The Bed and Breakfast on the Beach: A gorgeous feel-good read from the bestselling author of One Day in December
‘Funny and evocative, refreshing as a G and T – this book is as good as a holiday!’ JANE LINFOOT, author of The Little Wedding Shop by the SeaA gorgeous summer read to escape with this summer!A Greek island solves all life’s problems…doesn’t it?Winnie, Stella and Frankie have been best friends forever.When their lives unexpectedly unravel, they spontaneously decide to buy a gorgeous B&B on a remote Greek island. Drenched in hot sun, Villa Valentina is the perfect escape from reality. But when Winnie meets Jesse, their brooding neighbour, she finds that Greece is full of its own complications – not least how attractive he is…Meanwhile, Frankie and Stella are discovering that Villa Valentina has its own secrets – starting with the large supply of gin in the cellar and the arrival of a famous rock band. A band with one very good-looking member who just might distract Frankie from thoughts of her husband…Smart, sassy and sexy, this summer sizzler is perfect for fans of Lucy Diamond and Jane Costello.
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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2017
Copyright © Kat French 2017
Cover design and lettering: www.emma-rogers.com 2017
Kat French asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record 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.
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Source ISBN: 9780008236755
Ebook Edition © June 2017 ISBN: 9780008236762
Version: 2018-05-02
This book is informed by and written for my beloved life-long best buddies Debbie and Jane.
This isn’t our story, but it is absolutely inspired by our friendship – there’s a little bit of all of each of us in each of them.
I thank my lucky stars for you both.
Cheers to us, ladies, love you! xxx
Table of Contents
Forty-eight hours earlier …
‘It looks like a pink sugar cube.’
Winnie flicked her Havaianas off onto the warm sand and slid her huge sunglasses down her nose to get a better look at Villa Valentina.
‘Well, they weren’t lying when they said it was on the beach,’ Stella murmured, grabbing hold of Winnie’s elbow while she bent double to slip her jewelled flip-flops off the backs of her heels.
Beside them, Frankie dropped her oversized shoulder bag on the sand and lifted the brim of the pink floppy sunhat she’d bought at least a decade ago, inspired by the effortlessly chic Kristin Scott Thomas in Four Weddings.
‘What it looks like to me, ladies, is heaven.’
For a second, all three women stood shoulder to shoulder in contemplative silence. Life had dealt each of them an unexpectedly rough hand over recent months, and this weekend was very much needed to take stock, swear like troopers and sink as much ouzo as Skelidos could supply them with.
‘Do you think it’s too early for a G&T?’
Winnie and Frankie looked at Stella between them in pristine white skinny jeans, her scarlet toe-polish jewel-bright against the pale sand. Her eyes were trained on the faded pink mansion’s deserted terrace beach bar, her hands on her hips as if she meant business.
‘It’s just after nine o’clock in the morning, Stell,’ Winnie said, laughing, the bangles on her wrist jangling as she picked at the frayed hem of her denim shorts.
Stella rolled her eyes. ‘Says the woman who sank a double brandy on the plane four hours ago.’
‘She’s a nervous flyer,’ Frankie soothed, half-hearted in Winnie’s defence.
‘You’re telling me,’ Stella said, flicking her fringe out of her eyes. ‘The poor bugger in the seat the other side of her is probably in A&E now with crushed fingers.’
Winnie wriggled her toes blissfully in the powder-soft sand, wandering forward slowly. ‘Well, if you’d have put your drink down for more than five minutes I’d have been able to hold your hand instead of his. I’m sitting by Frankie on the flight home, she’s more sympathetic.’
Frankie caught Stella’s eye behind Winnie’s back and shook her head frantically. Stella nodded and pointed first at Winnie and then at Frankie: a clear signal that her friend was on her own when it came to keeping Winnie calm on the homebound journey.
Winnie knew what they were up to behind her, of course; she’d known Stella and Frankie for as far back as sentient memory allowed. Born within four weeks of each other a stone’s throw apart on the same street, the three of them had been united by both age and the fact that they were the only girls amongst the rowdy rabble of neighbourhood boys. It was a happy coincidence that they’d turned out to be similar in far more than birthdays; they shared a sharp sense of humour and a strong, abiding loyalty that bound them closer than sisters, albeit all very different in looks and temperament.
‘Is that an actual tattoo, Win?’
Frankie leaned forward to get a closer look at the flowers circling Winnie’s ankle.
