Claudia's Big Break by Lisa Heidke

spitting out seeds and pointing across the ocean to the tiny island a couple of kilometres away. ‘Looks exhausting.’
    We took the scenic route to Fira, along cobbled pathways and trellised gardens, and watched as every couple of metres another tourist posed to have their photo taken in front of a postcard-perfect blue door framed by whitewashed houses splashed with hot pink bougainvillea. So far, we’d resisted temptation.
    â€˜Hey you,’ said a strong male voice, and I felt someone tap me on the shoulder.
    I swung around.
    â€˜Wow!’ I said. ‘Some coincidence. First Athens and now Santorini.’
    â€˜Small world. Nice sunnies, by the way.’ Jack was minus the Akubra today. Good decision. He had a fine head of thick dark hair and was broader than I remembered. And those forearms! Hooley dooley. Tanned, with shaggy growth on his chin and cheeks, Jack obviously hadn’t shaved since stepping off the plane.
    I’d heard stories about people constantly bumping into the same people on holidays. I guess it really did happen. I mentally gave myself the once-over and was relieved to remember I’d made an effort this morning to brush my hair and clean my teeth.
    Tara coughed and, without a hell of a lot of subtlety, poked me in the back.
    â€˜Jack,’ I said, ‘these are my friends, Tara and Sophie. And that’s Levi over there.’ I pointed to where Levi had wandered to get a better view of the cable cars moving down the cliff.
    â€˜Jack’s the guy I was telling you about, the one I met at the airport and then in Athens,’ I explained to the girls.
    Tara raised her eyebrows. ‘After you tripped into the sunglasses stand?’
    â€˜That’s the one,’ said Jack.
    â€˜The boat, the boat,’ said Levi, tugging at Sophie’s shorts.
    â€˜How about you give me your address so we can meet for a drink?’ Jack suggested.
    I didn’t answer. I was too busy examining his eyebrows . . . then, the whole package. Blushing crimson, I recalled one of my dreams from last night — him whisking me away on a donkey.
    â€˜Great idea,’ said Tara, jotting down our address on an old but clean napkin she pulled from her bag. Totally ignoring my disapproving look, she added, ‘Claud would love that.’
    â€˜Great.’ Jack took the note, folded it, and put it in his shirt pocket. ‘See you soon.’
    We watched as, sandals slapping, he walked in the opposite direction.
    â€˜Spill it,’ said Sophie after Jack was out of earshot and we had started on our way again.
    â€˜What?’
    Tara rolled her eyes. ‘The bronzed Aussie.’
    I shook my head. ‘Nothing to tell.’
    â€˜Nothing my backside,’ replied Sophie. ‘All that hair flicking, it looked like you had fleas.’
    I kept walking, ignoring their pleas for more information. Flicking my hair? As if! I must admit, though, my legs were a bit wobbly. I wasn’t sure if it was because my leg was still hurting from the mishap in Athens, or because I’d just noticed how really good-looking Jack was. On the other hand, I wasn’t used to walking so much, so maybe I needed to exercise more. My lack of fitness was a bit unfortunate as we’d only just started down the six hundred stone steps to reach the small port to catch the excursion boat.
    A stocky man with burly arms and a jaunty Greek sailor’s cap waited at the boat launch and helped us aboard. Sailing away from Santorini, as the ferry rocked and dipped, I gazed back at the red cliffs and imposing granite rocks that seemed to rise vertically from the surface of the deep blue waters of the caldera. On the edge of the cliffs, hanging over the sea, hundreds of white homes, hotels and churches dotted the landscape.
    â€˜I can just see Marcella’s,’ I shouted over the noise of the boat’s engine.
    â€˜And it looks like it’s about to fall into the sea any