An unplanned break
Part 1
The thought of going away on my own never have arisen before as my wife and I had not long returned from four weeks holidaying on a small Greek island in the Dodecanese. However, I found myself at a loose end after we had been back for a few weeks and was getting restless having finished a major project for my work and was just looking to wind down for a couple of days or so. It was my wife who suggested that why didn't I take a short notice break on another Greek island but this time leaving from the airport less than one hour travelling time from our home? On that basis I had a quick look and found a flight departing from a regional airport in south-west England to the island of Zante where I could get a room in a small hotel for a very modest cost. With such a rapid set of short notice circumstances I found myself boarding an easyJet flight along with a few other holidaymakers the following Tuesday.
After we taken off, I settled back with a book to while away the three hours the flight would take. The book didn't hold my attention for long and I found myself making small talk with a woman sitting on my left with her husband sitting on her left. The ice had been broken when she'd asked me to move so she could get into the aisle, I assumed to visit the washroom.
When she returned, I found that she and her husband were staying at the same small hotel as me. It was clear they visited the island before and knew it quite well as the two of them were telling me about the pleasant beaches and the very quiet night life (or lack of it) to be found in mid-September.
After arriving and disembarking at Dionysios Solomos airport, I miraculously found my small luggage among the wonderfully typically Greek chaos and boarded the minibus supplied by the hotel to pick up its guests. When boarding the bus, I distanced myself from the couple as I felt they'd had enough of my company already and I wasn't particularly looking to form any holiday friendships.
On arrival at the hotel I was surprisingly quickly allocated a corner room on the first floor so I grabbed my bag and went to the room, finding it clean, small and compact but which would happily do me for the few nights I was staying. Not wishing to waste any time I dropped my case on the bed and immediately turned and went out to have a look around.
I made my way out of the hotel by a flight of outside steps where it was about a 10-minute walk to the nearest taverna and bar. Grateful for the solitude, I ordered a bottle of wine and a good traditional helping of moussaka and immersed myself in the ebb and flow of the local language in which I have a modest working knowledge.
I walked back to the hotel somewhat satiated and with a relaxed air that only a couple of glasses of retsina can induce. Arriving back the hotel I showered and packed my meagre wardrobe and crashed out. I went downstairs the next morning and immediately recognised the couple from the aeroplane and nodded in their direction; she raised her hand in return. I asked at the hotel where there was a beach nearby and was directed to Argassie probably about 10 minutes away. As I set out, the guy from the couple hailed me and advised that in fact there was a better beach just little further away called Kalamaki which is more secluded and hence quieter and then gave me simple directions to find it.
After I'd been at the beach for a while and enjoyed a swim, I sat under a sunshade and read my book. Later, feeling the need for a beer I got up and walked to a kiosk again passing the couple. In short, the day was no more than that and it was about 5 o'clock when I headed off back to the hotel picking up a couple of bottles of white wine from one of the local bars on the way.
Later that evening, I sat outside on my small balcony, listening to the cicadas and generally revelling in the night-time sounds of Greece. To keep the mosquitoes away I sat outside in complete darkness wearing only swimming trunks. I been sitting there for half an hour or so when I heard the doors onto the balcony of the next apartment being slid open and a figure stepped out; after a few seconds a match was struck and applied to a pair of what turned out to be, from the scent, citronella candles. I then realised that the figure was the man from the couple that I'd first encountered at the airport and again on the beach. He arranged couple of chairs around a central table, one with his back to me through the smoked glass partition; the other facing him on the opposite side of the table. He clearly had no idea I was there; I sat quietly. As he was sitting in a pool of light, he would not have be able to see further than the opposite side of his table. He went back in and then came out with a small bottle of wine and sat down.
A couple of minutes later his wife came to join him and sat down opposite him. She clearly thought they were alone because all she was wearing was a bottom half of her bikini. For the next couple of minutes also I had the pleasure of sipping my glass of wine and admiring her rather full well shaped breasts. After about 10 minutes or so they chatted quietly and then as the feeling of isolation surrounded them, they began to talk little louder and I noticed that she had already finished a second glass of wine and was asking for another which he duly filled. They chatted about inconsequential things as married people do and he poured himself another glass and emptied the remaining wine into hers.
After a while she leaned back in her chair, raised her arms and stretched, turning slightly towards him and smiled.
'I'd like another glass of wine' she said softly.
'Is that a good idea?' He asked. 'You know what you're like when you've had more than a couple of glasses.' He said softly.
'Yes,' she said, 'I know exactly what I'm like when I've had more than a couple of glasses and that's why I'd like another. Anyway, I'm on holiday.' she added easing forwards in her chair slightly and parting her legs and drawing her shoulders back to thrust out her breasts.
By this time, I was fascinated. The husband was clearly interested in that he gave a low chuckle and I thought to myself, 'Your luck could be in this evening'.
He stood up saying that he'd need to go and get a bottle from the shop 10 minutes or so down the road. Strangely, the small restaurant in the hotel didn't sell wine other than to diners.
She indicated that perhaps it didn't matter but I could sense that, to the husband, it did matter and said he'd go anyway. He went back into the room and couple of minutes later I heard him call that he was just leaving, followed a few seconds later by the sound of the door closing. A minute or so later I heard his footsteps on the stairs leading down to the ground floor.
To allow him to clear the hotel, I hesitated for a minute or so, no more, and then stood up from my table, picking up my bottle of wine as I did so. I walked to the dividing glass partition and reached over my balcony with the bottle in my hand so that she could see it from her side.
I called out quietly, 'If you'd like something in the meantime you are more than welcome to glass of this.' And then I added, 'My name's David, we met at the airport.' By way of explanation.
From the light the candle on her balcony I saw her look in my direction, hesitate for a couple of seconds, and then pick up her glass and, covering her breasts with her left arm, she walked towards the glass partition.
'That's very kind,' she said, 'it would keep me going until Steve gets back.' She added, 'My name is Anne, that's Anne with an "e".'