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‘Yes.’
‘I take it you knew about this?’
‘Yes, I did.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me? Have you informed the police?’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because…’
Fortunately, Miranda was excused from having to explain her regrettable error of forgetting to lock the door behind her because Robyn had expelled a loud shriek of shock.
‘Oh my God!!’
The video had recalibrated, and they were now watching a woman sashay down the one of Oia’s cobbled streets wearing a plum-coloured hippie dress, its embellishment glinting in the sunshine as she moved towards the camera. Seconds later, there was a close-up of Robyn’s orange face that[ED2]Suzie suspected had been manipulated to look even more neon-bright that it actually was, something she hadn’t thought possible.
‘Is… is that me?’
‘It certainly looks like you,’ said Miranda, a note of caution in her voice.
‘Well, don’t I look amazing, darling!’
Suzie was in two minds. Robyn was clearly thrilled that she was the star of the show, and she had to admit that, apart from the orangeness, she did look very striking in her long floaty dress with her halo of blonde curls bouncing around her face. She certainly didn’t look her age! However, she was horrified that Miranda and Robyn had been innocent victims of what was clearlyHolsHacker’s modus operandi of seeking out unfortunate events and uploading them to the internet without the “stars’” express consent. Then something else occurred to her.
‘Robyn, did you see the person who filmed this?’
‘It must have been the guy who I thought had taken my photograph on the way over here.’
‘So it was definitely a man? What did he look like?’
‘I… Hmm, to be honest, I didn’t really take much notice.’
‘Can you rememberanythingabout him? What was he wearing? Did he have red hair and freckles? Was he—’
‘Hang on, guys, the vlog isn’t finished yet,’ said Heidi.
The image on the screen had switched to a very picturesque square in the centre of Oia, surrounded by a plethora of lively bars and restaurants, before panning out to include the glistening Aegean Sea, its surface an exquisite shade of sapphire blue under a dusky aquamarine and pink-streaked sky. After a few moments lingering on one of the most famous views in the Mediterranean, the mini-movie took the viewer on a trip down one of the town’s many cobbled streets, pausing in front of the occasional shop window to illustrate the wide variety of products that were on offer to the discerning visitor.
Suzie’s heart rammed hard against her ribcage as the camera came to a stop in front ofKaterina’s Art Studiowhere the vlogger took his time showcasing a variety of the colourful ceramics on display in the window – bowls, jugs, decorative plaques, small marble statues – before focusing in on the centrepiece that was proudly exhibited on a raised wooden plinth, its gem-encrusted rim sparkling in the early evening sunshine.
‘Does anyone else think that vase looks like a—’
However, Ana’s observation was cut short when a film-star-esque man appeared behind the vase holding a piece of cream-coloured card, which he proceeded to prop up in front of the pedestal before allowing himself a satisfied smile. The camera focused on Christos’ handsome face for what felt like an inordinate amount of time, before zooming in on the words that he’d written on the card.
A wave of nausea rolled through Suzie’s body. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She felt like she had strayed into a particularly distressing nightmare, except this wasn’t a nightmare, it was real life, and her personal details – her name, where she was from, and the fact that she was involved in the jewellery business – which she had always guarded so zealously, had been splashed all over someone’s YouTube channel for his many current, and future, subscribers to see.
The recording came to an end, and all eyes turned towards Suzie. She lowered her gaze, swallowing down hard on the cauldron of emotions that were swirling through her chest: shock, embarrassment, indignation, alarm, anger, and finally – and most acutely of all – panic.
‘Are you okay, Suzie?’ asked Miranda, reaching out to take her hand in hers and giving it a gentle squeeze. ‘You look dreadful. Can I get you a glass of water?’
‘No, I…’
Suddenly all the breath seemed to have been sucked from her lungs and she needed to get away, to attempt to douse the increasing helix of panic before it overwhelmed her, which she couldn’t do while her friends were staring at her with a mixture of expressions ranging from curiosity to amusement.
‘Sorry, I need to get some air.’
