Page 73 of Suzie's Santorini Summer

Nathan sank back into his chair and expelled a long breath, his hand shaking as he ran his fingers through his thick sandy hair while Heidi continued to stare at him, her eyes narrowed, her jaw tight, clearly determined not to let him off lightly. After a few seconds of thought, he grabbed one of the bottles of beer the waiter had left on the table, took a long gulp, and when he started to speak, his voice was low, clear, and measured.

‘Two years ago, I thought I had the best life. I had a great apartment, a bunch of friends I’d known since school, a silver Audi Coupe I’d coveted for years, and a fulfilling career as an investigative journalist for a local TV news programme. I loved what I did; it was a dream job that I’d worked hard for, and without wanting to sound boastful, it turned out I was good at it, too. Over the five years I was there, I chased down some important stories; uncovering the identity of serious fraudsters, thieves who stole a disabled kid’s specially adapted wheelchair, yobs who had broken into a food bank and caused mayhem just for the kicks.

‘Then, last summer, there was what the management euphemistically called a “business reorganisation”, and I, along with a couple of my colleagues, were made redundant. Just like that. I was devastated. I thought I’d get another job, but it proved difficult, and a few months later I was climbing the walls with boredom, so I booked a cheap weekend away in Prague and decided to vlog about it, giving tips, tricks, and hacks on how to travel, pack, and sightsee smartly, and posted it on my YouTube channel. To my astonishment, I got lots of subscribers after just one video, so, the following month I booked another trip, this time to Madrid, and things just snowballed from there.’

The waiter arrived with a tray of replacement beers and handed them round, together with a few plates of the taverna’s mezze, but while the beer was gratefully received, no one touched the food, everyone waiting for Nathan to continue with his explanation.

‘Doing the vlog was lots of fun, but then the numbers started to fall, and so I searched around for something different, something that would give me an edge on all the other travel vloggers out there who were doing similar things. I had no idea what that would be until I took a weekend trip to Capri. While I was filming all the expensive yachts moored in the marina there, I inadvertently caught on camera a young couple having dinner at a restaurant overlooking the harbour when a one-legged pigeon landed on their table and started pecking at their food. It was comedy gold! But the best bit was that it turned out the couple were none other than Chrystal Carlson and her new boyfriend, Brett Harper. The vlog went viral.’

‘Oh, yes, I saw that one!’ said Heidi, her lips twitching as she tried not to laugh. ‘I loved how Brett shot up from his chair and tried to hide behind Chrystal like he was frightened of that pigeon. I mean, he played a gladiator in his last movie!’

‘There’s nothing wrong with maintaining a respectful wariness of the avian population,’ Christos mumbled.

‘I knew I’d found my new angle, but, of course, it’s difficult to replicate those sorts of incidents on a weekly or even a monthly basis. So, against my better judgement, I… well, I started to give them a bit of a nudge.’

‘Staging them, you mean?’ said Suzie.

‘I suppose you could say that.’

‘Without any concern for the effect it would have on the people involved?’

‘As I said, it was never what I set out to do. However, the views started to increase again, as did the number of subscribers, so I just kept on doing it, trying ever more convoluted escapades. Some worked, others didn’t. It wasn’t until I heard what that Eddie guy from the PR agency did to you, Suzie, that I realised I was no different from them. As a serious journalist who used to work hard to bring down scammers and money-laundering gangs – people who did truly nasty stuff – I’d always loathed the paparazzi and their scant regard for privacy and the truth, but here I was, even worse than them, just a sad, pathetic prankster.

‘Anyway, I’ve taken the vlogs down, all of them. I’ve booked a flight back to the UK at the end of the week, and I’ll start looking for another job, if not in TV, then I might go freelance. It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while. There are a lot of stories out there that need to be told, and one of the things I’m really good at is pulling at a loose thread and following wherever it leads me, then forensically examining the results, which nine times out of ten are about money or relationships, or both. I want to tell stories that really matter to people, not post juvenile videos on the internet that upset or embarrass those in them.’

Nathan paused to finish his beer in one long draught. This time, when he combed his fingers through his hair, his hand was steady, and he finally found the courage to meet Heidi’s eyes.

‘Believe me, Heidi, you are the last person I wanted to hurt.’ Nathan pushed back his chair and stood up, looking from Christos to Suzie and back again. ‘Am I free to go?’

‘Actually, no, you’re not free to go just yet,’ said Suzie.

Chapter Twenty Seven

While Nathan had been talking, the kernel of an idea had sparked in her brain and continued to flourish until he’d reached the end of his soliloquy with a heartfelt apology. Old Suzie would have tossed the idea aside as reckless, outrageous even, but New Suzie was bouncing up and down telling her that this was her opportunity to be brave, to speak up and prove to herself that she’d changed.

It could make things worse, a lot worse.

But it could also make things better.

And what had skulking in the shadows done for her so far?

Before she arrived on Santorini, her life had been filled with apprehension, anxiety, and fear, forcing her to avoid places and situations where she might encounter crowds – or strangers who could have become cherished friends. It was time to do things differently, and that meant tearing away the mask of anonymity and asking for help from someone who could actually make a difference as she began her journey towards a hopefully happier future.

Still, it was a huge risk.

Nathan was a journalist, and until that evening they had been the enemy; individuals who had destroyed her life for the sake of a few more views, a few more clicks, a few more subscribers, and judging by his recent behaviour, Nathan was no different. And yet, maybe she could turn his desire for success to her advantage for once and ask him to consider approaching his next journalistic adventure from a new angle, even if it meant poking her head above the parapet and risking adverse exposure.

After all, life was full of risks, risks that often led to discoveries that changed the world.

She glanced at Nathan and saw that he was staring at her, his eyes filled with curiosity, and she knew then that she had to tell him her story. If her decision blew up in her face, she knew that Christos, Katerina, and Giorgos – the people in Santorini who knew what had happened – would be there to help her pick up the pieces, which gave her the spurt of courage she needed to continue.

Asking for help was hard to do, but the potential rewards were great.

‘You said you were considering going freelance?’

‘Yes, it’ll take some time to establish myself in the field of investigative journalism again, and I might have to deal with some ribbing from former colleagues if they find out I was behind theHolsHackervlog, but, as they say, that’s karma. I still have some professional contacts from when I worked at the TV studio who will help me find my feet, but what I really need is something I can get my teeth into to reignite my passion for ferreting out the truth.’

This was it, the invitation she needed.

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