What trouble…

… women get you into. Suldrun sauntered into Nikos’ again last night, and sat at my table, which seemed quite pleasant, except that:

  • * an audible rumour made its way out of the door en route to every corner of town, and
  • * Dave appeared fifteen minutes later, complete with very unsightly nose splint.

Dave had worked out that it was me who’d hit him with a lager bottle and that Suldrun was trying to protect me. The opposite would have been closer to the truth, as you know, but I simply pointed out that it hadn’t been me because, if he remembered, I was hanging onto his left arm at the time with both hands, and I had no idea who hit him. I was frankly terrified, and resolved to poke him on the nose if he started to get physical, though he seemed content to be vocal, albeit in a somewhat nasal fashion. It could have been left at that, except that Suldrun chose that very moment to confess, emphasising that he’d been asking for it. It got very noisy then and was in danger of becoming ugly, but Nikos, standing at a safe distance, called across to Dave that he was calling the police now. Dave left.

Now, I know it was a mistake and has ruined my reputation. Because, the next thing, Suldrun tells me she’s scared to go back to the hotel now. I say (I can’t believe I’m saying this) “Come back to my place, then.”

“Righto”, says she. We eat, we leave. She sleeps in my bed. I sleep on the floor in the sleeping bag I used before the bed arrived. That is IT! Nothing happened! Good God, the girl is about half my age. What am I? Some kind of pervert?

And I worked with Alexis, and Suldrun did her archaeology stuff today. We are NOT an item.

In fact, the whole arrangement was so uncomplicated that I invited her here again tonight. She leaves the island tomorrow, so that’ll be that. And, in order not to make matters worse by appearing in public together again, I am making a light supper for us here.

Oh dear, that “light supper” sprang off the keyboard in a very slick manner. I hope I’m not catching clichéitis. What I should have said was that we’re having houmous with Kalamata olives, followed by grilled lamb chops and rice, as long as I don’t burn the rice like last time; then yoghurt and honey and coffee.

I should do this more often. It seems I’d rather ride down to Nikos’ and come back freezing to death on the bike than self-cater. When it gets dark, it can be very cold on the bike, even when it’s been hot all day. Cooking would make sense even if Suldrun weren’t coming.

What am I doing sitting here blogging? I have to go fetch her from town now. Goodbye.

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