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Six Pack of Sleuths: Comedy Mysteries

Page 44

by Barbara Silkstone


  An explosion of pulses swept through my body like a tsunami. I gripped his buttocks, pulling him closer, licking, tasting, stroking.

  He plunged his hands in my hair. ‘Maybe we should get out.’ His voice was throaty as he suddenly drew back, cupping my face in his hands.

  His eyes were intense and dark, like coal shimmering in the moonlight. He nodded towards the towel on the beach.

  Well, I didn’t need asking twice.

  We hurriedly slipped from the sea, our bodies shiny and wet with salt. Lying down on the towel, entangled in each other’s limbs, I was aware of only the heat from his body against mine as we moved to the rhythm of the tide.

  Later, as we lay facing each other, his fingertips tracing a line up and down my hip, and mine gently stroking his thigh, I heard a noise a little further up the beach. It sounded like something was moving along the sand.

  I turned my head to get a better look and saw the most amazing thing. Clutching Kalem’s arm, I pointed in the direction of the noise.

  A turtle dragged itself over the bumpy mounds of sand, etching a trail along the beach. It looked huge, probably a metre long. In the moonlight you could see a greenish tinge to its mottled shell.

  ‘It’s a green turtle,’ Kalem whispered to me. ‘She’s come up to nest on the beach. We need to be really quiet until she starts to lay her eggs. Otherwise we’ll disturb her.’

  ‘She’s gorgeous.’ I stared at her, slack-jawed in amazement, knowing I was about to watch something that I’d only ever seen on TV before. How cool was this? To watch a turtle laying its eggs a short distance away. Wow.

  We dressed silently as she wandered up the beach for a while, then seemed to think better of it and changed her mind, coming closer towards us again.

  ‘They go into a trance when they lay their eggs, and we’ll be able to get right up close to watch it.’ Kalem grinned at me. ‘I thought nothing could be as fantastic as making love on a deserted starlit beach, but this is just amazing.’

  After a few more trails up and down the beach, the majestic beauty seemed to decide on the right spot and started digging. Her flippers dug slowly, flicking the sand away from her body with force, so that it flew in the air and landed way behind her. She carried on for what seemed like an hour, stopping now and then for a rest. Dig, dig. Stop. Breathe. Dig, dig. She carried on until the hole was a deep bowl shape. And finally, when she seemed satisfied, she stopped, face turned up to the sky.

  Kalem grabbed my hand, and we padded silently towards her. I held my breath, just in case she could hear me. She didn’t seem to notice us as she started to lay large clumps of eggs into the nest, plopping into the cavity at speed.

  We stared on in awe, not daring to move a muscle. It was the most spectacular thing I’d ever seen.

  ‘When will they hatch?’ I whispered.

  ‘In about two months. They have a Turtle Project here every summer to aid conservation. Students from all over the world come and scour the beaches during the laying season so they can put protective covers over the nests once they’ve laid their eggs. It stops wild dogs and other creatures digging them up and ensures the maximum number of baby turtles hatch.’

  When she finally finished, she had the mammoth task of refilling the nest chamber with sand. The poor thing looked exhausted. The muscles in the back of my neck started to ache as we stood for probably another hour, watching her cover up the nest.

  Then she slowly lumbered back towards the sea and slipped into the moonlit water, her job done.

  ‘That was absolutely unbelievable.’ My smile felt like it stretched from ear to ear.

  Kalem looked deep into my eyes. ‘It was magical. You see, this is what I’ve been trying to tell you. This is exactly what the simple life is all about. Getting to experience nature and life in a way that we can’t in the UK. God, Helen, I really want to stay here. I know my dream job has disappeared, but this is priceless. Sitting on a star-packed beach, just us; watching the stars with a bottle of wine, making love on the sand, and seeing a turtle lay her eggs. We’re so lucky to be here. To be experiencing this. I don’t care if I’ve got to take a less exciting job, we’re going to stay.’ He picked me up and spun me around.

  Chapter 10

  To say that things were not exactly going too well at this point would be a slight understatement. To be more precise, in spite of the spectacular evening on the beach, I’d had a stressed out, stomach-churning, shit-heap few days.

  I wasn’t exactly looking forward to having our container arrive at Yasmin and Deniz’s house either. Partly because I wanted to get on with Operation Find Ferret Face. Now we had some kind of a plan to find him, I wanted to hurry up and get on with it. Also, partly because having all of our possessions arrive meant that we would definitely have to stay here. And the hard thing was that I really didn’t know whether I could stay here after all that had happened so far. Never mind the fact that I would hardly ever see Ayshe again, the lack of shopping, and the crazy extended family who had a sniffer sheep as a pet, our arrival here had been tainted and cursed since the very beginning. And that, like some kind of domino effect, seemed to be spiralling my doubts about living the simple life here out of control. But Kalem so badly wanted to stay, that I couldn’t tell him how I was feeling, could I? No, it wouldn’t be fair to him. Yet with the container arriving, it felt like some sort of finality, and it looked like moving abroad was beginning to be the worst mistake of my life. I’d also now developed some sort of peculiar phobia about customs men, and guess who was accompanying the container to fill out all the paperwork?

  I felt horribly sick and overwhelmingly depressed. This was supposed to be the most important week of my life, but all I wanted to do was curl up under the sheets and never come out again.

  The only spot of good news in all of it, I supposed, was that at least all my other clothes and shoes would arrive in the container, since I was rapidly running out of things to wear.

  ‘We’d better go and see your mum and dad.’ I forked in my last mouthful of breakfast in the dining room and pushed away my plate. ‘See if they’re getting over the food poisoning yet.’

  Kalem nodded.

  Ayshe blew on a cup of steaming herbal tea. ‘Not only is Dad obsessed with the condoms, he’s now really into Cosmopolitan magazine. So be warned.’

  ‘What’s wrong with that? I love Cosmo.’ Charlie dabbed at his lips with a napkin.

  ‘Yes, but you’re not normal.’ I chuckled.

  ‘Where’s Atila gone?’ I asked Ayshe.

  ‘He’s another one that’s acting strange. He was having a really weird dream last night, mumbling something about place settings and illuminated menus. And he keeps getting calls at all hours from the manager of his restaurant in London. Maybe the manager can’t cope without Atila there to sort things out.’ She shrugged. ‘I don’t know, but something strange is going on. I’m sure of it.’

  ‘Well, maybe he’s just worried about leaving it,’ I said. ‘This is the first time he’s actually left control of it to a manager, isn’t it? He’s bound to be a bit worried. You know what a stressy perfectionist he is in the kitchen.’ I thought about how Gordon Ramsayish he gets in the kitchen, barking out sweary orders to his staff, which was a complete contrast to his normal, laid-back self.

  ‘Yes, but he whispers down the phone like something top secret is going on. Maybe it is the heat, it’s certainly having an effect on me.’ She fanned at her flushed face with a napkin. ‘Ah! Maybe he’s having an affair.’ She stopped fanning abruptly. ‘Do you think that’s it? Maybe it’s not the restaurant manager phoning him at all. Maybe it’s his bit on the side!’

  I stood up and enveloped her in a hug. ‘Of course not. That’s just ridiculous. He loves you to bits. No.’ I shook my head firmly. ‘There is absolutely no way he’s having an affair.’

  She patted my arm. ‘No, you’re right, of course, he wouldn’t be having an affair. My brain has just turned to pregnant mush, thinking all these stupid
things. Just forget I said that.’

  ‘Forgotten.’ I smiled at her. ‘Charlie, are you still willing to go to the Plaza and try and find Ferret Face until we get back from sorting out the container?’

  ‘Absolutely. I always wanted to be a private dick!’

  ‘If you find him, just keep an eye on him and ring me. This is what he looks like.’ I handed him my camera with the picture of Ferret Face safely stored on it. ‘OK, let’s go and see Yasmin and Deniz.’

  ****

  When we arrived at their door, there was another note addressed to the maid. Kalem snatched it up.

  ‘Oh God, I dread to think what is says.’ I rolled my eyes.

  Kalem read it out loud. ‘“Dear Maid, please don’t leave the cheese and pickle condoms anymore, they leave an unpleasant after taste. The spicy ones are a little too spicy. Are they vindaloo, by any chance? Do you have any korma to madras spiciness varieties? If so, please leave ten. If not, I will make do with ten mild ones, but only under duress.”’ Kalem’s eyes nearly popped out. ‘What the hell are they doing? They’ll kill themselves.’ He banged on the door.

  Yasmin opened it, looking terrible. The air conditioning was set to the highest temperature possible – sun-baked desert. Deniz had the covers pulled up to his chin with his nose buried in Cosmopolitan.

  Yasmin climbed back into bed like it was a huge effort.

  ‘God, it’s boiling in here.’ I wafted a hand around in front of me to fan the air.

  ‘I’m freezing.’ Yasmin shivered, her teeth chattering.

  ‘Me too.’ Deniz peered over the magazine at us. ‘Have you brought me any condoms? I’ve got through eight packets from the mini-bar now.’

  ‘I don’t think you’re in any fit state to be thinking about condoms,’ I chided. ‘You need to conserve all your energy for getting well.’

  ‘I told you – he’s obsessed.’ Yasmin tutted. ‘He thinks the maid fancies him now.

  ‘She does!’ Deniz put the Cosmopolitan down.

  ‘She’s about seventeen. Why would she fancy a seventy-year-old, wrinkly little man?’ Yasmin snorted at him.

  Deniz ignored her. ‘She wants me.’ He tapped the side of his nose. ‘I can tell when a woman wants me.’

  ‘Have you seen the maid?’ I asked. ‘I didn’t think they’d come in if you had a Do not disturb sign on the door.’

  ‘Of course he hasn’t seen her. He keeps writing her notes about the mini-bar, though, and leaving them outside.’ Yasmin sighed.

  ‘The maid thinks I’m virile,’ Deniz said.

  ‘Oh, no, I feel sick again,’ Yasmin said.

  So did I, just thinking about it.

  ‘How are you both, then? Any better?’ Kalem asked, trying to change the subject.

  ‘Worse.’ Deniz said.

  Yasmin rested her palm on her forehead. ‘And my back’s killing me.’

  I wasn’t surprised if he’d put away eight packets of condoms.

  ‘Still, at least Mr Seventy-year-old wrinkly man is keeping himself busy with magazines and not annoying me too much.’

  Deniz looked at the magazine, shaking his head to himself. ‘It’s fascinating the things in here. Fascinating. Did you know that there was so much choice with a fu fu?’

  Kalem and I all looked at each other, horrified about where this was all going to end up.

  ‘What’s a fu fu?’ Yasmin said.

  ‘You know – a woman’s lady garden.’ Deniz pointed to the magazine. ‘You can have the Playboy Strip, the Landing Strip, the Moustache – that one doesn’t sound very nice – the Triangle, the Brazilian, the Arrow. Wait until I get on to the next article: The Secret Diary of a Talking Penis (Age 35).

  ****

  Kalem stood in the centre of Deniz and Yasmin’s bungalow, head tilted, wondering where to put our container full of stuff. ‘I’m going to move the furniture around so we’ve got room for all the boxes and extra furniture when it gets here.’

  ‘Do you want a hand?’ I asked.

  ‘No, you and Ayshe spend some time together and relax. It hasn’t exactly been the ideal pre-wedding couple of days we had in mind, and there’s not much else you can do until the container gets here anyway.’

  ‘That sounds good to me.’ I grabbed a couple of cushions for the sunbeds, and Ayshe and I positioned ourselves on the terrace for maximum tanning exposure.

  ‘What a crazy couple of days,’ Ayshe sighed.

  ‘You’re telling me.’ I tilted my face to the sun and closed my eyes. ‘Crazy and scary. This is more like it, though. I could get used to this. God, I hope Charlie manages to find Ferret Face.’

  ‘And what about the wedding dress? Has Charlie found a replacement?’

  ‘No,’ I groaned and opened my eyes. ‘I don’t want a replacement. I want my one.’

  ‘Of course!’ Ayshe slapped her head. ‘It’s got your nan’s charm sewn into it. Oh no! Helen, I forgot.’

  ‘I know. I have to have that charm at my wedding. Apart from the fact that it will feel like some part of Nan is there with me, I’ve got this horrible feeling that if I don’t get it back, our wedding will be doomed to bad luck from the start. Everything isn’t going particularly well now, and we haven’t even got married yet.’

  She reached over and squeezed my hand. ‘I’m sure everything will work out OK.’

  But I wasn’t so sure. ‘And if I don’t get it back, how can I get married in Osman’s mum’s dress? It’s hideous.’

  ‘I know, but she’ll be offended if you don’t wear it.’

  ‘I’ll just have to think up some excuse. I don’t want to offend her, but it’s the most important day of my life. I wanted it to be perfect,’ I groaned.

  ‘Have you got any dresses in the container that you could use as a wedding dress?’

  I thought about my vast shopaholic wardrobe. ‘OK, maybe there is something I could probably wear, but that isn’t the point. I want my perfect dress.’ I flapped a hand in the air. ‘Anyway, I don’t want to think about this for five minutes. I’m sick of thinking about gun-wielding maniacs and yucky statues. Say something to take my mind off it.’

  Ayshe sank back in the cushions. ‘OK. Barack Obama, David Cameron, and Nelson Mandela. Who would you marry, sleep with, or throw off a cliff?’

  ‘Ooh, that’s an easy one. I’d marry Nelson, sleep with Barack, and throw David off a cliff.’ I giggled. ‘Your turn. Superman, Batman, and Spiderman.’

  ‘No! It has to be real people.’

  ‘Who says so?’ I laughed.

  ‘Oh, OK, then. Superman’s got a dodgy haircut and a bit of a Kryptonite issue, Batman looks sexy in black rubber, and Spiderman’s quite agile. Hmm. I’d marry Batman, sleep with Spiderman, and throw Superman off a cliff.’ Ayshe giggled. ‘Right, let me think of a hard one.’ She tapped her lips. ‘I know. George Clooney, Brad Pitt, and Antonio Banderas.’

  ‘That is hard. I want to marry all of them. Well, wouldn’t mind sleeping with all of them either, actually.’

  ‘No you have to choose,’ she said.

  ‘I’d marry Antonio, sleep with Brad, and throw George off the cliff.’

  ‘How could you throw George off a cliff?’ She cackled.

  ‘You made me!’

  ‘Container’s here,’ Kalem shouted from the house, interrupting our howls of laughter.

  I got up. ‘You and Bump stay here and chill out while we get everything sorted.’ I wandered into the house and looked out of the lounge window.

  A huge lorry with our twenty-foot container on the back had pulled up outside. Behind it, a Customs and Excise vehicle parked. A short guy got out, followed by a taller one, who looked a bit like Julio Iglesias.

  ‘OK, so what’s the procedure?’ I asked Kalem.

  ‘We’ll unload all the stuff, and the customs men might ask us to open up a few boxes and make sure the contents are the same as what is listed on the inventory we provided. Simple. As long as you don’t do anything strange.’

  I raised a
n eyebrow. ‘Me? Strange?’

  ‘Yes. Probably best if you just let me do the talking.’ He wandered towards the front door.

  ‘Fine. I just hope they don’t ask to look in the box with my Rabbit in it.’

  He stopped suddenly and swung around to face me. ‘Didn’t you pack it in your case?’

  ‘No, was I supposed to?’

  ‘I thought you knew they might look in some of the boxes!’

  ‘Well, it’s a good job I didn’t pack it in my case, isn’t it? Otherwise Ferret Face might have got it instead.’ I shivered at the thought. ‘Urgh! Imagine that.’

  ‘Oh, God. What else have you got in those boxes?’ Kalem gave me a worried look.

  ‘Nothing. Apart from our personal stuff and the usual household items.’

  ‘You’re sure?’

  I suddenly remembered something else. ‘Oh, and twenty-eight packets of custard cream biscuits.’

  ‘You’re not supposed to bring food in a container,’ he hissed.

  I shrugged. ‘I wasn’t sure if you could get them here or not, so I packed a few to tide me over, just in case.’

  ‘What else is in there that shouldn’t be?’ Kalem’s olive skin turned pasty.

  ‘Nothing else!’

  ‘What did you describe the Rabbit as on the inventory?’

  ‘Pet equipment.’

  He stared at me.

  ‘Well, it’s a Rabbit!’

  ‘What about the box with the custard creams in it?’

  I tilted my head to the side, thinking. ‘Um…I think I put them in with the pots and pans. Come on, they’re not going to be interested in opening a box with pet equipment and pots and pans in it, are they?’ I dragged him outside.

  Hellos all round. Then Julio asked us to inspect the seal number on the container against our inventory paperwork. Yes, it was the same one. Could we please cut the seal in front of them? Yes, did that. Then down to business.

  Two burly guys with the lorry driver helped Kalem and me unload the boxes into the house as Shorty and Julio stood by the side, looking into the container for secret contraband with serious looks on their faces.

 

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