One of the Girls(67)

She squeezed Bella’s hands and said, ‘Babe, is everything okay?’

‘Absolutely fan-fucking-tastic! Fen and I have just broken up!’

Robyn, returning with the drinks, halted. ‘Oh, Bella!’

Bella laughed. ‘It’s fine! Relax! We’re both cool about it.’

Lexi said, ‘I’m so sorry—’

‘Nope. We’re not doing pity. Or break-up therapy. It’s the last day of the hen weekend. All I want to do is have a good time!’ She raised her glass. ‘Understood?’

Robyn and Lexi exchanged glances. ‘Understood.’

They sipped their drinks in silence.

‘Eleanor!’ Bella called moments later, seeing her emerge onto the terrace to clear glasses. ‘What is on the menu later?’

‘Bella!’ Lexi hissed. ‘Eleanor, join us for a drink?’

‘No, thanks,’ she said, her gaze flicking coolly to Bella, before she returned inside the villa.

Lexi remembered what Eleanor had said out on the water. ‘You told Eleanor I only invited her on the hen do because I feel sorry for her.’

Bella shrugged. ‘Well, you do, don’t you?’

‘I wanted to get to know her better. We’re going to be sisters-in-law. You should make more of an effort with her. She’s had a rough time.’

‘Yeah, I know, you said. Her boyfriend died.’ Her breath smelt alcoholic as she stage-whispered, ‘Have you checked she didn’t bump him off?’

‘Bella!’ Robyn said.

‘What? There’s something creepy about her, you’ve got to admit.’

Lexi stood. She knew Bella was hurting over the break-up, but it didn’t excuse cruelness.

‘I’m only messing,’ Bella said, rising to her feet and sauntering towards the pool. She slinked down the steps, giving a shiver as the cool water met her skin.

‘It wasn’t her boyfriend who died,’ Lexi said as she passed the poolside. ‘He was her fiancé – and they should’ve been celebrating their first wedding anniversary in a few weeks, so try to be nice.’

But Bella had already dived under, her body a shimmering vision beneath the surface.





We wanted the last night of the holiday to be memorable.

We pictured ourselves partying at the hem of the ocean beneath a blanket of stars, wood smoke in our hair and alcohol warm in our throats. Looking back – even knowing what happened – there were some beautiful moments that evening, happy ones, the six of us, together.

It’s just they get forgotten, buried beneath the darker memories: the crack of a hand across a cheek, swift and violent; a blood-red wisp of fabric falling through the night; the urgent screech of sirens echoing off the dark mountainside. And all the while, the fire ablaze on the shore.





58

Fen

That evening, Fen knelt on the beach, stones pressing against her bare knees. She thumbed a lighter, holding it to the scrunched newspaper nestled beneath a tepee of driftwood. After a few seconds, the paper caught, flames licking at the smallest twigs. Leaning closer, she blew into the fire, feeding the heat with oxygen, watching the flames stretch and grow.

‘Fire starter,’ Eleanor said, sitting nearby, a bottle of beer between her knees.

Fen reached for her beer, twisted the cap free, and stretched across to clink it against Eleanor’s. ‘Cheers.’

The night gathered close, the air smelling of salt and wood smoke.

They’d amassed a good pile of tinder-dry wood, enough to keep the beach fire stoked long into the night. Eleanor had dotted lanterns around the beach and laid blankets and cushions around the fire, while Fen had hauled down a cooler of drinks and set a speaker on top. Now a chilled playlist was washing across the cove.

Fen had enjoyed setting this up with Eleanor. Plus, it had given her something to do: she’d been trying to keep a low profile all afternoon, staying out of Bella’s way. She’d taken a long walk in the solitude of the mountains and been content to sit in the shade, watching a lizard bask in a streak of sun, while birds dusted their beaks through the dry earth in search of insects.

When she’d finally returned to the villa, she’d found Bella sitting beside an emptied cocktail jug tide-lined with browning mint, and a finished bottle of Prosecco bobbing in a bucket of melted ice. She’d wanted to go to her, check she was okay, but Bella had hooked her sunglasses on and snapped her head in the other direction.

Fen understood. Bella was barely holding herself together. She needed to get through the hen weekend. Talking, unpiecing things – all of that was for later. Even a shard of kindness could crack open everything she was desperate to hold in.

‘The final night of the hen weekend,’ Eleanor said, picking up a pebble and turning it through her fingers. ‘Are you pleased to be going home?’

Fen thought about her answer. Returning to Aegos had been far harder than she’d anticipated – and coupled with the break-up, she felt emotionally wrung out. ‘I am. Maybe this sounds odd, but I’m looking forward to getting back to work.’ She missed her little studio with its family of indoor plants. It was a space she’d created, tended, loved. The rent was more than she could really afford, but she liked being able to walk to the beach on her lunch break, or drink coffee in the sunshine at a pavement table opposite the studio. ‘How about you? Will you be pleased to get home?’