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‘Really?’
‘Really!’
‘And you don’t mind working at the gallery every morning?’
‘Not at all.’
‘And you won’t fill my studio with a bunch of random Greek paraphernalia?’
‘What? No!’
‘And you promise to water my plants?’ She laughed.
‘Of course.’
‘Oh, Suze, this is absolutely a dream come true! And you never know, you might find your own Tom while you’re here! Santorini has a reputation as an Island of Romance.’
‘You know that’s not going to happen, Ambie.’
‘Not everyone is like Adam, Suzie,’ said Amber, softly.
‘I know, I just—’
‘Oh my God! Oh my God! I have to call Tom!’
The shriek of joy rippling down the phone line left Suzie in no doubt that she had done the right thing, and her heart filled with love as she said goodbye to her big sister and promised to call her later to finalise the details. However, no sooner had she slotted her phone back into her pocket before the positivity bubble burst, and she came back down to the earth with a painful bump that sent a sharp zip of regret through her chest.
What on earth was she thinking?
She couldn’t go to Santorini!
What if someone recognised her?
But that was ridiculous!
Katerina’s art gallery-cum-boutique was on the outskirts of Oia, a small town in the north of the island overlooking the spectacular caldera, with labyrinthine streets paved with cobbles and lined with a myriad of whitewashed shops selling a wide range of artisan products, and pretty tavernas with the most spectacular views in the Aegean, if not the whole of Greece.
How likely was it that someone would remember something that had happened over a year ago? Or the identity of the people who were caught up in it? Anyway, she looked different now; not only had she lost a great deal of weight through the stress of it all, but her pale blonde hair – which she had always worn in an elegant up-do while living in London – was now cut into a choppy pixie style with a smattering of pink highlights that she loved.
She had also ditched the smart designer suits, the expensive jewellery, and the crippling four inch heels her employers – and her ex-boyfriend, Adam – had expected her to wear, and replaced them with loose, drawstring trousers and tee-shirts in natural organic fabrics and, wherever possible, walked around in bare feet. She was much more her authentic self in Blossomwood Bay than she had ever been during her time in London, which was one of the few positives to have come from what had happened.
Another positive was that she didn’t have to worry about packing – she had nothing left to take to Santorini. She hoped that Holly still had the tee-shirts and summer dresses she’d bought during her recent trip to Hawaii, and maybe Rachel could lend her one of her yoga outfits and Beckie the promised pair of shoes. She didn’t need much; she had learned that.
An unexpected whoosh of confidence swept away her fears.
She would go to Santorini!
Maybe the change of scenery would give her creativity coffers a welcome injection of inspiration. Maybe the beauty of the Aegean landscape would reignite her passion for designing the quirky jewellery she had made in her beach hut studio before the fire. Or maybe she could explore a whole new direction – painting, ceramics, photography – so that when she came back to Blossomwood Bay she could resume her quiet, unobtrusive life with a new way of earning a living under her belt.
She pushed herself up from her seat and was about to leave the snug to tell Holly, Beckie, and Rachel what she was going to do when she was struck by a thunderbolt of realisation, and she chastised herself for her lack of consideration for the most important thing in her life.
Her plan had a fatal flaw!
How could she have forgotten?
There was no way she could go to Santorini!
‘Hey Suzie, are you in here?’ Holly called from the back door.
