‘Great. Just throw me in the sea if I don’t make it.’
Charlotte ignored Maddie’s outburst and glanced at her guidebook. She still preferred to buy one as soon as she got to any holiday destination rather than rely solely on her phone.What if the battery died? The thought of not being prepared brought her out in a cold sweat. Even more so, now. Any problem she could eliminate before it hit her was a win.
‘Apparently the view from the top is even more amazing. We’d better get a move on. It shuts at seven, and there’s lots to look at.’
Maddie and Sofia raised their eyes to the heavens behind their friend’s back.
‘I know what you’re doing.’
Charlotte whipped out her phone.
‘OK, quick selfie of us in front of the monastery for the blog first. Smile. Say cheese!’
Maddie’s sigh told Sofia that she wasn’t the only one who wasn’t keen on the idea of endless photo opportunities. They were here to relax, not pose on their sunloungers like twentysomethings. Charlotte had decided she was going to document their trip, but they didn’t seem to have much of asay in it. She’d have to devise ways of keeping that to a minimum, especially if it was going to upset Maddie.
Photo over, the three of them set off together up the steps, but it soon became obvious they’d need regular stops to allow Maddie to catch up. By unspoken agreement, Charlotte and Sofia made a big show of drinking from their water bottles every few minutes and exclaiming about how hot they were. Sofia hoped there’d be toilets in the monastery; at this rate she’d need one the moment she reached the top.
She was close enough to Charlotte to hear her tut every now and again at their progress, but luckily Maddie was too far away.
‘Not far now! One last push.’
Charlotte’s voice rang around the stone, bouncing off the cliff and out to sea.
Maddie, bent double, raised her head.
‘Give it a rest, Char. We’re not on a school trip. Or about to give birth. Please cut out that “head of the PTAtone”.’
‘But I was head of the PTA.’
‘Yes, and don’t we know it. Don’t let me lose my place. I’m counting the steps. Two hundred and eighty bloody eight… Two hundred and eighty bloody nine…’
At the top, Charlotte clapped loudly as the three of them reached the entrance.
‘Well done us.’
The sight of old skirts, trousers and shirts hung over railings greeted them, next to a notice translated into many languages. Sofia read it with care.
‘Hang on. We could have borrowed the stuff here to make ourselves decent enough to get inside and just worn shorts and t-shirts on the climb, rather than suffering in these hot dresses.’
Charlotte’s look of surprise was a bit too animated for Sofia’s liking. She pointed a finger at her friend.
‘You knew, didn’t you? You always do your research.’
Charlotte looked the other way.
‘I’ve got it! You just didn’t want to put on old clothes that other tourists have worn. You’ve always had a thing about clothes from charity shops.’
Maddie put her hand up to touch a floral elasticated skirt billowing in the breeze.
‘Is that true, Char? If so, you should be ashamed on both counts. I love charity shops. Most things I own are from them. And they provide a big chunk of funding for the care home. We couldn’t cope without it.’
Charlotte sighed and put her hands in the air.
‘OK, sorry, you’ve got me. Look, I regularly give money to charity too. It’s not charity shops per se that I don’t like or buying stuff from them.’
Sofia screwed up her nose.
‘So, what is it then?’
