Page 63 of Hot Greek Summer

‘She did,’ Angelo said. ‘And now I have a message for you too.’ He leaned in and murmured something quietly in her ear, making her eyes open wide.

‘Can you ladies do without me for half an hour?’ she grinned. The question was academic. Angelo picked her up and threw her over his good shoulder as he stalked from the kitchen, making her screech and slap him on the ass as he left the room.

Out on the deserted beach an hour later, Frankie unrolled her yoga mat and moved through a series of deliberate stretches, clearing her head of everything but the pattern of her breathing, concentrating on getting her poses right in the hope that they’d grant her some serenity. For Marcia, she’d truly tried to cast herself in the role of brave adventurer since they’d left the familiarity of home shores. She wanted to honour her friend’s memory in the best way possible, and that meant chucking away her spreadsheet mentality and stepping outside her comfort zone.

Sensing movement behind her, she sent a small smile to Angelo, who’d clearly concluded his business with Stella and thrown on shorts and a T-shirt for their morning session.

‘The range of movement in your joint seems to be increasing,’ she observed, as he turned with her to look out over his injured shoulder.

He nodded briefly, not engaging in conversation. Frankie was glad of his quiet company; yoga practice for her was all about peace and harmony, not chatting and competing.

Kneeling on all fours, she walked her hands back to assume the downward dog position, and looking between her legs she spotted a third person laying down a towel to join them.Seth.He raised a casual hand when he caught her eye, and Frankie smiled back, small and tight. So much for inner peace and harmony, she thought. How the hell am I supposed to do sun salutations with one of the hottest men on the planet behind me looking at my ass? Does it look huge in these sweatpants? All these thoughts and more whizzed through her suddenly active brain, so much so that she almost felt as if it was pointless to continue. She might have allowed herself to stop, but then she spotted Hero scuttling out of the villa, her shy eyes full of trepidation as she stood at the back of the others and tried to assume the same pose as Frankie.

These people need me.The thought struck her unexpectedly. Angelo was healing, Seth was trying to escape the stresses of his outlandish life, and Hero … well, she’d had a traumatic morning and a calming bit of yoga might be just the thing.

‘You’ve got this, Frank,’ she whispered. ‘You’ve got this.’

And she had. Hadn’t she spent the last eighteen years of her life being an active role model for the boys? Hadn’t she spent hundreds of hours on the yoga mat at the local community centre back home, ring-fencing those precious sessions as necessary for her sanity? She’d got this.

Breathing with purpose, she started to move.

A little after lunch, all three of them stood behind the reception desk with the fan on full speed.

‘That’s it then, I think,’ Stella said, crossing the final reservation off the booking sheet. ‘All clear for the next two months to accommodate Seth’s request for the whole place.’

They’d contacted the handful of holidaymakers who’d already made reservations and explained that unforeseen circumstances meant that they’d have to cancel their bookings, offering them a generous discount on a return visit and hints for other available accommodation over on Skiathos and Skopelos.

‘I didn’t enjoy that at all,’ Winnie said. As it had turned out the people had been generally understanding and appreciative of a personal call rather than an email, but all the same she’d felt shabby for letting them down.

‘Maybe we can think of something we can offer them, or send them some island gin as a gift?’ Frankie suggested.

‘Oh, I like that idea,’ Winnie said, and then her face fell. ‘The gin doesn’t leave the island. Ajax’s letter, remember?’

‘Did somebody say gin?’

Mikey Miller strolled in from the terrace, fresh as a daisy aside from his bloodshot eyes.

‘Mr Miller,’ Stella said, cordial given the circumstances. ‘You almost burnt our bed and breakfast down last night.’

He looked contrite, as well he might. ‘My bad.’ He tried out hangdog eyes and got nowhere. ‘God, you’re a tough crowd.’

He was lucky that Seth and Jamie followed him inside at that moment, because it was highly likely that Stella might have launched herself across reception at him.

‘Well?’ Seth said, staring at his friend.

Mikey looked at the ceiling.

‘Have you done it yet?’ Jamie Harte looked equally pissed off with his bandmate. Jamie was known to be the least fame-hungry of the three, a surfer who’d got lucky because he played guitar, could hold a note, and had been in the right place at the right time.

Mikey shuffled his feet and took off his baseball cap, revealing his razor-sharp haircut as he shuffled from foot to foot.

‘I’m sorry for causing the fire,’ he said, apologising in the manner of a schoolboy dragged back into a sweetshop to apologise for stealing gobstoppers. ‘It was an accident and I promise it won’t happen again.’

‘Won’t happen again?’ Stella said, her voice rising an octave. ‘Too right it won’t. For the record I was against you staying on for the summer. You’re lucky that these guys are kinder than I am.’

Seth brightened. ‘We’re good for it then?’ He leaned across the desk and planted a smacker on Frankie’s cheek. ‘You’re an angel.’

Frankie blushed, and then she froze, because someone new had just walked uncertainly into reception.

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