“Duvets,” Mia said, prodding one with her foot. “Not that we’ll need them if it stays this hot.”
“I’ve been sleeping under a pashmina,” Skye said, deciding not to mention the hated air bed.
Dusty had marched over to the far wall, to where a livid crack ran across the plaster.
“What in the crumble-stiltskin?” she said with a groan.
Mia pulled a face and ushered Skye through into the kitchen, which was even more compact than her own. The sisters had only a small fridge and microwave and, aside from a single rickety chair, no furniture to speak of.
“I’d offer you something to drink,” Mia said, “but we have no tea bags, coffee, milk, or sugar, and I’ve no idea which box the mugs are in.”
Skye’s stomach growled, the sound embarrassingly loud.
“I can stretch to a chocolate digestive, though?” Mia went on. “I’m sure there was a half-finished packet somewhere around here, unless Dusty ate them. She eats like most people breathe,” she added, and Skye laughed as an indignant “Oi!” filtered through from the other room.
“The bathroom is in there”—Mia indicated a second door—“but that’s it. The only other space we have is at the far end of the garden, and that’s just a hut full of broken pots and a few old tools. Dusty has grand plans for the place, of course, but for a while, it looks like we’ll be bunking down on the floor, all three of us sharing one room again, like we did as kids.”
“You don’t sound too thrilled by the prospect,” Skye observed, and Mia shrugged.
“Needs must. At least I can use Bruno as a pillow.”
“Is he your dog, then?”
Mia ran a finger along the wall, watching as a shoal of plaster cascaded to the floor. She wrinkled her nose, then turned to Skye.
“Officially, he belongs to all of us, but I’ve looked after him the most since my mum passed away. Bruno and me, we have a bond.”
Touched by Mia’s obvious sorrow, Skye searched forsomething to say. The silence that stretched was broken by another loud groan from Dusty.
“I could park a four-wheeler in this crevasse,” she muttered before calling through, “This whole interior will need to be replastered.”
“Don’t pretend you’re not glad about it,” Mia called back. Then to Skye she added, “Dusty works in construction, hence all the tools and the grand plans.”
“And you?”
“I’m a vet,” she said with a certain amount of pride. “Newly qualified. I don’t suppose you know if there’s a clinic on the island?”
“Sorry, no.” Skye thought for a moment. “Though if there is one, it’ll most likely be in Chora.”
Mia nodded, looking thoughtful.
“I hope you’re right,” she said. “Moving here wasn’t even my idea. It wasn’t— Never mind.”
“It wasn’t what?” Skye said, but Mia had stepped away and was peering into the other room.
“Did you hear that?” she said. “I think there’s someone outside.”
It was Andreas, accompanied by the eldest sister, Louisa, who was tall and willowy with a Rapunzel sweep of red curls. Both were holding bulging shopping bags.
“I might have overdone it,” Louisa said, lowering her cargo of groceries to the floor. “There were so many delicious-looking things, all so fresh, and the nice man at the shop insisted I take a bottle of ouzo on the house.”
“I’m starved,” Dusty said, bending to root through the nearest bag. Having extracted a packet of Lay’s oregano chips, she tore them open and began to crunch noisily. Bruno the basset hound, having been roused from his doorstep slumber by the whiff offood, heaved himself onto all four paws and shambled toward them.
“Not a chance,” Dusty scolded when he pressed his snout against her leg. Mia threw her sister a scathing look before digging in the pocket of her shorts.
“Here,” she said, tossing the dog a treat. “Good boy.”
“This is Andreas,” Louisa said, turning pink as the man in question smiled around at them. “He saw me struggling up the hill and offered to help.”
