The Bed and Breakfast on the Beach: A gorgeous feel-good read from the bestselling author of One Day in December

‘This is you,’ Jesse said, turning into the car park of a more sizeable Carrefour than Winnie had expected. ‘What?’ He slid his glasses off and turned to look at her when she didn’t move.

‘Nothing,’ Winnie said. ‘It’s just bigger than I thought.’

‘Just because we’re quiet it doesn’t mean we’re uncivilised. You’re perfectly safe,’ he said. ‘We like our exorbitantly priced English teabags and imported bacon just as much as the bigger islands.’

Winnie rolled her eyes. ‘You think we won’t cut it here, don’t you?’

‘It’s not for everyone,’ he said. ‘You might find it too quiet.’

‘Maybe. I don’t think so though, somehow. And anyway, quiet is good right now.’

He tapped his fingers on the wheel. ‘And what about when you’re all done hiding? What will you do then?’

Winnie frowned. ‘We’re not hiding,’ she said. ‘Just because you overheard snapshots of our lives in the bar yesterday, it doesn’t mean you get to make judgments on our staying power.’

He looked unabashed. ‘I’m just sayin’ it the way I see it, Legs.’

‘Legs? Did you just call me Legs?’

‘You’ve got them.’ He nodded down towards her knees.

‘Everyone does.’

‘Yeah, but yours go all the way up to your ass.’

‘Yes, but …’ She trailed off, blushing a litle. There really wasn’t much she could say to that.

‘I’ll be back in half an hour or so. I’ll come and find you.’

Winnie nodded and scarpered out of his car, muttering thanks as she slammed the door, pulling her skirt down her thighs as she went.

Winding his window down, he shot her a grin. ‘I can still see them.’

‘So stop looking then.’

Winnie turned and walked away, turning at the supermarket to find him still blatantly watching her.

‘You’re so predictable, caveman,’ she half shouted, making a woman pushing a trolley past her turn to look at her in alarm.

‘Signomi! Sorry!’ Jesse called, raising his hand in greeting as he used both Greek and English for clarity. ‘She’s new around here.’

It seemed to do the trick, for the woman at least, who shrugged and moved on. It had a far less relaxing effect on Winnie, who felt more like throwing tomatoes from the display outside the store at Jesse’s smug grin as he tapped his watch face and threw his arm across the back of the passenger seat to reverse out of the car park.

‘Legs,’ she muttered, watching him pull away in a cloud of dust before heading inside the thankfully cool supermarket.

‘Get everything you need?’

Winnie turned away from the baffling display of cleaning products at the sound of Jesse’s voice behind her.

‘Has it been that long already?’ She frowned down into her half-filled trolley. Her shopping so far had been hit and miss from the list they’d all cobbled together around the breakfast table that morning. There were ingredients for dishes Frankie wanted to test out, and vague things like ‘buy dinner’ and then a few requests for tastes of home if they were available.

‘I’m looking for bathroom cleaner. For the loos and things.’

He scanned the shelves, plucked a spray bottle down and briefly read the back before handing it to her.

‘This one. It actually specifies that it’s best for delicate-stomached tourists who insist on a full English breakfast washed down with builder’s tea.’

‘Ha ha.’ Winnie grabbed it from him and put it as far away from the bacon and eggs in her trolley as possible.

‘What else do you need?’

Surveying the list, Winnie said, ‘Dinner.’

‘Eat at Panos’s place.’

‘We live here, Jesse. We want to cook for ourselves.’

‘I live here, and Panos cooks my dinner more than I do.’

‘You’re a man.’

‘Now who’s being stereotypical?’

She pulled a face at his back as he wandered away towards the deli counter. Following him, she listened as he chatted easily with the girl behind the display, speaking in fast, fluent Greek that she couldn’t follow. He made the girl laugh though, so evidently he was more charming in his second language than his native tongue.

‘Not vegetarians, no?’

‘Frankie is.’ Winnie didn’t miss the pained look on Jesse’s face as he turned back and ordered more things from the counter.

‘Olives,’ he said when he turned back around with his hands full. ‘And feta.’

Winnie watched him lay the clear containers of gleaming green olives and big creamy chunks of cheese alongside the salad ingredients already in her trolley.

‘Spanakopita. It’s spinach pie.’

Frankie would approve of that.

‘Keftethes. Meatballs. Tell your vegetarian to steer clear.’

‘I think she could work that much out for herself,’ Winnie said. The balls were huge and clearly strictly for carnivores.

Jesse added a tub of tzatziki and slices of locally cured ham, before moving over to the bakery to order a bag of fresh triangles of pita straight from the ovens.

‘Dinner,’ he said, waving his hand grandly over the trolley as if he’d been out and hunted the meat himself.

‘Thank you.’

They wandered back towards the tills, and once there he automatically unloaded and packed her shopping into brown paper carriers without her needing to ask as she carefully counted out the unfamiliar money. It was a moment of simple harmony, and she had the grace to thank him as they left the store and filled the boot of his Golf with her shopping bags.