With Love, Greece.

Chapter 1

"16B ma'am, on your right" the flight attendant nods as she glances down at my ticket. I step forward, walking down the isle of the lowest cost airline I could find. I find my row, place my luggage in the overhead locker and take my seat. I pull out my phone, preparing to turn it onto airplane mode when it pings in my hand. Great, a message request. I click it open and see a new message sitting under a string of unanswered texts.

Blocked Number: Alana I was hoping we could talk, I came to see you, but Jeffrey told me you'd already left. Please give me a call.

My heart sinks slightly, not at the thought of missing him, no. But Jeff, my good old neighbour. Literally, good-as-gold and 90-years-old. I miss him already. I ignore the message, clicking the tiny plane button, I open my music app and plug my headphones in. I look out the window as we taxi, breathing in a deep breath. I am in control. I don't stop the smile that forms over my face.

The journey was as expected, long, hot, cramped, screaming baby, and shitty food. I watch as we taxi towards the terminal. If that's what it could be called, maybe just a building? The sign reads big, nearly as big as the building itself. Skiathos Alexandros Papadiamantis Airport. I grab my hand luggage, following the array of early holiday makers and leave the aircraft.

I step onto the metal stairs, a gust of wind hitting me from the open area. "Shit," I mutter, pulling my cardigan around me and ignoring the disappointed glance from the family walking in front of me. Right, watch your language, Lana. I think it was warmer in England. I step down, making my way towards the terminal with the other passengers. I grab my two suitcases from baggage claim before heading towards the exit.

When I make it landside, I smile again, I could get use to this. A man to my left starts speaking gibberish, and when I glance over, he's staring at me, flapping his hand between me and his car. I glance down the side, lines of cars lined up. I have no clue what he's saying, then I hear a familiar word "taxi." Ah perfect, a taxi. I nod to the rambling man, pointing to my luggage.

"Careful they're..." the man graciously collects both suitcases in each arm, walking towards his car "...heavy." I shuffle my handbag back onto my shoulder and grab my cabin bag. I climb in the back, trying to pull up the address of the villa on my phone before he gets back into the car.

When he sits in the driver's seat, he looks at me through the rear-view mirror, "where staying?" I push my phone through the two seats pointing to the address on the screen. He nods before pulling swiftly out of the parking bay, swerving through lose tourists and coaches. I grab hold of the door, preventing myself from flying side to side, thank God it has a seat belt at least.

After a short journey, the car pulls to a stop outside a large array of stone steps, leading up to a villa set on a hill edge. I pay the driver, thanking him before hiking my bags out of the boot and onto the side of the road.

I pull them both back as much as possible, off the road and against the first stone step and I glance up, there must be a good 20 steps. I grab the two larger suitcases, one in each hand, grasp the smaller cabin bag with two fingers and start the ascend.

I could really use that cool breeze right now.

When I reach the top, I stand still for a moment, catching my breath. I run, a lot, I love it, but climbing steps, that's a whole workout in itself.

I pull my bags forward towards the small villa, I pull the plant pot out and eye the envelope underneath. I rented this villa for the whole of my stay, I didn't want to deal with holidaymakers while I was here to work, so having a quiet place away from tourists was important for me. I say villa, it's really just a small studio with a bed, bathroom and small kitchenette. Perfect.

After jiggling the key into the rusty lock, I push my way into the small home and glance around. Dark, dusty, highly unsafe structure, questionable electrical hook up, questionable water and plumbing systems. "Eh!" I shrug to no one. With how busy I'm going to be while I'm here, I doubt I'll hardly be spending any time in this place apart but to sleep anyway.

Lugging my bags into the studio, I make quick work of organising myself and settling in. I'll need to find somewhere I can get my clothes dry cleaned, is that even a thing on a small Greek island? Whatever they have, I'll need something. When I'm meeting clients and on the big day, I'll need to look prim and proper if I really want this to work. And it must, MUST. "It will," I whisper. "Everything is going to be...AHH!" Freezing, I wait for the toiletry bag to settle on the floor where it slipped from my fingers before I move. "Hell no," I whisper, watching the green lizard closely.

"You're alright aren't you, not harmful. No. You're a nice lizard," I creep back away from the wall. "Go on now, leave and don't come back!"

"Well, that's not a very nice way to greet people." I scream again and watch as the lizard scrambles away as I spin around to face an offended looking lady standing in the doorway to the studio. "I'm so sorry! I...I was just trying to negotiate with a lizard."

The little old lady raises her eyebrows and looks past my shoulder, "I don't see any lizard." Her accent is thick, but her English is spoken almost perfectly. I turn and face the back wall. "He must have got frightened when I screamed, sorry, you made me jump."

"Hmm," little lady mumbles, then proceeds to mumble a few more words in Greek which I don't understand as she makes her way inside my studio. "Erm, excuse me? Can I help you?"

"I came to see my latest..." a pause and a deep looking thought from the lady, "occupant. That's the word."

"Oh," I relax. "You must be Maria, I'm Alana," I smile, leaning down and picking up my toiletry bag.

"I can't be too long; my son is waiting in the car for me. They said I should come by and welcome you to the island," she replies, and she seems...annoyed?

"Erm, that's very kind, thank you," I smile politely.

"Come to Skiathos Town and find Andreas' Taverna, my family own it. They always like to meet the people we host," she turned and walked towards the door, and I swear I hear her mumble 'don't know why.'

"That sounds great, I will make sure I do that," I nod.

Just as she goes to leave, she replies, "it's opposite the church. Find the church and you'll find us."

"Trust me, I know where the church is," I nod, feeling a little strange for how much I really do know about where the church is, it's not that weird I've mapped it out a thousand times or street viewed the walk from the studio to the church repeatedly until it's etched into my brain... right?

She leaves, plunging the room back into silence. Well, that was weird.