Ana ducked swiftly out of the shot. Eleanor would have too, had she been quick enough. Who liked a photo in a swimsuit lingering in perpetuity on someone else’s camera roll?
The water frothed and fizzed as the rest of them lowered themselves from the ladder, squealing and splashing as they jostled with fins and masks.
Voices quietened as the hens began putting their faces beneath the water, swimming away from the yacht. A peal of laughter bubbled from Lexi’s snorkel pipe. The water was so clear that Eleanor could see Fen dive beneath the surface in pursuit of a shoal of small fish.
Yannis tidied up the spare fins and masks, humming gently to himself, before disappearing into the galley to begin the food preparations. Alone on deck, Eleanor felt a little cloud of sadness descend.
Still, she had her book for company. Plus, she’d already spied the cool box where she was hoping an alcoholic beverage or two would be chilling.
Removing her sunglasses, she peered at her reflection, smoothing down her hair with her fingers. The boat journey had created frizzy volume in all the wrong places, giving her the appearance of a mushroom. She could really use a blow-dry.
Trips to the hair salon were her one weekly indulgence. She block-booked the last slot every Thursday afternoon for a wash and blow-dry. It wasn’t that she was particularly vain about her hair （although it was her strongest asset: thick dark-auburn hair, which she wore in a smooth bob to her chin）。 It was because of Reece. He had sleeve tattoos in intriguing, complex patterns, and when his thumbs pressed gently into her temples, she’d feel her body relaxing, releasing. She’d melt into the leather chair, close her eyes and luxuriate in the warmth of his hands against her scalp.
Once, she’d cried. Right there with her head tipped back in a sink of warm water. She’d decided that she’d have to stop visiting the salon after that, but Reece had been very sweet about it and she’d forced herself to return the following week, despite turning around twice on the walk there.
Every Thursday Reece would ask the same question. ‘Off anywhere nice tonight?’ She’d pick one of her favourite answers: Yes, I’m meeting friends for dinner, or I’m going to the cinema with my brother, or even, I’ve got a date tonight. In fact, what Eleanor did every Thursday was return to her empty flat with her good hair, alone. She’d stride into the lounge, pausing in front of Sam’s ashes, which were contained in a black urn with a Dungeons and Dragons sticker in the centre. ‘Got Reece at the salon today,’ she might say, smoothing her freshly styled hair. She’d give a lascivious wink, adding, ‘Did a double condition, didn’t he?’
She could always feel Sam’s laughter in her chest, warm and easy. At first, she’d felt a little self-conscious talking to his ashes, but then it had become part of the routine of her day – telling him what she was doing or asking his opinion. He was like an invisible guide, telling her, EJ! Course you should go out tonight! Do it! Put on those smokin’ jeans I love!
When she had received Bella’s email about the hen weekend, she’d glanced up from her laptop, her gaze resting briefly on Sam’s urn. Then, just as swiftly, she’d looked away.
She hadn’t asked his opinion about whether she should join the hen weekend, because she knew exactly what he would’ve said.
Don’t. Don’t you go.
29
Ana
Ana floated on the shimmering surface, watching a pale-bellied fish dart towards the seabed. After a few seconds, she lifted her face from the water to breathe. She couldn’t get the hang of breathing through a snorkel pipe. She’d never snorkelled before. Never been on a yacht. Never been to Greece. There were, she realised, a lot of things she’d never done.
She pulled the mask onto the top of her head, treading water, trying not to think about how far down the seabed was. Her experience of swimming was limited to her local lido, where she was only ever a few metres from its concrete sides.
She wished she were enjoying this – savouring the experience of snorkelling in the Aegean Sea, giddy on sun-drunk holiday pleasures – but instead, a voice in her head whispered coolly: You shouldn’t be here.
The holiday seemed to do something strange to her sense of time, elasticating it so that some moments felt slower and extended, her senses enlivened with a new clarity – before snapping back smartly, leaving her shocked that she was so far from home, from Luca.
Giving up on snorkelling, she turned and swam for the yacht.
When she reached the stern, she hauled herself up the ladder, water sluicing from her skin.