My Big Fat Christmas Wedding by Samantha Tonge Read Free Book Online

deal. I hadn’t even known he was dating.
    My chest squeezed. Yet my feelings for him couldn’t compare to the sensations Niko inspired. The very look of my fisherman fiancé echoed dimensions from the past. If he was cross it reminded me of the time I accidentally threw away his favourite pebble or ate the last biscuit from a childhood picnic. When he laughed I’d recall us catching crabs and shrieking as they snapped at our toes.
    Yet Henrik represented security, everything that had become familiar – and fun – to me over recent years. He represented the doubt that had recently crept into my mind, about my future in Taxos. Could
you
ditch your life for a new one and have no questions, a few months afterwards?
    Gently Apollo batted my knee several times. He cocked his head as if to say why not go to London? Just for a couple of days?
What exactly are you afraid of
?

Chapter Four
    Spiders? No. Snakes? Never. Clowns? Yes, but only as a child. I wasn’t even afraid of a potential zombie apocalypse, convinced that I could create suitably meaty scones to befriend the walking dead with, filled with oozing intestines and crunchy bones. But the prospect of returning to dynamic London, after four months in idyllic but tranquil Taxos? For some reason a sense of discomfort shifted in my chest.
    I sat in Pippa’s Pantry, with a wholemeal date and walnut scone oozing Greek yogurt and honey. Steam from a cup of rich coffee warmed my nose. Winter sun streamed through the windows and I waved to Cosmo who cycled past, ducking under the branches of an olive tree. He always looked in, with a cheery smile, unafraid of being knocked over. If you took your eye off the road in Taxos, the worst outcome would be skidding in a pile of donkey dung.
    Whereas in London, with its honking cars, whizzing bicycles and veering black taxis… My mouth upturned. Henrik used to get so cross at the thoughtlessness of drivers, until we visited Rome where the roads were far more dangerous. Slowly, I chewed my scone, savouring every mouthful – the soft crumbling dough, crunchy walnuts and satisfying dates, followed by the creamiest yogurt zinging with honey. All these flavours and textures danced together on my tongue, in perfect harmony.
    Yet harmony was the last thing I had felt inside, since seeing Henrik on Saturday night. London. In a few weeks. So what exactly was I scared of?
    I’d mulled it over yesterday as I sat in church, and then spent a quiet Sunday afternoon strolling along the beach. Finally, my heart had thumped out the answer: Henrik. Our old life. The executive hurly-burly…that was my real fear. Would a short visit make me wish I could move back to the lifestyle I’d only recently spurned? Ludicrous wasn’t it? One thing I loved about Taxos – apart from scrumptiousness-on-a-stick Niko – was the tradition, the sense of community, the old-fashioned pace.
    And certainly for the first weeks here, I’d spent most days singing along with Grandma as I baked or gawped at stunning mountains. Yet eventually, when the initial adrenaline rush of setting up a new business dissipated, and I became used to the scenic delights, I felt twitchy – which had no logic, as I was only a few months into running my new business. Yet the teashop rooms had been easy to set up. With a new sign and a few interior design tweaks, as part of the established Taxos Taverna, it was ready to go. I needed a bigger challenge. Or did I? Sigh. Cue me looking like one of those confused smiley emoticons.
    As the oven pinged, I drained my cup and got up. I’d just baked a batch of oregano and feta cheese scones to take to Mrs Manos. She’d looked so disappointed yesterday and weighed down, like ancient Greek Titan, Atlas, carrying a celestial globe.
    Atlas. Titan. Those words brought me back to Henrik. I lifted the scones, all golden thanks to plenty of egg-wash, onto a baking tray and deeply exhaled. It had been good to see him yesterday. Good to talk big-scale