Kat French - The Bed and Breakfast on the Beach - A gorgeous feel-good read from the bestselling author of One Day in December

‘Can he be eighteen with a fit bum?’ Stella slid her key into the Seaview Suite. ‘I’ll do the interviews.’

Frankie was the least ruffled by the climb; her twice-weekly yoga classes at the local centre for the last few years had obviously paid off. Back home, those few hours a week had been a necessary respite from the grind of daily life; they were the only time Frankie could find relief from the crushing weight of being the one who held everything together for everyone else’s life to run smoothly. On the mat she was free and totally present in the moment; more than just the responsible adult whom everyone depended on to ensure that there was loo roll in the bathroom and dinner on the table and clean socks in the drawer. Much as she loved her boys, being finally freed from the routines that had shaped her entire adult life felt as if someone had opened the door of her cage and liberated her from captivity.

‘I might do some yoga on the beach in the morning,’ she said as she opened her door and pushed her case in ahead of her.

‘Really?’ Winnie glanced across from her own threshold.

Frankie nodded, suddenly determined. Back in England yoga had been her escape; here it was one of the few overhangs from her old life that she was happy to bring with her. There wasn’t much else on the keeper list; her mobile to stay in touch with Joshua and Elliott, the small photograph album at the bottom of her suitcase holding a dozen or so of her favourite pictures, and the letter Marcia had left with her solicitor. Her fingers absently touched her wedding ring, suspended on a gold trace chain around her neck. Much as the decision to end their marriage had ultimately been hers, untangling herself mentally from Gav was still a work in progress. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t fond of him; unlike Winnie’s husband he’d never have dreamt of having a torrid affair or intentionally hurting her. It was more that the passing of the years had turned them into friends rather than lovers, and it hurt her romantic heart to not be held at night or made love to as if she was the most beautiful woman in the world. The divorce had hurt them both deeply, and she wasn’t quite ready yet to let go of her ring completely. It had seemed wrong to keep it on her finger afterwards, so moving it to around her neck was sort of an interim step. Maybe she’d go all dramatic and throw it into the depths of the sea like that woman in Titanic . More likely she’d take it off because it reacted with some sun cream or else snap the chain whilst changing one of the beds, but for now she was content to keep it close by.

‘I’m going to go for a swim in my bathtub for half an hour,’ she said. ‘See you downstairs in a while?’

The others nodded.

‘I’m just about ready for my afternoon siesta,’ Stella said. ‘Cocktails on the terrace at sundown?’

Laughing, they stepped inside their rooms, clicked their doors shut softly and returned the villa to its peaceful afternoon slumber.

‘We really need to buy some food.’

Frankie stood staring into the empty fridge.

‘I think there’s some shops on the other side of the beach,’ Winnie said. They’d barely ventured further than the beach on their last flying visit to Skelidos, but from what she could remember the few shops and restaurants strung out on the far side of the sand counted as the centre of the small resort. The island in general was very low-key; it wasn’t on the hen-party radar or likely to appeal to the thrill-seeking crowd. It was left field of the beaten track, and Winnie for one was perfectly happy for it to stay that way.

‘That means that whatever we buy needs to be lugged all the way back across the beach,’ Stella groaned. ‘We’re going to have bigger muscles than Olympic shot-putters after a summer here.’

‘You know what we need?’ Frankie closed the fridge and picked up her purse. ‘A donkey.’

Winnie considered it. ‘God, yes! How charming would it be for our guests if The Fonz brings their luggage across the beach for them! Not to mention that we can use him to carry our shopping.’

‘Can’t we just get a car?’ Stella frowned.

‘Well, we could,’ Frankie said. ‘But where’s the fun in that?’

‘I’m worried people might mistake me for the Virgin Mary if I start riding a donkey around town.’ Stella made the sign of the cross on her chest. ‘They might all fall on their knees and worship me.’

‘I reckon you’re safe.’ Winnie eyed Stella’s legs. ‘I don’t think Mary wore hotpants.’

‘I’ll have you know that these hotpants were bloody expensive. They deserve a little bit more reverence, thank you very much.’ She flicked Winnie a sly look. ‘You can borrow them when you go back to woo the donkey, if you like.’

Choosing to rise above Stella’s obvious grin, Winnie looked around the big, airy kitchen, taking in the facilities.

‘We need food. Milk, sugar and coffee. And water, lots of water.’

‘Eggs. Breakfast pastries,’ Frankie added to the list. ‘And jam.’

‘And a big strapping man to carry it all back for us,’ Stella said, picking up the keys. ‘Come on, ladies. Let’s go and introduce ourselves to the locals.’

‘Two shops, a bar and one restaurant,’ Frankie said. They sat in a line on the low stone wall separating the sand from the beach. ‘It’s not going to rival Kavos any time soon, is it?’

‘Thank God,’ Winnie said, although privately even she had to admit that the resort was several steps beyond quiet.

‘I’m not surprised Ajax needed out,’ Stella said. ‘The bright lights of Athens must have been like beacons out there, attracting all the tourists.’

‘So. This store?’ Winnie looked up at the cherry-red canopies over the tiny local shop. ‘Or that one?’ She nodded a little way along the road to a similarly small place with yellow and white awnings. Each of them seemed to be a catch-all shop; convenience food, beach lilos and cheap sunglasses on stands outside, fridges full of cold drinks. Great for a day on the beach, not so fabulous to stock up your fridge.

‘We really need to find a supermarket,’ Stella said. ‘What I wouldn’t give for my car.’

They all looked up as a guy wondered out of the solitary bar and raised his hand in greeting.

‘Ladies, welcome to Skelidos!’ he said. ‘Gin and tonic?’

‘You’re so speaking our language,’ Stella laughed, jumping to her feet.

‘I’m Stella –’ she stuck her hand out as the guy drew nearer ‘– and this is Frankie, and Winnie. We just bought the B&B over on the other side of the beach. The pink one?’

‘The only one in the town,’ he said, his grin a slash of white teeth against his deeply tanned skin. ‘I’m Panos. We wondered when you’d come.’

‘Well, we’re here now,’ Frankie said and smiled.

He looked from one to the other of them. ‘Come in, come in. I’ll gather people up to come say hi to our newest locals.’

‘Now there’s that Greek charm and neighbourly hospitality we’d hoped for,’ Stella said, laughing and linking her arms through Frankie and Winnie’s as they followed Panos between the Coca-Cola sunbrellas shading the empty tables outside his bar.

‘Island gin?’ he asked, holding up a bottle of nectarine blush liquid as they each took a stool at the pine-topped bar.

They watched as he made theatre of pouring them each a long drink over ice, the tonic fizzing over the ice cubes to create the same rose-pink G&T cocktail they’d drunk so many of with Ajax a few weeks back.

‘Gin’s clear where I come from,’ Stella said, holding her drink up curiously.

Panos nodded. ‘Ah, but this one is special. Ajax used to make it for us.’

‘He did?’