Chapter 24 #2
I will not draw attention to the fact that he has spent most of this trip naked in the cupboard.
‘Something fishy is going on,’ says Tiffany. ‘He’s not on the boat.’
Shaun emits a gurgle of laughter. ‘You nearly had me there, Tiff. What a kidder. So, where is he? Has he gone off in the speedboat for more wine?’
‘That’s it! The speedboat,’ I say, relief flooding my bones. ‘Of course. He’s gone off to the mainland in a huff. Or for some other reason.’ Probably gone to head office to report me.
‘Let’s check,’ says Shaun, leading the way to the hull.
We speedily scamper across the deck, weaving in and out of guests scattered about sunbathing, drinking cocktails and swaying to Turkish music being piped through the crackling PA system.
Emir and Mehmet give me a wave as we hurry past. Bless them.
They are still waiting patiently at the bar for me.
Just as we get to the equipment galley, Emir’s mother, Cassandra, steps out in front of me.
‘Ah, there you are. I’ve been looking all over for you. It’s about Emir’s surprise birthday party.’
‘Oh, erm. I’m really sorry, but can it wait?’
She looks aghast. ‘Can it wait? Let me think on it…’ Her English Home Counties drawl is thick with sarcasm. ‘No. It can’t, dear.’
‘It’s just we’re a little busy right now.’ I look to Tiffany and Shaun for help. ‘We’re doing an emergency…’
‘Stocktake,’ Shaun supplies.
Cassandra lets out an affronted huff. ‘Emergency stocktake? That’s hardly more important than my son’s party, is it?
’ She must mean the son’s birthday which they all clean forgot until two days ago.
‘Now listen to me.’ She spins around to face Shaun and Tiffany.
‘There’s a big tip in it for you all, but only if you make this the best birthday of that little kid’s life. Understand?’
We all nod, desperate to get her out of here, but she takes a further ten minutes to explain that all of the party paraphernalia will arrive by limo when we dock at Selimiye Bay.
It’ll be at night, so we can sneak it all on board without Emir knowing and then set it all up the following day before we sail to Marmaris. ‘And Maddie?’
‘Yes?’ I squeak, unable to meet her gaze because I simply won’t be here to do all the things she wants me to do. But neither can I explain without giving the game away in front of the others.
‘Emir is very fond of you. We’d like you to be our guest of honour and carry in the cake.’
‘I’d be delighted to.’ What am I saying? ‘I’d love that.’
She seems pleased that her work is done. ‘Okay. Carry on with your “emergency” stocktake.’ She is making it sound like a very made-up notion. Which, of course, it is.
Once she’s gone, we fly to the railings expecting to see the speedboat gone, but it’s there. Gleaming in the sunshine, bobbing up and down while tightly tethered to the boat.
‘The dinghy!’ I shout as we cross over to the other side and glance down.
‘It’s been flat for the last two days,’ explains Shaun, pointing to the withered lump of rubber floating alongside the hull of the boat.
‘The kayaks!’ I yell, hurrying over to the rack to count them. They are all present and correct.
‘And the jet ski is here,’ says Shaun, sounding bewildered.
‘Fuck. Where is he?’ asks Tiffany, sounding panicked. ‘If he’s not on the boat and he hasn’t sailed off and nobody has seen him…’ She trails off, lifting her gaze to mine. We all jump, spinning round as footsteps thump towards us. It’s the captain.
‘Where is Garry?’ he says firmly. ‘He needs to sign some docking papers, and I have promised the ladies that he will be ready to carry out the entertainments. Although, I think a general knowledge quiz would be more appropriate.’ He looks at each of us in turn. ‘What is going on?’
Nobody speaks. How do you explain you’ve lost a LoveIt Holidays supervisor?
‘I am the captain,’ he reminds us sternly. ‘Tell me.’
‘We are, um, doing a stocktake,’ says Shaun unconvincingly.
The captain raises an eyebrow. ‘Listen. I don’t care what the three of you get up to as long as none of the passengers have to witness it. You have your cabins.’ He clears his throat. ‘I suggest you use them.’
Oh, my word. He thinks we’re having a threesome. ‘No!’ I shout instinctively. ‘Christ, no. It’s not like that. I’m not… would never… not with these two. Just because Shaun’s having…’ I’ll leave it there.
‘What she’s badly trying to explain, Captain, is that Shaun and I are in a loving and exclusive relationship and would never invite someone this uptight’ – Tiffany hoicks a thumb at me – ‘or nerdy to have a threesome with us. Would we, Shaun?’
Shaun is standing with his arms semi-folded, a fist propped under his chin, while he eyes me up and down like a personal shopper trying to assess what outfit could possibly transform me into someone alluring enough to have sex with. ‘Probably not, no.’
The captain, once again, clears his throat. ‘I feel this conversation is veering off topic. Where is Garry? Someone explain where he is.’
I hang my head. ‘He’s not here.’
‘Pardon? You mean he’s not down here. He must be elsewhere on the boat?’
We shake our heads and watch his eyes widen with realisation. ‘He has taken the speedboat to the mainland?’
Again, we shake our heads. ‘I’ve counted all the kayaks, the jet ski’s still here and the dinghy is flat,’ I tell him. ‘It’s like he’s just disappeared.’
‘Search the boat again. Every inch. Meet me on deck. I’ll put a call out to the Turkish Coastal Guard to see if he has fallen in the water and been picked up by a passing vessel.
In the meantime, be discreet. We don’t want to cause any panic.
’ He marches to the edge of the boat, pulls a small set of binoculars from his trouser pocket and begins to scan the sea.
It has never looked so vast. There is no land in sight.
Even if Garry had fallen in, he’d have to be an expert swimmer to make it to any of the islands we have passed. And don’t get me started on the sharks.
‘Who saw him last? And when?’ the captain is asking.
Shaun and Tiffany point at me.
* * *
As everyone scatters to begin a new search, I grab Tiffany’s arm as she turns to leave. ‘If someone were hiding on board, where’s the last place you’d look?’ I ask her.
‘The waste pipe?’
‘Which waste pipe?’
‘The one that flushes the toilet and kitchen waste out to sea.’
‘Where is it?’
Tiffany leans over the railing and points down the side of the gulet to a round opening just above sea level.
‘How would you even reach that to check?’
She shrugs. ‘No idea. I wouldn’t do it even if I could.
But that’s where I’d hide. I’d block the waste trap first, obviously.
Wouldn’t want to get flushed out to sea.
Same thing happened once on our way to St Lucia.
We thought the toilets were blocked but it turned out we had a stowaway in the pipe. ’
Oh. My. God.
‘I suppose you could get into that harness and lower yourself down from the standing rig,’ she says, flicking her hand over to the main mast and a box containing ropes and metal clips. ‘I’d do it but I’m also the only one who knows how to control the rigging to come back up.’
‘I’ll do it,’ I say before I can change my mind. ‘Help me get strapped into the harness.’
Tiffany sighs discontentedly. ‘Okay, sure.’ She rummages in the box and pulls out a stiff, waxy nappy-type structure and deftly manhandles me into the complicated system of harness, safety shackles, pulleys and ropes.
She hooks several carabiner clips to a joist and then on various parts of my body.
It is only when I am clambering nervously over the railing that she screws her eyes, taps a finger against her chin, thinks for a moment and informs me the descent will have to be upside down.
‘But why?’
‘I’ve gone and put it on you the wrong way up.’ She bends her head to the side. ‘Yup. I did wonder why all the hooks were so difficult to do.’
‘Well, let’s take it off and start again.’
‘No time.’ She glances at her watch. ‘Come on. Over you go.’
* * *
A short harrowing while later, the search is complete.
‘What do you mean Garry is missing?’ hisses Astrid as we gather round the captain, who is radioing the Turkish port authorities, speaking rapidly in Turkish and looking increasingly worried.
‘Why were you two arguing in the first place? What did you say to him? And why are you wearing a chastity belt? What’s going on? ’
‘What did I say to him?’ I squeak. ‘Nothing. If anything, he was threatening me.’ I am not loving the finger-pointing that is going on here.
Nor am I loving the fact that Tiffany went skipping off as soon as she winched me back on board, having established that Garry was not hiding in the waste pipe due to gallons of garbage shooting from the hole just as I approached.
The captain’s head whips round. ‘He threatened you?’ He turns away from me to murmur into the walkie-talkie radio he has in his hand while holding the curly cord with the other. ‘And what happened after that?’
‘Who are you talking to? Who wants to know? Is that head office?’
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I’m never going to realise my dream job of sitting opposite Jackson day in day out if they find out I’m caught up in yet another bit of bother. Surely Garry will turn up safe and sound.
The captain shakes his head. ‘The Turkish police.’
I can feel the blood drain from my face, and I have a lump the size of a turnip in my throat. ‘The police?’
‘They are on their way.’
* * *