‘I’m fine.’
Later that evening, after I’ve walked Will home, Mum and I linger outside, with a fresh glass of wine.
‘Is it nice to see him again?’
‘Yeah, it’s cool.’
Mum swills the wine in her glass, her legs crossed. ‘I see it sometimes, Sam. I’m sorry if you’ve ever resented us moving here.’
I baulk, leaning forwards. ‘Not at all.’
‘You know you don’t have to stay around, don’t you?’ Mum gives me her concerned look. ‘If you want to do something else, I’m not holding you back.’
‘I know that. Where’s this coming from, Mum?’
Mum looks at me, then at the photo album. ‘I saw how happy you looked when you talked with Will. I haven’t seen you that happy in a long time.’
I lean back into my chair. ‘It’s nice to reminisce, that’s all. Simpler times, weren’t they?’
‘You were inseparable.’
Yes, we were. But I don’t like the way Mum is looking at me, like she’s trying to get into my head. Mum and I have always been close, always told each other everything. ‘What do you think will happen with him and his ex?’
I don’t miss Mum’s small smile, as if what she’s thinking has been addressed in some way. ‘That’s for him to work out, and not for us to get involved in.’
‘Yeah, you’re right.’
I don’t need the drama.
But I do crave some excitement.
Chapter Seventeen
WILL
Day Two
Ollie’s here. He’s landed in Athens sooner than I’d imagined and I’d be lying if I said I haven’t turned notifications on for any social media posts from his accounts.
Okay, play it cool.
Why wouldn’t Ollie be in Athens? That’s the whole point of being here. He was always going to arrive at some point. It’s was hardly surprising.
But tell that to my beating heart. Panic-stricken thoughts make me get ready in a flash. One minute I’m showering, the next I’m in the lobby walking past Lydia, who ignores my wave as I enter the restaurant for breakfast. Though she smiles, as if she’s enjoying playing with me.
In the breakfast hall, I barely register what is going on around me, lost in anticipation of seeing Ollie again at some point in the next few days. He’ll want to meet me, won’t he, before the wedding? I’m vaguely aware of tables being full and of the smell of cooked breakfast filling the room. Grabbing a fresh orange juice, piling my plate with scrambled eggs, tomato, fetacheese and sesame bread rings, I trot over to the nearest table, fully set on checking Ollie’s socials, maybe even texting him.
But then I see what I am surrounded by, and the plate of food almost slips from my grip.
Quickly placing my plate and glass on the table, I have to rub my eyes like a cartoon character to be sure I’m really seeing what’s going on around me.
Exposed flesh.
Dangling bits.
Naked people.
Everywhere I look, nakedness.
