‘That doesn’t sound good. I’ll try and get her on her own for a chat too. We love her dearly, but I do agree she’s being a bit Hyacinth Bucket.’
‘Most of the people back there’—Maddie pointed into the tiny church—‘wouldn’t have a clue who we were talking about.’
‘Shame. They’re missing out.’
Charlotte wandered out of the monastery door at that very moment and stood looking out to sea, oblivious to them standing at the end of the narrow pathway.
‘Char! Over here.’
Sofia took a deep breath at the unguarded sadness in her friend’s eyes when she turned round, before she plastered on a smile. Maddie was worried about Charlotte and in turn Charlotte was worried about Maddie. She was concerned about both of them. And Charlotte had undoubtably, and correctly, picked up that there was stuff going on with her too. All three of them were hiding things they didn’t want the others to know. It wasn’t their usual way of communicating, but the traumatic events of the past year or so had contributed to them being a little bit distant from each other, rather than pulling them ever closer together.
Also, she suspected no one, herself included, wanted to ruin this precious holiday together in Greece with tales of woe. As far as proof went, she could only really speak for herself, but she’d put good money on it being true for each one of them. She’d have to find a way of gently teasing out the secrets and maybe revealing her own if the time was right.
Chapter Three
The main town– orchora,as Charlotte informed them all main towns on the islands were referred to as a matter of course– was splayed out below, white houses tumbling down the hillside like building blocks.
They’d come in at the top of the town, after leaving the monastery behind, and it felt to Sofia like the narrow lanes bound on either side by whitewashed stone walls were beckoning them in, inviting them to wander among the shops and cafés.
Charlotte set off determinedly down the nearest one on the right.
‘We can take any one of these. They’ll all lead to the main square eventually.’
Sofia and Maddie followed in her wake, but Maddie halted after only a few steps.
‘Stop! Wait a second. Look at these. Aren’t they pretty?’
She pointed down at the basic flower shapes outlined in white paint every couple of metres on the grey stone pathways.
‘And look, up that way there’s a different shape… Little boats! And the one over there has cats.’
Maddie looked back down at her feet.
‘It seems a shame to walk on them.’
Charlotte whipped out her phone and snapped away.
‘Well spotted. They’re cute, and great for the blog.’
The blog was something she’d devised on the plane over to try to take her mind off Doug and his mistress. Giving herself something to work on would have to take the place of painting or drawing, her usual ways of losing herself and escaping her own thoughts.
It was yet another thing Doug had taken from her, the ability to paint, to do her job, the job she loved with a passion. Since she’d fled from the scene in that office a month ago, and ordered Doug into the spare bedroom, the muse had completely deserted her.
Every time she walked into her studio at home, her pulse raced, and when she sat down at the hand-made easel and looked at the selection of paints in front of her, her mind went blank.
Even squeezing some paint from a couple of tubes and touching it onto the paper with her favourite brushes failed to ignite anything beyond a series of blobs of colour, blurring as the tears fell onto her lap. Luckily, she’d already finished and delivered everything necessary for a prestigious gallery exhibition in a few months’ time. But the thought that she might not be able to paint again scared her almost as much as the situation with Doug.
She supposed she should have discussed the idea of the blog with the others beforehand, but she needed it so badly, she couldn’t bear one or both of them kicking up a fuss and making her stop.
Sofia nudging her brought her back to the present.
‘Char? You’ve been on the same shot for ages.’
‘Sorry. I wonder if they mean anything?’
Sofia gave her a sly smile.
‘You mean you don’t know?
