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She took the steps from the courtyard two at a time, pausing briefly in the street that ran along Oia’s clifftop, for once oblivious to the view spread out in front of her. Her knees felt shaky, her heart was pounding so hard it hurt, and she was having difficulty breathing, which was making her feel lightheaded.
Her worst nightmare had come to pass.
Her details were on a YouTube video!
Anyone who had followed her story the previous year would surely know it was her, and it was only a matter of time before they came to look for her, taking photographs, demanding an interview, asking probing questions like how she could afford such a glamorous, all-summer-long trip.
Her head started to spin, and she realised that if she continued to allow her demons free rein, she would succumb to a full-blown panic attack. So, with every last ounce of effort she possessed, she began to follow the routine that Amber had taught her when things had been at their worst.
First, she inhaled several long, slow, deep breaths, counting to four on the inhale and four on the exhale. Then, she picked out five separate objects – she was fortunate to have plenty to choose from – and considered each of them for a short while, before moving on to identify four distinct sounds and pinpointing where they came from. Next, she touched three objects, noting their texture and what they were used for, and picked out two different smells floating in the air around her – a warm sugary aroma from the bakery next to the bookshop and a floral scent from a nearby potted geranium. The final task – the one she had always found the hardest to do – was to identify a taste in her mouth, and her lips twitched into a tentative smile when she realised that she could taste the remnants of the coffee Miranda had made for her. When she was done, she found that her heartrate had slowed and her head had cleared.
Even though she had managed to avoid a full-on panic attack, she still felt jittery, and as she made her way back to her studio, she couldn’t stop worrying that someone would step out of the shadows of Oia’s labyrinthine streets and thrust a microphone in front of her, bellowing rapid-fire questions at her until she thought her brain would explode.
Who was this vlogger?
Why was he doing these things?
Did he think his videos were funny?
Finally, she reached her studio – without being door-stepped by a rampaging horde of paparazzi – and dashed up the steps, slamming the door firmly behind her. All she wanted to do was curl up on the sofa and hide from the world but what good would that do? Suddenly she was desperate to share her ordeal with someone who would understand, someone who would empathise, then offer the most sensible, practical advice.
Amber.
She dialled her sister’s number and when she answered immediately, the relief on hearing her voice had a further calming effect, like a soft balm on a paper cut. In one long, uninterrupted sentence, she told Amber aboutHolsHackerand then waited for what felt like hours while her sister watched the video.
‘Wow, that vase looks like a—’
‘Ambie, please, I can’t—’
‘Sorry, sorry. Look, if you want my honest opinion, I really don’t think you have anything to worry about. Your details were on screen for only the briefest of moments, and it’s quite hard to make out the writing, too. You might not agree, but what happened was alongtime ago, Suzie, and no one is going to connect the creator of a piece of art in the window of a gallery in Oia with what happened at a jeweller’s shop in Mayfair. Anyway, it’s not just the quirky vase in that video, is it? There’s other stuff, too. I mean, what on earth happened at the bookshop?’
By the time Suzie had finished telling Amber about Miranda forgetting to lock the door after their literary cocktails night, and that Robyn’s orange face was the result of another of Heidi’s new business ventures, she felt much better and was able to put her fleeting appearance in a travel vlogger’s video into perspective.
‘I miss you, Ambie. When are you coming back to Santorini?’
‘Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.’
Suzie’s stomach dropped. She could tell from the tone of her sister’s voice that she might not like what she was going to say, but it was her turn to be supportive.
‘What’s going on?’
‘Oh, Suzie, you’re not going to believe it. Mum’s arranged for me to do a couple of volunteering sessions at the animal sanctuary with her! Did I tell you they have tigers there? And monkeys, and zebras, and hippos, and bears. So… I was thinking of staying on in Bali for another month.’
‘Another month!’
‘But if you need me to come back, I will.’
Despite her dismay, Suzie knew she couldn’t deny her sister the chance of experiencing something that had been on her wish list for as long as she could remember. Amber loved tigers; they were what she drew when her friends were drawing cats, dogs, mice, and hamsters, not to mention the fact that she had given up so much of her time to support Suzie the previous year when she should have been heading for a relaxing two weeks in Bali.
‘No, no, of course not. Another month is not a problem.’
‘Have you talked to Christos about what happened?’
‘About the vlog?’
‘No, about what happened in London.’
‘No, I haven’t.’
