Sitting in the shade beneath the sun canopy, a book open beside her, Ana said, ‘Is there a plan for tonight?’
‘I was thinking we should go out for dinner,’ Bella said. ‘What do you think, Lex?’
‘Sounds perfect.’
‘We could go to a taverna in the Old Town,’ Ana suggested.
‘D’you know any good ones, babe?’ Bella asked, linking her hand through Fen’s.
Fen pictured the Old Town with its cobbled square, the bougainvillea-clad buildings with their crumbling brickwork, the narrow alleys dotted with tiny stalls. Then she focused on that one taverna beneath a fig tree draped in fairy lights. Lavaros. Owned by his family. A motorbike parked alongside, branded with his personalised number plate. She remembered being introduced to him, seeing the leather band on his wrist, and the way his hips moved to the taverna music, and thinking – he’d know the best places to have fun.
Only she’d got him wrong.
So very, very wrong.
She felt her heartbeat quicken. It was seven years ago. She was no longer the na?ve girl who arrived on this island with her soft, doughy body and fanciful ideas about the world. Now she was fit and lean and strong. She ran her own business. She knew herself. She wouldn’t be made to feel weak again.
So why the hell was she standing on a yacht in brilliant sunshine, throat tightening, heart racing, at the thought of returning to the Old Town?
‘So where d’you recommend?’ Bella prompted, squeezing her fingers.
Fen wanted to tell Ana, Yes, the Old Town is a great idea. She wanted to support Ana’s suggestion. She wanted what had happened years ago to not matter. She wanted to be stronger than this.
She was beginning to sweat. Reflected in Bella’s sunglasses, she could see her jaw was clenched, expression blank.
‘Babe?’
She swallowed. ‘The Old Town can be a little touristy. The harbour area is better for tavernas.’
Ana nodded, convinced.
Fen hated herself for the lie. Her earlier joy slipped away like the sun disappearing behind a cloud. She removed her hand from Bella’s, reaching for a towel, wanting her body covered.
When she turned, Robyn was watching her, a perplexed expression creasing her brow.
We journeyed from different corners of the country to be there. We came together for her. Because we loved her. In a hundred different ways we adored her. We wanted her light to shine on us. We wanted to make it special for her, so she’d see how much we loved her. At a hen party, the bride-to-be takes on an almost celestial, golden status.
That weekend, she was the celebrity, and we were her fans and paparazzi.
We were the architects of her rise.
And her fall.
33
Ana
That evening, Lexi climbed from the taxi first, a casual olive dress grazing her bare ankles, hair loose over her tanned shoulders. The others followed, chatting and laughing as they gathered by the harbour. A briny scent lifted from the oil-filmed water. Fishing boats and tourist catamarans were tied to dock pilings, decks cleaned and emptied, wooden clapboards set out advertising the next day’s snorkelling excursions.
‘Let’s find a taverna,’ Robyn said.
Bella, clasped in a peacock-blue dress, linked her arm through Lexi’s, then sashayed ahead. She said something, cinching Lexi’s arm tighter, shoulders shaking as she laughed.
Ana followed with Eleanor, feeling a surge of optimism about the evening: sunset beers and delicious food lay ahead. Talk was of the yacht trip, the food they’d order at the taverna, the sunburn on Robyn’s shoulders, the promise of finding somewhere to go dancing later.
A church bell rang from within the Old Town. She glanced towards the high white walls dripping with bougainvillea. Two stray dogs bounded across the road in chase, tails between their legs.
‘Oh!’ Lexi and Bella had come to a halt. ‘What a shame!’ Lexi said.
The others stopped, following the direction of her gaze. The small cluster of tavernas on the waterside was shrouded by a dark plume of smoke churning from a road-worker vehicle. A gaping hole had been drilled into the concrete and large pipes were being funnelled into the earth.
Ana caught the sulphuric fume of sewage.
‘That stinks,’ Bella said, covering her nose.
‘Plenty of tavernas in the Old Town,’ Eleanor said. She was wearing her uniform of shorts and a T-shirt, but Ana was pleased to see her new leather handbag hooked over a shoulder.
‘It’s just through the stone archway, there,’ Ana said, pointing. On impulse, she linked her arm through Eleanor’s, and the two of them steered the way.