so I’m still none the wiser. Oh well, for now he’s the ‘gorgeous milk waiter’.

  I reluctantly leave and set off to check out the sunbed situation. There’s no sign of a free one in the garden or on the beach so I track down the guy who’s in charge of the sunbeds.

  ‘Oh, hi there, er…’ I peer down at his name badge. Manolis. ‘I can’t find a free sunbed and I thought there was meant to be one for every guest.’ I feel like I have some authority with my questionnaire, and he’s caught slightly off guard by my knowledge of sunbed allocation.

  ‘Yes, there is, but I think guests from the hotel next door have been taking advantage of our more deluxe beds. There are some cabanas available on the beach, if you are interested. They are forty euros a day,’ he says, somehow keeping a straight face.

  ‘Forty euros a day?’ I screech. ‘They should be free when all the beds have gone.’

  I can tell I’ve touched a nerve because he comes up with a suggestion rather than just sending me on my way. ‘I can ask the supervisor’s permission to waive the fee, if you like,’ he offers.

  I now go off the idea of being in a cabana all on my own when I could just lie on the sunbed on my balcony. I make a hasty retreat, muttering that I’ll be back first thing in the morning to claim my sunbed. Helen won’t be impressed with all this.

  I find a table in the lunch and dinner restaurant, the one overlooking the beautiful blue sea that’s sparkling in the sun, and I make a start on this ridiculous questionnaire.

  Breakfast buffet

  Meeter/greeter

  Were you greeted by a member of staff within five minutes?

  Yes/No/Don’t know/Comment

  X

  Was the member of staff wearing a name badge?

  Yes/No/Don’t know/Comment

  X Elena

  Did the member of staff offer a choice between inside and outside dining?

  Yes/No/Don’t know/Comment

  X
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br />   Did the member of staff offer a choice between smoking and non-smoking seating?

  Yes/No/Don’t know/Comment

  X

  Was the member of staff friendly and professional?

  Yes/No/Don’t know/Comment

  X

  Was the buffet system explained?

  Yes/No/Don’t know/Comment

  X

  Waiters and waitresses

  Were you asked in a timely manner for your choice of drink?

  Yes/No/Don’t know/Comment

  X

  Was the member of staff wearing a name badge?

  Yes/No/Don’t know/Comment

  X He was the drop-dead gorgeous one.

  Was your drink served in a timely manner?

  Yes/No/Don’t know/Comment

  X A very timely manner lol.

  Flipping heck, I’ve had enough of this. I want to get on a sunbed and start reading my big pile of books, which have used up a quarter of my suitcase allowance. I carefully return the questionnaire to its wallet and go back to our room, using the stairs for some exercise.

  I take my dress off and throw it on to the bed. I pop the other dress, the wet one, into a laundry bag, tick the same-day option and write ‘Milk spillage, please charge to restaurant’ on the label.

  I disappear into the bathroom to whack on some sun cream. Then I hear some faint knocking and a man shouting ‘Hello!’

  I quickly grab a bathrobe and peer round the door. There are a couple of guys in the corridor. They look quite alarmed, to match me being quite alarmed.

  ‘Sorry. We knock and no one answer. You have “Make My Room Up” sign on your door.’

  ‘Sorry, yes, I forgot to change it back. I was just in the bathroom putting on my sun cream.’

  ‘We have come to sort out the bed. Housekeeping say it should be separate?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right, thank you. I’ll go on the balcony and leave you to it.’