Free The English Lesson (The Greek Village Collection Book 11) by Sara Alexi Page A

at the sight of Toula in the lane, and then Toula climbs into the taxi and slams the door behind her.

Toula
     
    'He says he will catch the later train,' Toula tells Yianni. 'We must go or we will miss the train.' Yianni turns the radio up a fraction, starts the engine, and smoothly drives off towards the station.

T wo weeks later
     
    Toula
     
    It is strange to see Saros again. It looks so small, so provincial. Toula climbs down from the train with only her handbag. She left her suitcases, her clothes in London. She will need them there next time. It will be easier to travel light.
    There are taxis waiting by the open platform, but Toula has her new London shoes on, the sun is shining, as it always does in Greece, and she decides she will walk.
    The sea is sparkling as it always does, but there is now a nip in the air. It is positively warm after two weeks in London.
    She inhales and takes a good long look, as if she is seeing it for the first time.
    It is a pretty town, there is no denying that. The palm trees, equally spaced along the harbour in front of the cafés, add vibrancy to the historic buildings. On the road that cuts between harbour and cafés, walking at a steady pace, there is a horse pulling a carriage. It is for the tourists and it adds charm to the town. It will be lovely to bring Katerina here for holidays when she is a little bigger. She would love to have a carriage ride.
    The horse passes and Toula crosses the road. The cafés are all alive with Athenians down for the weekend, mostly young men with their new girlfriends. She can tell. The men are being attentive, demonstrative. They are playing to the women, who are acting as if they are used to being treated like queens, each enjoying their roles. It will be the man who forgets his part first. The girl’s confidence will suffer and then she will try to gain his attention back. He will make less effort, and the downward spiral has begun.
    As she nears her own building, her head begins to wobble, side to side and up and down. Toula tuts her disdain. Apart from the first day waiting at the airport to see her daughter’s smiling face, her head has not wobbled, not once, nor have her hands shaken. In fact, she has felt years younger in every possible way. She even enjoyed a little flirtation with a lovely man who was apparently her daughter’s boss. He had such a way with words, but then, he was of Cretan descent, and they are all so masculine down there.
    The side balcony with the fig tree is still there. The crack has grown no worse. If there is a frost this winter and water gets in that crack and it freezes, the whole lot will come down. It will split right open.
    Round the corner into the back lane. There is her door. She stands still and blinks. Now she is here, she is not sure she can face her home. Not alone.
    After a frozen minute or two, she moves on slowly, walks straight past her door and continues to the electrician’s office.
    'Ah Kyria Toula, what a nice surprise.' The man behind the desk is insincere. He might well be embarrassed—how long has she been waiting for them to fix the lift?
    'You will come right now,' Toula demands.
    'Well, Kyria.' He shuffles some papers on his desk, procrastinating his reply.
    'Now or never.' Toula feels like one of the London ladies who expect what they ask for. 'I can take the work elsewhere, and if I do, when I rewire the house, it will not be you who gets the job.' There! A bold-faced lie. She has no intention of rewiring the house.
    But her words have the desired effect. The electrician is coming around his big desk, keys in hand, ready to lock up and go with her.
    Even though she has this small piece of success, Toula does not speed her walk back to her house. Instead, she shuffles her feet and stops to pluck a sprig of bougainvillea. The cat is not on the air conditioning unit, or anywhere else that she can see. She hears the electrician clearing his throat impatiently, but she is in no hurry. Quite