Those Summer Nights (Corfu, Greek Island Romance) Read Online Free PDF Page B

flapping a hand in front of his face. ‘Hot, isn’t it?’
    ‘Yes,’ she answered. She would think of something else to say soon. Hopefully in Greek. She had taken the non-worrying time on the plane to look at the phrase book. She could now add ‘good morning’ and ‘unleaded petrol’ to her repertoire. She stepped up onto the bus.
    ‘Hello,’ Harry greeted an elderly woman sat in one of the few seats. He put his rucksack down on the floor and straddled it before choosing a pole to hold on to. He smiled at the woman. ‘Have you been to Corfu before?’
    ‘Oh yes, dear. We’ve been coming here every year since our honeymoon. Haven’t we, Bill?’ The woman nudged the man next to her, leaning on his two sticks.
    ‘1965,’ he stated, nodding.
    ‘Gosh, congratulations.’
    ‘Is this your wife?’ the woman asked, her eyes going to Imogen.
    ‘No,’ Imogen said quickly. ‘I’m his sister.’
    ‘This is Imogen’s first time in Corfu,’ Harry informed them.
    ‘Is it, love? Well, you’re in for a treat.’ The woman adjusted herself in the seat as the bus doors closed and the engine revved up. ‘Where are you staying? North? South? Somewhere in between?’
    Imogen watched Harry’s grin widen, his blond hair flopping over his forehead as the bus moved across the tarmac. ‘The north,’ he said. ‘Acharavi.’ He waited a beat. ‘We’ve bought a restaurant.’
    She swallowed heavily, the taste of the in-flight croque monsieur repeating on her. Harry saying the words out loud to other people made the situation hit home. Here they were, a thousand miles from England, in charge of a rundown restaurant.
    ‘Did you hear that, Bill?’ The woman elbowed her husband a second time. ‘These two have bought a restaurant. Ooo, that’s so lovely. Isn’t it lovely, Bill? We had a pub… Well, it was a few years ago now and it wasn’t anywhere exotic like Corfu, it was in…’
    ‘Bromsgrove, 1980,’ Bill answered.
    ‘I can’t wait,’ Harry stated, another beaming smile stretching his lips. ‘I’m still high on the summer of 2000.’
    The bus came to a halt and Imogen looked out of the window at the small terminal. They had travelled less than a hundred metres. The doors opened at a paved slope leading indoors.
    ‘Always makes me laugh, that bus ride,’ the woman said, getting to her feet. ‘All that palaver for a few feet even I could walk. Still, I suppose it’s something to do with health and safety.’ She shook her head. ‘What did we do before health and safety?’
    Imogen’s eyes shot to Harry. A lack of health and safety had been the cause of the accident that had led to him being unable to carry on with his career. He had fallen from the aeroplane he was working on in the hangar and shattered his hip, an event that ultimately contributed to his depression. The sad times had started with the death of their father and Harry had never seemed to come out of it as well as anyone else. It always seemed to be loitering in the background ready to step in when life proved difficult.
    Harry grinned again. ‘I’m guessing we weren’t healthy or safe.’
    Imogen blew out a breath and followed Harry down the step and out onto the tarmac again.
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    ‘ I tied a woggle round it ,’ Harry announced. They were standing at the carousel in arrivals watching luggage appear in front of them. Buggies, car seats, a leather holdall with the zip undone, all rotated around waiting for their owners to claim them.
    ‘What?’ Imogen asked, her eyes going to her brother.
    ‘Tristan had a spare neckerchief and I tied it onto my case with a woggle so I could find it easier.’ Harry stopped talking and pointed. ‘See! There it is!’
    Imogen looked in the direction Harry was pointing to see his already extremely noticeable bright green case slipping down the rubber-clad incline to join the rotation party, a Scout’s scarf flying from its handle.
    She watched Harry rush over to fetch his luggage, kicking the edge