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I wondered if mine were doing the same.

      ‘You still have those thick eyelashes,’ I murmured.

      ‘Remember you’d beg me to give you butterfly kisses,’ he said, eyes teasing. ‘You’d say “Niko, lean forward close and bat your eyelashes against mine”. The tickling sensation made your laugh sound like a braying donkey.’

      I chuckled.

      ‘Go on – let’s do it, for… what do you say? For old clock’s sake.’

      ‘Old time’s sake… ‘

      His grin widened. ‘Unless… perhaps Pippa Pattinson is boring in her old age?’

      I snorted. ‘Fine. Go ahead.’ Our faces neared by a centimetre. Then another. Despite the shade, my body felt as if I were lying on volcanic rock. He pressed right up close, his breath blowing against mine. Our eyelashes touched.

      What would happen if my mouth tilted just a few millimetres forwards? It was as if every cell in my body was magnetised to his. Oh God, all I could think of, right at this moment, was him. The memories, history between us, the laughter, silly arguments, the small scar above his lip…

      I shut my eyes, to be met with a kaleidoscope of colours, as if magical fairy dust swirled in my head. Wow. What was that? Unable to stop myself, eyes open now, I leant further forward, calling on all my willpower not to press my lips against his – although if I didn’t soon, my insides would surely explode… By now we held each other’s hands. Gently our noses met. It was as if time had stood still to shout “all those moments from your childhood were leading to this”. Was I still out cold from sunstroke? Was this all a dream?

      ‘Pippa! I thought you were shopping,’ hollered a familiar male voice, from behind. ‘What on earth are you doing?’

      No, I was wide awake and with a jolt pulled away.

      I swung around and got to my feet. Henrik approached, the wind almost blowing off his cap. He removed it himself to reveal Top Gun sunglasses. Behind him smiled a young Greek woman with a purple flower in her hair.

      ‘Sorry, Henrik,’ I stuttered, as he reached the fig tree. I brushed sand off my shorts. ‘Georgios and Sophia looked after me, you see, I fainted, then–’

      ‘I know,’ he said. ‘They assumed you two had gone shopping for the food we need.’ He held out a hand to Niko. ‘Good to see you again, mate. Thanks for looking after Pippa.’

      After a momentary pause, Niko held out his hand. I got the feeling Henrik’s “mate” was the last thing he wanted to be.

      ‘Niko’s granitas are hard to resist,’ said the woman as she eyed the empty cups. ‘Ya sou Pippa. I am Leila, pleasure to meet you – I guessed you two had come here to cool off.’

      Oh the irony – during those butterfly kisses, I’d never felt so hot.

      Deep lines appeared in Henrik’s forehead, as he scanned my face. ‘I should have reminded you to put on sun cream. Why don’t you head back to the villa? I’ll get the groceries in.’

      But I couldn’t stop staring at petite Leila. Not remembering her from my childhood, I studied the gathered skirt and blouse, the shiny raven hair draped down one shoulder and the small gold hoop earrings. She had a flavour of the exotic about her and what friendly eyes… Leila came forwards and with a shy expression hugged me tight.

      ‘Often Georgios, Sophia and Niko have talked about the Pattinson family, since I moved here with my parents six years ago – and Niko’s grandmother, Iris, tells tales of the tasty scones you baked her.’

      ‘How is Grandma?’ My chest glowed at the thought of Georgios’ mum. I couldn’t wait to see her again. Nine years without her fiery words – but caring heart – had been too long.

      By now Niko had sat up, fig juice still at the corner of his mouth, vest top ruffled… His shoulders sagged. ‘Not the best, what with her being ill, the last year.’

      Ill? My mouth went dry.

      ‘Whilst successful…’ his voice wavered, ‘…the treatment has been harsh. We see very small signs of improvement, of her blossoming back into the old Grandma – it is a gradual process, like the growth of oregano, a most slow-developing plant.’ He exchanged a look with Leila. She walked over as he stood up and squeezed his arm.

      ‘But a visit from you would cheer her up, Pippa,’ said Leila.

      I returned her nod, barely able to breathe for a moment. Grandma was strong. It couldn’t be that bad, otherwise the Sotiropoulos family would have surely contacted us back in England.

      ‘She talks of you often,’ said Niko. ‘I remember how you used to tell her everything.’

      ‘Yes. Grandma was a great confidante.’ I gave a small smile. Which was true – Mum did her best but her mind often seemed elsewhere (the office, probably), whereas Grandma, who never stopped cooking or cleaning, still had the knack of knowing when to call me in for a fresh pastry and ask what was wrong. Like the summer after I’d fallen out with my best friend, or the year of my OCD phase. Gently she’d asked why I kept disappearing to the bathroom to wash. No one else had noticed. Grandma worked out I was fretting about the approaching autumn school term. I was due a new form tutor with a fearsome reputation. Grandma gave me her own Greek stress beads – but just talking about my worries had helped. And as usual she’d been right – rumours always tainted the truth and the new teacher turned out to be all right.

      ‘She’ll be okay, I’m sure,’ said Leila, in a voice as gentle as rustling olive tree leaves.

      Yes. She was right. No doubt when I visited, Grandma would still be baking and ordering everyone about – and asking me to sing (or at least whistle) her favourite Greek song about a sleeping cuckoo… I nodded at Leila, now unable to take my eyes off the way she easily held onto Niko.

      Henrik held out his hand. ‘Come on, Pips. Let’s head to the supermarket. I’m sure Niko and his fiancée would like some time alone, before the sponge-diving boats go out.’ He grinned at Niko. ‘Leila filled me in on your daily routine. It’s clearly not for the faint-hearted.’

      My throat constricted and the oddest expression crossed Niko’s face.

      Fiancée? Engaged to be married? For some reason, an unpleasant sensation pierced my chest. Wow, what a flirt he’d become, for someone on the verge of exchanging marital vows. Pursing my lips, I stood transfixed to Leila’s right hand and a diamond, obvious now, twinkling in the sunlight. That explained why Sophia had looked uncomfortable, in the taverna, at my easy closeness with her son. My eyes scanned her face, those elegant arms, the tiny waist… What was not to like? No wonder my childhood friend had fallen for her charms. Plus she was softly spoken and had the prettiest smile… I swallowed hard and for the first time in a while, momentarily wished my frame was more petite.

      Niko spoke rapidly in Greek to this fiancée for a moment and then cleared his throat.

      ‘Look, Henrik, I don’t think Pippa’s up to shopping just yet – Leila will take you to the supermarket, yes? We’ll meet you back at my parents’ taverna.’

      ‘It’s true,’ said Leila, ‘you look a little off-colour, Pippa. It makes me happy to help Henrik. I promised to look after my small cousins today, but not for another hour.’

      ‘I’m absolutely fine,’ I replied in a bright voice. So, she was kind-hearted as well.

      But the happy Greek couple (who me, sarcastic?) were having none of it. Plus Henrik took little persuasion when Leila hinted Georgios might shout him a free beer. Within minutes the two of them were gone. I picked up my hat and sunglasses and turned to go. However, Niko grabbed my hand.

      ‘Pippa. Look, don’t go, I should have…’

      Gently,

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