Dastardly Deeds (9 page)

I nodded, unwilling to commit to words.

‘And I know nothing’s really changed, back in the real world, in terms of
us
. But this isn’t the real world. So let’s have a shipboard fling.’

I blinked. The last sentence had been delivered in a rush, without sufficient foreplay, so to speak. I tried to unpack it.

‘It could be our break-up sex,’ he continued hurriedly. ‘Just extended. Making a remarkable holiday even more remarkable. No one on board need even know. Then we go back to our separate lives, if that’s what you want. No commitment.’

I straightened the jacket on my shoulders to buy time. He was watching me expectantly. I cleared my throat. ‘Ah, just out of curiosity, where would you expect all this flinging to take place? A lifeboat?’

‘We can work out the logistics later.’ His grin was back, as if relieved I hadn’t dismissed the notion immediately.

‘If your logistics include me paying some clandestine visit to your cabin after you’ve arranged for your cousin to absent himself for a few minutes, you have rocks in your head. That’s just creepy.’

‘A
few
minutes? I’m insulted!’

‘Not happening.’

He leant back, the grin crinkling up the corners of his eyes. ‘You’re tempted.’

‘And I didn’t stand you up last night either. I sent a message via Quinn.’

‘Yeah, thanks for that. There I was, sitting here in all my finery, having told the waiter I was waiting for a date, when a teenager plonks herself at my table. The waiter did
not
approve. I think he spat in my scotch.’

I smiled, imagining the scene. Then I turned my attention to the proposition. I couldn’t believe I was giving this serious consideration, but it
was
tempting. I liked Ashley, always had, and it was true that we had ended quite abruptly, without sufficient closure. And it wasn’t like it would be awkward when we returned home, as he didn’t even live in Majic. I had barely seen him since we broke up. There was also something quite appealing about having a covert relationship without anyone even realising. Finding places on the ship where we could be alone, glances that would linger during the day tours, a surreptitious hand on the knee under the restaurant table. Plus a shipboard romance was a bit of a bucket list item.

Then I shook my head imperceptibly. I was forty-eight years old and this was ridiculous. There were
always
complications. But straight on the heels of this rational thinking came an image of Kim Satchwell, face down on the bluff overlooking Gallipoli Cove. Life was short. I settled my gaze on Ashley before I could change my mind again.

‘Okay. I’m in.’

The consummation of our fling had to be put on hold until the logistics were conquered. For such a large ship, there were relatively few places where privacy was guaranteed for around seven minutes. More if one wanted a cuddle afterwards. And I did. But I also wasn’t in a particular hurry for the problems to be overcome; as always the anticipation was a large part of the appeal. We had enjoyed a lovely evening after the meal, catching a theatre show and then indulging in some retro disco dancing, where we met up with a few of the others. They even played ‘Nutbush City Limits’, but Lyn Russo was not there to enjoy it.

Morning found us trooping back out to the bus. It was an overcast day, with smudgy grey clouds blotting out any hint of the sun. The second Ali was already in position, with his clipboard and a ready smile. The Russos were there also, for the last day that they would be spending with us. There was plenty of room aboard, with Deb et al. on a separate tour and Tessa apparently unwell. I noticed that the Russos, Mr and Mrs, sat in separate seats. So did Quinn and Griffin, indicating that there was trouble in teenage paradise once more. I exchanged a glance with Ashley as he joined his cousin, holding it for just a split second longer than normal. It was delicious.

‘You’re not fooling anyone,’ said Petra, as I slid into the seat beside her.

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

‘You’re such a bad liar.’

‘What’s Mum lying about now?’ asked Ruby, leaning across the aisle.

I frowned. ‘What do you mean
now
?’

‘Can I have your attention, please?’ called Ali as the bus jerked forward. He grabbed on to the bar behind the driver’s seat. ‘So today another adventure! First we will visit the majestic Hagia Sophia after which we shall stroll around to the Topkapi Palace.’

‘Excellent,’ said Lew from down the back. ‘Love a good stroll.’

Enid snorted. ‘Good. Then I’ll take your wheelchair.’

‘Because the bus is not allowed in those areas,’ continued Ali blithely. ‘And then after lunch we shall stroll again down to the Grand Bazaar, where you shall be immersed in a shopper’s paradise! So many stalls! Just beware of pickpockets and also avoid the street sellers, who can be quite insistent.’

I tuned out and watched the scenery instead. The roads were narrow and quite winding, with buildings crowding the pavements. We parked by the Blue Mosque, which we had toured yesterday, and made our way to a square that had two ancient statues embedded into the concrete. Oddly, there was also an Egyptian obelisk. Ali immediately launched into an explanation of the various edifices while photos were taken. Quinn was sticking close to her sister and shooting the occasional glare towards Griffin Russo. His mother, usually quite attuned to anything concerning her son, seemed to be a little under the weather. She was concentrating on Ali fixedly but I suspected that, beneath her large sunglasses, her eyes were probably closed.

After about half an hour we continued to Hagia Sophia, a medieval Christian church that was astoundingly, gobsmackingly impressive. Soaring ceilings, crumbling mosaics, a spiral ramp that curved steeply towards an upper floor that sloped from the weight of years and hundreds of thousands of feet. History humbled here. Religion was immaterial.

From there we walked, and wheeled, to the Topkapi Palace, which I didn’t find nearly as impressive. While the buildings were nice, they paled in comparison to Hagia Sophia. In addition, much of the time was spent in a line waiting to see some jewels that sparkled quite pleasantly but didn’t really merit the wait. Another half an hour was spent sitting on a bench waiting for Ali to reappear. I was glad of my hat as the clouds had finally dispersed enough to release a mild sunshine that was surprisingly glary. The only thing of real interest was a mobile call that Ashley received, which he took off to the side. Halfway through the conversation he gave a thumbs-up to his cousin, who promptly joined him. They huddled over the phone for a while and then, when the call was finished, continued in deep discussion. Lew wheeled over and gave them each a high-five.

I swallowed my curiosity and attempted to look uninterested. Unfortunately, with Darcy and Michael Russo engrossed in a discussion about boutique beer, Lyn frozen behind her sunglasses, Quinn and Ruby studiously ignoring Griffin, who was studiously avoiding them, Yen complaining to Uncle Jim about the delay with lunch, Petra busy sending messages on her own phone and Enid napping right beside me, there wasn’t a great deal of other distraction.

It was with some relief that I saw Ali approaching. He appeared even more jovial than usual and I suspected he had spent the intervening hour drinking more than coffee. I wondered if he had a hip flask hidden somewhere he might be willing to share. Or sell. He rounded everybody up and soon had us moving once more, this time towards a cafe that he guaranteed was the best in all of Istanbul. Fortunately, it wasn’t far. Unfortunately, it was very popular.

I joined the end of a long line snaking towards the counter. Ashley and his cousin seemed to have vanished, along with Lew, so any chance of eavesdropping was put on hold. The cafe wall held an array of photos of the meals on offer, all of which appeared to be westernised.

‘Do you think this is a good idea?’ asked Yen, slipping in front of Uncle Jim.

‘It
looks
okay,’ I replied dubiously, my eyes on the photos.

‘Not the food, you fool. That detective.’

I turned to look at her. ‘First, don’t call me a fool. Second, what are you talking about?’

‘Ashley Armistead. I don’t think it’s a good idea to revisit it.’

‘Then don’t.’ I moved along the line. ‘Besides, I’m not sure Uncle Jim would be at all happy with that.’

He took his glasses off to polish them. ‘True. Might show me up.’

‘Is that necessary?’ Yen cast a quelling glance in his direction before refocusing on me. ‘You need to ask yourself whether anything has changed.’

‘I ask myself that all the time. In a general sense.’

‘Humph.’

Quinn materialised by my elbow. ‘Mum, can you get me some chips?’

‘Sure.’ I angled my back towards Yen. ‘What’s up with you and Griffin?’

‘He’s a tool. And some nuggets, please. With sauce. And a kebab.’

Yen took a step to the side. ‘Why cost your mother a fortune? Just get a sandwich and wait till you get back to the ship. It’s all free there.’

‘But I’m hungry now.’

‘It’s okay.’ I moved along and found myself at the counter. It was a little like a conveyer belt, with an attendant behind each service area. I ordered Quinn’s food and a burger for myself, then moved over to a table where Michael and Griffin Russo, Darcy and Enid were already ensconced.

Enid nudged me. ‘Good choice,’ she hissed.

‘Pardon?’

‘That Ashley bloke. Easy on the eye and with a good sense of humour. Nice. Let me know if you’re not interested and I might have a crack myself.’

I looked at her blankly. She winked. Was there anyone who didn’t know about Ashley and me? It was a good thing I had never been tempted to have a surreptitious affair while I was married, as clearly secrecy wasn’t my forte. I bit into my burger. The mayonnaise had a distinct bite. Ruby joined us, along with her grandmother and Uncle Jim. They had brought a sandwich for Enid. The conversation turned to the merits of Hagia Sophia. Finally, Petra slid into the spare seat beside me.

‘Where have you been?’ I asked, a little petulantly.

‘Just talking to Ruby outside,’ she said, then went on hurriedly, ‘about nothing much. What have I missed?’

‘Nothing.’

Petra surveyed our company, her gaze coming to a rest on Michael Russo. ‘Did you know your wife’s sitting by herself outside on a bench?’

‘Yeah. She wasn’t hungry.’ He laughed. ‘Had a bit too much last night. Never could handle her grog.’

Both Petra and I stared at him for a moment. I felt sure we were thinking the same thing, which was overlaid by sympathy for Lyn.

‘Dickhead,’ mumbled Enid around her sandwich.

‘How wonderful that she doesn’t need your support,’ said Yen blithely. ‘Which allows you to sit here in comfort, having your lunch. And have I mentioned how much your son looks like you?’ She shot a glance at Quinn. ‘You could almost say he’s a chip off the old block.’

‘Yeah,’ agreed Michael Russo, visibly chuffed. ‘All three of them take after me. Did I tell you Jackson’s joined the army? Finished his rookies last month. Very proud.’

‘Army
Reserves
,’ said Griffin, glaring at his food. ‘Not quite the same.’

His father waved a hand, dismissing the comment. ‘Just about. You could do worse than follow in his footsteps. Except—’ he glanced disparagingly at the tuft of hair sticking from the crown of Griffin’s head ‘—you’d have to get rid of that. Makes you look like a pansy.’

I pushed my chair back. ‘You’re a pig.’

‘What?’

‘I’m getting coffee,’ I said, moving away from the table. I wasn’t keen on Griffin’s man-bun either, but Michael was seriously beginning to get on my nerves. Nor was I that fond of Jackson Russo, who had dated my daughter Red some years ago. He was a young man full of bluff and bravado, but without the insight to realise his own limitations. He really was a chip off the old block.

The crowd at the counter had now thinned. Quinn and Griffin passed as I was waiting to order, the latter pausing just long enough to give me a grin. This was a surprise given he usually wasn’t much of a one for eye contact. I ordered my coffee quickly and took it outside. Lyn was still on the bench, and although she was upright, I thought she might be asleep.

The others soon began to straggle outside, Michael Russo giving me a suspicious look. Ali appeared from a small pub next door, looking a little flushed. He was followed by Ashley, Nick and Lew, also looking distinctly pink-cheeked. I felt annoyed. If I had known that a pub meal was on offer, I would never have settled for a burger. Particularly as the mayonnaise had coated my throat with what tasted like insect repellent.

Ali brandished his T
AYLOR
G
ROUP
sign and as Michael woke his wife, we all set off up the road towards the Grand Bazaar. I had been very much looking forward to this experience and it didn’t disappoint. The place was huge. Identical paved alleys branching off each other, with identical archways and identical drinking fountains in the centre of each junction. Even the shops looked much the same. Mile after mile of bags, jewellery, stained glass, clothing and a staggering variety of Turkish delight. The locals were easily distinguishable by the knowing way they strode along, while the tourists were marked by their expressions of awe.

Petra, Ruby, Quinn and I spent two and a half hours covering only a small segment of what was on offer. We were nervous about venturing too far, lest we become lost in the labyrinth. The place seemed so ancient and mystical that I could even imagine a Minotaur poised in the middle, waiting patiently for his annual sacrificial offering of young maidens. You would think, given the whole virginity prerequisite, that I would be safe, but I wasn’t about to take any chances.
Minotaur apologises for devouring middle-aged woman. ‘I was on a roll,’ he said. ‘My bad.’

Petra was appointed our official barterer as she was able to clear her face of any hint of desire for the object in question. This was a definite bonus. By the time we exited into the bright sunshine, we were delighted with our success and our bags and arms were loaded with purchases. The bazaar itself was encircled by another lane of shops, these ones more haphazard. Beyond the piles of goods were the mosque steps where we had arranged to meet. I could already see that we were the last ones back and even Deb and her group were there, chatting with the others. Nobody seemed in a particular hurry, though, and in fact most were busily bargaining with a young guy who had set up a cardboard display of sunglasses.

He had finished his last transaction as we approached and was about to flip his display closed when he caught sight of us. His face lit up.

‘Sunglasses? Best price, best style! Gucci! Versakki! Dolchi!’

‘Actually, yes,’ said Petra, moving over. Ruby and Quinn both joined her, picking over the glasses and trying them on. I knew they had to be copies, but they were also quite nice. And it was very sunny. Perhaps, also, I could be a little more secretive behind a pair of large sunglasses.

I tried on a few while Petra negotiated a discount for four pairs. We piled our choices to one side and I passed my shopping bags to Ruby as I pulled out my wallet. ‘I’ll pay for them together. We can work it out later.’

Ali was waving his placard as I shovelled the change back into my wallet. Then something caught my eye. I slowly pulled out the ten lira note again and held it up with disbelief. The name
Clint
was scribbled clearly on the margin, alongside a phone number. I stared it, knowing instantly where I had seen it last.

The ramifications crowded my mind, rendering them all but intelligible. Then I pushed my wallet back into my bag and took off after the sunglasses seller, the ten lira note still in my hand. I could hear some surprised calls behind me but I ignored them. I darted into the laneway and gazed either way before hurrying into the bazaar itself. I had only reached the first junction before I realised that I had made the wrong decision. The sunglasses seller, with his flip-out cardboard display, would be far more likely to hawk his wares around the periphery. I ducked to my right and then right again so that I exited back into the laneway a little farther down. My hat was knocked off and I put out a hand but nearly got flattened by a large Turkish man who smelt strongly of herbal smoke. The seller was still nowhere in sight so I took a punt and turned left, pushing my way through the crowd.