Page 31 of Suzie's Santorini Summer

As it was her first day off since she’d arrived on Santorini over a week ago, Suzie decided to have a lie-in, snoozing on and off as she listened to the various sounds of Oia waking up, and watching the early morning sunshine stream through the slats in the shutters. Once again, her dreams had not been plagued with the upsetting flashbacks she’d endured for over a year, which meant she had slept well and had more energy to face the day without constantly dwelling on the past.

Eventually she dragged herself from the comfort of her sofa bed and headed to the bathroom, luxuriating in a slightly longer shower than she usually took, before pulling on her favourite pair of harem pants and a skimpy bra top and heading to the tiny kitchen nook to make herself a cup of Amber’s peppermint tea, which she seemed to have acquired an unexpected liking for.

She had just set the kettle to boil when she noticed something had been shoved under the door. She padded across the marble floor and stooped to collect a crumpled envelope with her name scribbled across the front in pencil, but before she could investigate the contents there was an urgent pounding on the door.

‘Suzie? Suzie? Are you there?’

She shoved the envelope into the pocket of her cotton trousers and pulled open the door, surprised to see Heidi standing on the doorstep in a pair of stripy shorts and a strappy tee-shirt, her face devoid of her signature glittery makeup, her hair uncombed, her green eyes wide with worry.

‘Heidi? What’s wrong?’

‘It’s Miranda. Will you come with me to the bookshop?’

‘Of course. What’s happened?’

‘I’ll tell you on the way.’

Suzie grabbed her hoodie, slid her feet into her trainers, and when she turned round, she saw that instead of waiting for her, Heidi had already dashed back down the steps to the street. She jogged to catch up with her, weaving around the town’s early risers, which gave her no opportunity to ask what was going on. When they arrived at the bookshop, Heidi paused in the courtyard to inhale a deep breath and square her shoulders, and then pushed open the door. Suzie stepped in behind her, not quite sure what to expect, but it definitely wasn’t the sight that was spread out in front of her.

Instead of the carefully curated books, housed in their respective genres in alphabetical order on neat floor-to-ceiling shelves that hugged every contour of the store, it looked like there had been an explosion of reading material. Everywhere she looked there were books scattered across the floor, their dust jackets wrenched away from their covers, their pages stretched open, their spines broken. It was carnage, like a bibliographic battlefield strewn with casualties, and in complete contrast to the oasis of serenity of the previous evening.

In the midst of all the chaos was Miranda, sitting in a chair behind the cash desk, her head lowered as she wiped away tears with a tiny handkerchief. Her cheeks were pale and the expression on her face utterly distraught.

‘Oh, Miranda, are you okay?’

Heidi rushed forward to embrace her, causing a cascade of crime novels to tumble in her wake like a game of literary Jenga, and Suzie was forced to pick her way across the floor at a more cautious pace so as to not add a torrent of sci-fi books into the mix. She was desperate to know what had happened, but supporting Miranda was her first priority, and when she was finally able to offer her a hug, she wasn’t surprised to find she was shaking.

‘I’ll get you a glass of water,’ Suzie offered.

‘No! Don’t go into the bathroom!’ Miranda nearly shouted.

‘What? Why not?’

To Suzie’s consternation Miranda started to cry again, this time huge racking sobs. She exchanged an anxious glance with Heidi over the top of Miranda’s head, then mimed “I’ll take a look”, thrusting her thumb in the direction of the door that led to the bookshop’s restrooms and ignoring the uncomfortable swirl of trepidation that had started to coil through her chest as she contemplated what she might find in there.

Fortunately, the area to the left of the cash desk had escaped the “book tornado” relatively unscathed, and she was able to navigate the short distance without too much difficulty. She turned the brass handle and tentatively pushed open the restroom door, relieved to find there were no wild animals lurking in the cubicles, ready to launch an attack on the next person to use the facilities. She took a step inside, noting the gleaming white marble floor, the impressive chandelier that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the Palace of Versailles, and the pretty pot plant on the unit next to the dual sinks.

And then she saw it.

‘Oh my God!’

She stared at the mirror, her heart pounding out a symphony of shock until she realised that the words scrawled across its surface weren’t written in blood as she had initially thought, but in bright red lipstick, and the famous Shakesperean quote“Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo”had been embellished with copious drawings of hearts and… what looked like kisses made with real lips.

Ergh!

No wonder Miranda was so upset.

She quickly headed out of the bathroom, closing the door behind her, and hanging an “Out of Use” sign, which she found on a stack of John Grisham novels, on the handle to prevent anyone else from entering and finding the disturbing image.

As she made her way back to where Miranda, under the gentle ministrations of Heidi, was looking a little less distressed, her eyes snagged on the linen-bedecked table Heidi had used as her makeshift cocktail-shaking bar the previous night, still playing host to a selection of spirits, and she made a quick detour to pour Miranda a small brandy.

‘Here, drink this.’

Miranda took a sip, the colour returning to her cheeks almost immediately.

‘Thanks, Suzie.’

‘Can you tell us what happened?’

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