My Big Fat Christmas Wedding: A Funny And Heartwarming Christmas Romance. Samantha TongeЧитать онлайн книгу.
to scoff a secret midnight feast.
‘Those Christmas cookies were yummy,’ I said, still reminiscing, a few hours later, as villagers arrived.
Niko chuckled. ‘I could hardly see what I was eating as we pulled the tarpaulin over us to keep warm.
‘I pushed it off quick enough when that slimy frog jumped into my lap.’
Harmonica in one hand, Cosmo strode in. He embraced us before sniffing loudly.
‘Ya sou, talented Pippa. What scone recipe do you please us with today?’
‘Guess,’ I said, as potter Demetrios came over, shook Niko’s hand and kissed me on both cheeks. The two men breathed in deeply.
‘Tea?’ said Cosmo, brow furrowed.
I shook my head. ‘Not a bad attempt, though.’ Sage was an ingredient of a favourite hot Greek beverage.
‘Asapargus and walnut?’ said Demetrios, who had taken off his scarf to reveal one of his signature brightly coloured cravats – today’s was lagoon-blue.
‘Close,’ I said and took a plate from passing Sophia. I offered the men the sage and onion scones. ‘They are stuffing flavour,’ I announced.
‘Huh?’ they said, in unison.
‘What this stuffing?’ said Cosmo, tired eyes a-twinkle. ‘Stuffing is a material to fill cushions and soft toys, no? Whereas this has…mmm…real flavour.’
Someone tugged at my elbow and I looked down – it was Theo, the eldest son of the Dellis farmers. In one hand he clutched a Nintendo. Almost out of primary school, he spoke a few words of English.
‘White chocolate good, Pippa,’ he said, flecks of cranberry around his mouth.
I ruffled his wavy locks and bent down to explain, in my best Greek, that I’d put two aside in the kitchen for him and his little brother to take home. Puzzlement crossed his face, so Niko quickly translated. I might have been missing mathematical problems to solve, but linguistically I’d never felt more challenged.
From behind, a small hand fiddled with my hair.
‘Honey dumpling!’ I said (sounding like an old Greek mama for a moment) and spun around. Sure enough it was the toddler girl from a few doors down, in her mum’s arms.
‘Pip…Pip…’ the two-year-old managed and leant out to grab my cheek. I gave a wide grin. Ever since she’d first seen me, this little tot had been obsessed with my red hair and freckles.
Across the room, Niko welcomed villagers. My heart swelled as he shook hands and clapped shoulders. Sophia caught my eye and nodded. It was time to call everyone to attention. However, a grape-like smell distracted me – Grandma’s favourite perfume. She’d appeared at my right side, a floral scarf tying back her wispy grey hair.
‘I just hear the news, Pippa.’ She slipped an arm around my waist. ‘Your Henrik – back in Taxos.’
‘He’s not my Henrik any more.’
Crepey skin around Grandma’s cinnamon eyes crinkled. ‘The ladies of the village will be pleased that their Gigantes has returned.’ She gave one of her gap-toothed smiles.
With his Titan height, half-Dutch Henrik had made quite an impact this year. His easy charm, coupled with the suave clothes and Atlas shoulders, had only fuelled the local girls’ crushes.
Grandma stared at me. ‘Must be strange for you – seeing a friend from home after all this time.’
‘Not really,’ I said, my voice coming out in some sort of squeak. ‘He hasn’t texted to meet up. But then we haven’t spoken at all for the last few months.’
She studied my face. ‘Of course. Henrik is now part of your past.’
Did she really believe that? Over the years Grandma had been my greatest confidante in the summers, listening to my worries about school. She always knew when something was bothering me. Not that anything was today. Any sort of relationship between me and Henrik was well over. She squeezed me before pulling away her arm.
‘Have you been reading coffee sediment again, Grandma?’ I said and grinned. ‘Perhaps Henrik will marry one of his Greek fan-girls?’
‘Never joke about the coffee sediment,’ she said. ‘Didn’t it tell you last week that a new pair of shoes will bring you good luck?’ Grandma gazed down at my shiny ankle boots, picked up last weekend in Kos Town. ‘Today is the first time you wear them and I think your Christmas idea – it’s going to go down well.’
I kissed her forehead and glanced across the room at Sophia who nodded again. Loudly, I cleared my throat.
‘Thanks for coming, everyone, it’s appreciated.’
A few people still chatted. Grandma tutted and clapped her hands. Georgios stood ready at the back to translate for the villagers who couldn’t speak much English.
‘Right…so…I have a suggestion on how we can boost our income over the Christmas period.’
‘Go, Pippa!’ called Pandora and unbuttoned her stylish, red winter coat. ‘Your ideas are always the best.’
Murmurs of agreement echoed around the room and my ears burned.
‘Any plan would be most welcome,’ murmured Mrs Dellis. ‘Our pickle and cheese sales are down. Praise God that this time next year, visitors to the Maritime Museum will have big appetites for local wares.’
I smoothed down my apron, as Apollo the cat promptly sank onto one of my feet. ‘Okay…here goes – how about we hold a Christmas market with a difference? From the twenty-sixth of December to the lunchtime of the twenty-ninth – my and Niko’s wedding day. A market to offer tourists and islanders a different shopping experience to the annual one in Kos Town.’
Shoulders slumped and several heads lowered.
‘A market?’ said Cosmo, eventually, and ran his harmonica across his lips, without blowing. ‘How exactly would it stand out?’
‘For a start, in England we have something called Santa’s Grotto – we could set this up in Pippa’s Pantry. St Nicholas sits in there with a bag of presents and parents pay for their children to go in. I reckon you’d look really good in a white beard, Cosmo,’ I said.
‘Efharisto for thinking of me.’ He bowed his head and smiled. ‘To represent our patron saint of sailors would give me great honour.’
‘Demetrios, perhaps, could make small pottery ornaments, such as ceramic angels and reindeer for the gift bags,’ I continued. ‘Pandora’s sweet treats could go in. I would set out my festive scones inside the teashop, alongside hot drinks.’
‘And children would play a big part in this market, wouldn’t they, Pippa?’ said Niko, encouragingly.
‘Yes, you see—’
The door flung open. Local hotel owner Mrs Vesteros stood there, hair ruffled, chest heaving.
‘Otis is missing!’ she wailed. ‘He saw a cat and pulled away whilst I tied my shoelace. He headed towards the beach. I no understand why he not come back.’ A sob escaped her lips.
Without waiting one second, Yanis, the son of local butcher Mrs Manos, sprinted out of the taverna. After giving Mrs Vesteros a quick hug, I followed with Niko and many of the villagers. Otis had become well known in Taxos over the last couple of months, since Mrs Vesteros had found him abandoned in Kos Town.
‘Yanis can run fast,’ I puffed to Niko. ‘He’s obviously still quite the hero. Isn’t he always helping elderly villagers with their DIY?’
‘He used to,’ said Niko, in between gulps of air. ‘Although these days Yanis keeps himself to himself, working at the butcher’s or picking up brickie or plastering work. He and his family live in