Sandy Barker - One Summer in Santorini

Published by AVON

A Division of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2019

Copyright © Sandy Barker 2019

Cover design © HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2019

Cover illustration © Shutterstock

Sandy Barker asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008354343

Ebook Edition © June 2019 ISBN: 9780008354336

Version: 2019-05-28

For Ben, my very own someone

Table of Contents

Cover

Title page One Summer in Santorini SANDY BARKER

Copyright Published by AVON A Division of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF www.harpercollins.co.uk First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2019 Copyright © Sandy Barker 2019 Cover design © HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2019 Cover illustration © Shutterstock Sandy Barker asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library. This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins. Source ISBN: 9780008354343 Ebook Edition © June 2019 ISBN: 9780008354336 Version: 2019-05-28

Dedication For Ben, my very own someone

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Acknowledgements

About the Author

About the Publisher

I woke suddenly, and even though I was forty thousand feet in the air, I already felt jet-lagged. You know that unique mix of queasiness and exhaustion? That.

I hate long-haul flying. Wait, let me correct that, I hate long-haul flying in economy . Flying across the world when I’ve been upgraded to business class is awesome – I highly recommend it. But this wasn’t one of those times.

I checked my watch. I had slept for five hours – if we’re calling it ‘sleeping’ – more like ‘dozing upright’. Either way, I felt achy and groggy. I yawned a big, ugly yawn, the kind I usually reserved for solitary moments – one of the few benefits of sitting in a cabin full of people I’d never see again.

I stretched my neck from side to side and pushed my palms into my eye sockets. My eyes wanted to be anywhere else, and I didn’t blame them. I dug around in the seat pocket for my eye drops, tipped my head back, and irrigated my eyes with soothing coolness. Resting my head against the seat, I longed for a bed – any bed. I just wanted to lie flat so I could stretch out my stiff muscles. I certainly didn’t want to be cooped up with all those strangers, sitting in a ridiculously uncomfortable seat, breathing that stale, nasty air.

Yup, I’d definitely woken up on the wrong side of the plane.

Still, irritable was better than anxious. For weeks, I’d been fighting mini panic attacks about the trip, and that wasn’t like me. I’d travelled quite a lot and was more than capable of handling whatever catastrophe came my way. In fact, catastrophes had become such a regular part of my travels, I was starting to wonder what I’d done in a past life to piss off the travel gods.

One flight to Melbourne was cancelled outright. A flight out of Chile was delayed for so long I had to sleep on the airport floor. There was a hotel reservation in Florence that disappeared, and while I was arguing with the manager, my iPad was stolen from my bag. Not forgetting the time my whole suitcase somehow vanished between Sydney and Auckland. On the next trip, my new suitcase emerged a mangled mess on the baggage carousel – hello LA and, yes, fellow passengers, those are my knickers, thank you very much. And I barely recovered from a raging case of malaria in Peru. Okay, so it wasn’t actually malaria. It was salmonella, but it still knocked me on my bum for five days when I was supposed to be hiking the Inca Trail.

I looked out the window at the passing clouds. Maybe all the panic was because I hadn’t travelled in more than a year; I’d lost my mojo. Still, I should have been excited. After one night in London, I was flying to Santorini. Yes, the Santorini – of Greek Island fame.

Even though it was only for a night, I was really looking forward to London, as I was seeing my little sis and I’d missed her like crazy. Catherine – Cat – had moved to England years before. Actually, we’d moved there together, but she stayed and I moved back to Australia. We only saw each other in the flesh every couple of years when she came to Sydney or I went to London. I knew she’d ease my worries – real or imagined – with a firm dose of tough love. It was one of the many, many reasons she was my best friend.

The rest of the flight was pretty uneventful. I had a breakfast of rubbery eggs and something that resembled a sausage, washed my face with a moist towelette, and watched three episodes of FRIENDS back to back. Finally back on terra firma , I disembarked and shuffled along the hallways of Heathrow, cleared immigration, and before long, I was waiting at baggage claim for my backpack. I was normally a suitcase kind of a girl, but the brochure had said to pack light. Apparently, there wasn’t much space inside the yacht.

Oh, did I forget to mention that? My trip started in Santorini and then I’d be sailing around the Greek Islands for ten days. Not by myself – I don’t know how to sail. The skipper would be doing the sailing, and there’d be some other people with us, but most importantly there would be me – on a yacht !

As I watched bag after bag pop out of the baggage chute and tumble down onto the carousel, I finally started to feel it, the excitement. There you are, you elusive little minx! It bubbled up inside me, and I had a sort of ‘baggage claim epiphany’. I was going to Santorini! In Greece! And then to a bunch of other Greek Islands!