The Santorini Summer Read Online Free PDF Page A

apparent that there was now an expectation that the British contingent should make a contribution. I lowered my gaze to avoid making eye contact with anyone but, to my amazement, Maureen stood up and sang two folk songs from her native Northumbria, in a pure clear voice which raised the hairs on my neck.
    When the professors collectively stood and thanked the waiters it was clear that the evening was over. The American boys said they would escort the American girls back to their rooms, leaving the Greeks to make the same offer to us. Somehow Christos contrived to walk along beside me.
    There was no moon, and the sky was a dense black sprinkled with stars whose position in the sky seemed unfamiliar. I remarked upon this, and the density of the darkness, because it seemed a safe topic of conversation.
    ‘Perhaps you have street lights in Basingstoke? We have in Athens. It makes the sky look lighter, and it is harder to see the stars. But you are also seeing them from a different place on the globe.’
    We craned our necks backwards until we felt dizzy, and Christos had to catch hold of my arm to steady me. That made me catch my breath, and our eyes met for a moment before he released me.
    We walked on in silence for a while. The night air was scented with wild herbs and warm in a way it never is in an English summer. Crickets were chirruping, and the beauty of the night, the romance of being abroad, and the nearness of this handsome young Greek was intoxicating. The gauche young men who’d partnered me at tennis or waltzed me round the Golf Club floor at the request of their parents now seemed like children compared to Christos.
    To cover my shyness I talked about the Minotaur legend. ‘Do you think there really was a monstrous bull in the labyrinth?’
    ‘It must have suited the king to have people believe it. And we know there was bull worship. But bulls have never been carnivores, I think.’
    ‘But it had the head of a man. Most legends have some basis in facts, don’t they? Which get exaggerated and mutated over time?’
    ‘I don’t know this word exag …’
    As I tried to explain, I realised how few were the words he had not understood, and marvelled at his grasp of English. It would have been impossible for me to conduct such a conversation in Greek. I felt in awe of him, as well as physically attracted. Why on earth was he interested in me? That he was, seemed clear when he said, ‘At the site I am kept busy supervising some of the digging, but in the evenings we eat at the local tavernas. There are not many, so I think it will be easy to find each other.’
    And that was all that was said, but it was a declaration and we both knew it. There was never any doubt in my mind. I, who had never had a real boyfriend, never been properly kissed, put my trust in Christos then, and he put his in me. I still find it astounding to this day.
    Outside our lodging he thanked me politely for my company, hoped I’d had a pleasant evening and wished me a good night. The other girls were having similar exchanges with their escorts, who all had very respectful manners.
    Like me, Maureen was both relieved and disappointed. ‘That’s just the sort of boyfriend my mother would like me to bring home,’ she said glumly. ‘Pity he’s Greek.’
    The next morning at the site we were assigned simple tasks. Greek labourers did the heavy digging, supervised by Christos and some of the other Greek boys. They watched carefully as the ground was broken and called a sharp halt if they saw something that looked significant. We were asked to write labels for the shards of pottery which were brought over to our bench. It was usually Christos who brought them over and dictated what should be written on the labels. Professor Margerison spent most of her time talking to the other supervisors. It seemed to me that we were quite unnecessary and that we were merely being given something to do to make us feel included.
    It was not hard work, and we