Free Game of Scones by Samantha Tonge Page B

nose.
    ‘We’ll be late for your lunchtime meeting, if you keep this up,’ I said.
    ‘Then stop looking so damn gorgeous,’ he said huskily and firmly held my waist.
    I smiled sheepishly until our lips met, and told myself that the irrational, crazy, all-encompassing, exciting sensations I’d felt when just millimetres from Niko’s face, had simply been a blip. My love for Henrik was solid. Still a bit tingly. And I could rely on him not to deceive me. That magnetised feeling with my old Greek friend was clearly driven by nostalgia for our former friendship.
    ‘Sure you won’t get bored shopping, whilst I meet my client?’ he said, after I pulled away to carry on washing up.
    I shook my head and quickly turned back to the sink. Damn Niko for making his Greeklish accusations swirl around my head last night. On the way home from the taverna, I’d subtly questioned Henrik about his appointment, but he still said little and talked of meeting a client and not the mayor. Is it possible, that straight-up Henrik would lie to me? Would decimate a nature reserve, despite having a girlfriend who loved and respected wildlife and had done for years? I emptied the washing-up bowl… No. I couldn’t believe it. He probably just assumed I would get bored by hearing the details of his meeting. We were on holiday, after all.
    Grumbling about having to put on a suit and tie in such hot weather, he left the lounge. I took the kitchen rubbish out to the bin that stood on the front porch. In the fresh air, I squinted for a moment, enjoying the warmth and sounds of a Greek summer morning – the honking of geese from a flock flying above and chug of a diesel-smelling engine as a battered car passed.
    It took a while to spot the figure standing by the terracotta pots full of bubblegum-pink flowers. I sucked in my cheeks and shut the door behind me, forcing myself not to admire the cut of blue jeans and snug fit of the short-sleeved checked shirt – nor the casual, confident manner.
    ‘What are you doing here?’
    Niko removed a long blade of grass from his mouth and held out a plastic bag. ‘Here – borrow Leila’s big floppy red sunhat and matching shawl. Henrik no recognise you then. Stick them in a rucksack until you get to Kos Town.’
    ‘Huh? Look, I told you–’
    ‘Pippa. You think I’ve changed – but inside I’m still your loyal friend. And you may dress fancy, but will always be Tomboy to me – Tomboy who cannot resist a mystery and who fights for the good. I know you’ll accompany Henrik today.’
    ‘Have you gone mad? You and I… we are different people now. Honestly, aren’t
I
the one who suffers from sunstroke? And you think a giant red hat is discreet? Forget “Pippa”, you may as well call me Poppy.’
    He shook the bag at me, but I simply put the rubbish into the bin, replaced the lid and folded my arms.
    ‘Look… Pippa… You’re angry – about Grandma. Plus I can tell you’re sad about crumbling Taxos. And I think you’re horrified about the idea of the Caretta turtles losing their home. Just like years ago when we found tourist boys abusing stray cats. You took photos and insisted we report them to the police. And remember feeding Grandma’s fresh batch of bread to the baby seagulls we thought looked hungry? I know you still care about things like that.’
    ‘Don’t assume anything about me – especially that I believe your suspicions about ThinkBig.’
    ‘I assume you want to know the truth – like me. Most of the times we got into trouble, when younger, was because we curious people, no? Like us staying out past midnight to find out why empty wine bottles kept appearing in Uncle Demetri’s boat.’
    I couldn’t help returning his smile. We’d stumbled across an amorous local couple who couldn’t find privacy anywhere else, at night.
    ‘Not that it’s any of your business, but I
am
going into Kos Town with Henrik – just to shop.’
    Niko stared at me for a moment, then nodded.