One of the Girls(43)

Bella resettled her sunglasses. ‘All cleared up.’

Neither of them said anything further.

Lexi lay back on her towel, the deck hard beneath her spine as she stared up at the cloudless sky.





32

Fen

Fen swam towards the yacht, heart light. She held onto the ladder as she removed her dive fins.

‘We made it!’ Robyn beamed, reaching her side. She trod water as she peeled off her snorkel mask, red indents bracketing her temples.

‘The wanderers return!’ Bella emerged at the stern, bikini straps pushed down, dark glasses on. The Greek flag billowed above her as she leaned over, saying, ‘Pass up your fins.’

Fen handed them to her, then climbed the ladder to where the others lounged in their swimwear with drinks.

‘How was the swimming hole?’ Lexi asked.

‘Absolutely beautiful,’ Fen said, rubbing salt water from her shorn hair.

‘It really was,’ Robyn said, breathless as she clambered on deck, dripping. ‘It’s this perfect azure pool right in the middle of rocks. God, it was amazing! But colder – definitely colder than the sea.’ Robyn fished a towel from her beach bag and made a turban of her wet hair.

‘You’ve been gone ages,’ Bella said. She stood on her tiptoes, kissing Fen on the mouth, her sun-baked body pressing briefly against Fen’s damp skin. Fen felt herself pulling back.

‘Was there somewhere you could dive from?’ Eleanor asked, a book shading the sun from her eyes.

Robyn answered, ‘One of the rocks juts forward like a natural dive platform. It felt so high. I can’t believe I did it. It was such a rush!’

‘You little thrill-seeker, you!’ Bella said.

Fen knew that if Bella had been there, they’d all have had permission to enthuse about the adventure – but since she wasn’t, Bella wouldn’t want to hear about it.

Yannis called from below, ‘Lunch coming in five minutes, okay?’

Everyone murmured their approval. ‘Whatever he’s preparing smells incredible,’ Lexi said.

Sitting in the shade beneath the sun canopy, a book open beside her, Ana said, ‘Is there a plan for tonight?’

‘I was thinking we should go out for dinner,’ Bella said. ‘What do you think, Lex?’

‘Sounds perfect.’

‘We could go to a taverna in the Old Town,’ Ana suggested.

‘D’you know any good ones, babe?’ Bella asked, linking her hand through Fen’s.

Fen pictured the Old Town with its cobbled square, the bougainvillea-clad buildings with their crumbling brickwork, the narrow alleys dotted with tiny stalls. Then she focused on that one taverna beneath a fig tree draped in fairy lights. Lavaros. Owned by his family. A motorbike parked alongside, branded with his personalised number plate. She remembered being introduced to him, seeing the leather band on his wrist, and the way his hips moved to the taverna music, and thinking – he’d know the best places to have fun.

Only she’d got him wrong.

So very, very wrong.

She felt her heartbeat quicken. It was seven years ago. She was no longer the na?ve girl who arrived on this island with her soft, doughy body and fanciful ideas about the world. Now she was fit and lean and strong. She ran her own business. She knew herself. She wouldn’t be made to feel weak again.

So why the hell was she standing on a yacht in brilliant sunshine, throat tightening, heart racing, at the thought of returning to the Old Town?

‘So where d’you recommend?’ Bella prompted, squeezing her fingers.

Fen wanted to tell Ana, Yes, the Old Town is a great idea. She wanted to support Ana’s suggestion. She wanted what had happened years ago to not matter. She wanted to be stronger than this.

She was beginning to sweat. Reflected in Bella’s sunglasses, she could see her jaw was clenched, expression blank.

‘Babe?’

She swallowed. ‘The Old Town can be a little touristy. The harbour area is better for tavernas.’

Ana nodded, convinced.

Fen hated herself for the lie. Her earlier joy slipped away like the sun disappearing behind a cloud. She removed her hand from Bella’s, reaching for a towel, wanting her body covered.

When she turned, Robyn was watching her, a perplexed expression creasing her brow.





We journeyed from different corners of the country to be there. We came together for her. Because we loved her. In a hundred different ways we adored her. We wanted her light to shine on us. We wanted to make it special for her, so she’d see how much we loved her. At a hen party, the bride-to-be takes on an almost celestial, golden status.

That weekend, she was the celebrity, and we were her fans and paparazzi.

We were the architects of her rise.

And her fall.





33

Ana

That evening, Lexi climbed from the taxi first, a casual olive dress grazing her bare ankles, hair loose over her tanned shoulders. The others followed, chatting and laughing as they gathered by the harbour. A briny scent lifted from the oil-filmed water. Fishing boats and tourist catamarans were tied to dock pilings, decks cleaned and emptied, wooden clapboards set out advertising the next day’s snorkelling excursions.

‘Let’s find a taverna,’ Robyn said.