My Big Fat Christmas Wedding Read Online Free PDF

carol-singers…’
    ‘Mama, Papa, you could serve hot egg-lemon chicken and rice soup in mugs, with chunks of sourdough bread from the taverna, for local visitors who want their traditional festive food,’ said Niko.
    ‘Pandora, what about selling some of your handkerchiefs?’ I said. She’d built up quite a collection since her husband had died in a local forest fire, when Niko and I were children. Clearly, sewing had filled many an empty evening.
    ‘Me and Niko could plan a Christmas-themed treasure hunt each day for children, with some strategically placed boats on the beach,’ said Niko’s cousin Stefan.
    Vigorously I nodded my head.
    ‘Perhaps your friendly goats could wear cardboard antlers,’ I said to the Dellises.
    Yanis muttered something under his breath, rolled his eyes and left with his mum.
    Ignoring their departure, Mr Dellis bowed. ‘And we could offer donkey rides. Our youngest ass loves children and we’d make sure she got a number of rests during the day.’
    I smiled. Mr Dellis had obviously heard that the English were huge advocates of animal welfare. Every time I visited to buy some of their delicious goat’s cheese, he would describe, in great detail, how he tended to his livestock’s every need.
    A couple of hours later, the villagers had switched from coffee to wine and Sophia had put on one of her compilation Christmas CDs. She was a big fan of Bing Crosby and Michael Bublé. Despite the chilly December breeze, several people spilled onto the back patio where someone accompanied Cosmo’s harmonica with guitar. Fairy lights lit up the outside and inside of the restaurant. Most people seemed to be coming around to the idea of giving my venture a go.
    ‘I have started making scented candles,’ said Postie’s wife, a gifted jewellery maker. ‘Perhaps, Pippa, you can help me think up some Christmas fragrances?’
    ‘Yes!’
    ‘And my legs are used to walking,’ said her husband, a squat man with enormous, postbag-carrying shoulders. ‘Like in the summer, when the village put together that leaflet to advertise our new businesses, I can ask my bosses at the post office if you can borrow our big printer again for the flyers. Then on my day off I will post them around Kos Town.’
    ‘Excellent,’ I said. I took a big glug of one of Taxos Taverna’s famous orange granitas as alcohol wouldn’t refresh the parts of me worn out by the several hours of animated chat. Grandma sat next to me, in a chair, with a half-empty glass of ouzo.
    ‘You a good girl, Pippa. People laugh with sparkly eyes – once again you have fired their ambition.’
    ‘Not the Manoses’,’ I mumbled. ‘Do you think it was a stupid suggestion of mine? Did it…’ My voice wavered. ‘…sound patronising? I’d hate that. I mean, Mrs Manos is right – selling a few festive scones and gifts won’t give people back their decent incomes and dignity overnight.’
    Grandma squeezed my shoulder. ‘It’s a great idea. Like you say – at least better than nothing. And who else is looking out for Taxos? Mrs Manos will come around. It’s not been easy for her, since April when her husband died.’
    Arms slipped around me and I turned to face Niko’s intense gaze.
    ‘The Christmas fair is a great idea, even if it will just fill our wallets in the short term. Papa is going to make bags of Greek yogurt-dipped nuts, raisins and figs – any tourists will love those. And Demetrios will make pottery flamingos, seeing as they inhabit Kos at this time of year.’ He shrugged. ‘It will give everyone something positive to focus on.’
    Grandma sipped her drink. ‘Just like in the summer, lots of small ideas, pooled together, make one big success.’
    ‘I’m determined they will,’ I said and pursed my lips.
    The villagers started to put on their outdoor clothing, to go home and make a late dinner. Someone tugged at my sleeve. Sheepishly Theo grinned up at me. Of course, the chocolate scones! I dashed into the