Charlotte took a moment to practise the deep breathing she’d been taught in yoga class.
Who was she to advise him on anything? She could certainly dish it out, but could she take her own advice about being brave? It wasn’t like she had a clue what she was going to do next about her own relationship. It was hanging by a thread, that was the only thing she was sure about, but any decisions she made could be life changing.
It had been one strange morning, and it wasn’t even six o’clock. The others wouldn’t be up for hours.
Chapter Six
They’d all agreed at breakfast to spend the morning on the beach, chilling, followed by an afternoon activity. Paddleboarding had come first in the vote, much to Maddie’s annoyance. She sighed as she got up from her sunlounger and followed the others heading for the shoreline. They’d outvoted her two to one. It wasn’t the sort of afternoon activity she’d had in mind. She’d have been perfectly happy to stay under her umbrella ordering cocktails and possibly strolling up and down the beach a couple of times. But no, Sofia and Charlotte were determined to ‘do something physical’ after sunning themselves for a few hours and dipping in and out of the sea.
Maddie had forced herself to go in earlier up to her waist but returned to her sunlounger sharpish. It wasn’t quite as warm as she’d hoped, still being June, but she’d given it a go. She wasn’t the world’s greatest swimmer and preferred to stay well within her depth. Tony had been the swimmer. She’d been the one waiting on the beach towel with the picnic and the Thermos of coffee. She mused a moment on why couples insisted on assigning roles to themselves. It was almost as if she hadn’tdared to improve her swimming when Tony was alive, so that his position as the Mark Spitz of the north wasn’t challenged.
And she had to admit she’d have found it strange if Tony had taken singing lessons and started belting out her beloved soul classics, or any songs at all. That was her thing, and she’d thoroughly enjoyed being in her choir, especially when they performed at care homes, including her own, and got all the residents clapping along to the oldies.
For the past hour she’d been content to watch Sofia use her stylish front crawl, going so far out to sea she could barely make out who it was, and imagining for a moment it was Tony, about to turn round and swim back to her.
‘Keep up, Mads!’
Charlotte and Sofia had already reached the three paddleboards laid out on the sand, one red, one blue and one yellow, presumably so they could work out who was drowning in an emergency. Not that she was being negative or anything.
Big black double-ended paddles lay beside each one, and Maddie was pleased to see life jackets as well. Health and safety didn’t always seem to be at the top of the average Greek’s agenda, if their driving was anything to go by.
‘Bagsy the blue one!’
Charlotte had already stationed herself by the paddleboard at the far end.
Sofia turned to her.
‘Mads? Any preference?’
‘Not doing it and going back to my sunlounger?’
‘Hilarious. We’ve signed up now.’
Sofia twirled her finger around in what she probably thought was a cool move.
‘There’s no getting out of it. It’s happening, girl.’
‘Then I really don’t care if I make a fool of myself on the red one or the yellow one.’
‘OK, I’ll take yellow then.’ Sofia stared down at her floral bikini. ‘It goes a lot better with this.’
Maddie was still in one of the two swimsuits she’d been rinsing out in the shower each night. Just how many bikinis did Sofia own? She’d counted at least five and they were only on day four.
‘OK, I’ll take the red paddleboard and do my best Pamela Anderson in Baywatch impression then.’
‘Looking forward to that.’
The arrival of their instructor stopped Maddie’s slow-motion run along the beach towards the board.
They all stopped what they were doing for a moment to stand and stare.
‘Hello. I am Giannis, here to help you.’
Even she, who was convinced she’d never look at another man in her lifetime, let alone sleep with one, could appreciate that Giannis was a bit of all right. Unlike the pretty boy, Dimitris, at the pool, this was no callow youth. There was no doubt that Giannis was a grown-up.
Knocking forty, ‘tall, dark and handsome’ didn’t do justice to his six pack, muscly legs and tousled sun-bleached hair, coupled with green eyes the colour at the very edge of the sea. Crikey, she needed to get a grip.
‘So, have any of you been paddleboarding before?’
