Chapter 28
After waking from the best sleep of my life, I’m almost relieved to be leaving today now that it looks more unlikely I’ll be frogmarched straight to jail.
I’m even more pleased to see Astrid and Tiffany have also woken in a good mood, perhaps because they are getting rid of me.
Either way, as we respectfully tiptoe around each other for the bathroom (after you, no after you), take turns for the one mirror (here, use my anti-frizz serum) and they even pick up their clothes from the floor by my bed (how did that get there, I’m so sorry) and more, we still, bizarrely, do not mention the missing person.
It’s as though he never happened. Like when Prince changed his name to an unpronounceable symbol and the world just went along with it, no questions asked.
We also do not mention their clashing alibis for the evening in question or their errant behaviour or their animosity towards each other.
Instead, Astrid and Tiffany behave like the best of friends.
‘Astrid, honey. Shall we take turns on the bar today?’
‘Sure thing, babe.’
‘And alternate between dining and room tidy?’
‘Great idea, Tiff. I’ll do breakfast service while you and Mads do towel refresh for any guests wanting it.
Although I imagine it’ll be like a zombie apocalypse if they don’t sleep off their hangovers this morning.
Last night was such a messy one.’ Astrid lets out a tinkling laugh and we join in even though I’m not sure what the joke is.
It’s as though we’ve become Stepford wives while we’re trapped here out at sea.
‘Did either of you know that Garry was Greek?’ I ask, causing a flurry of titters.
‘Figures. Randy sod.’ Tiff rolls her eyes at Astrid, who returns a meaningful look. They know all about randy men, that’s for sure.
‘Real name Garribald Geopapadopolopoudos,’ I tell them. ‘Or something like that.’
‘I had no clue but at least that’s better than Gee Dawg and Gee Man,’ scoffs Tiffany, giving Astrid another secretive look. She shudders. ‘I think life at sea without him will be easier.’
I must look surprised.
‘Oh, don’t give me that. He was a right lazy twat, and you know it,’ says Astrid, marching towards the bathroom. She hovers at the door. ‘What time are you leaving today, Mads?’
‘Not sure. I think Jackson is coming to get me once we have clearance to dock in Marmaris.’
‘We’ll miss you,’ says Tiffany. ‘We’re sorry we’ve been so awful, aren’t we, Astrid?’
She nods. ‘Yeah. It’s been complicated. You just got caught in the crossfire. Anyone need the shower? I’m going to throw up.’
Once she’s disappeared through the bathroom door, Tiffany turns to me. ‘Check out the Jekyll and Hyde mood swings. Prepare yourself. She’ll be a category-six tropical cyclone in ten minutes’ time. She’s sooooo pregnant.’
Yikes.
‘How do you feel about that?’
‘I’m pleased for her. She wanted him more than me, I guess.’
‘She wanted to get pregnant?’
‘Seems that way. She obviously loves him.’ Tiffany’s cheeks colour. ‘And she can have him.’
What the hell?
‘But what about you and Shaun? The turbulent love triangle?’
Tiffany laughs. ‘Hah! I’m not after Shaun for anything other than tactical shagging.’
The bathroom door opens, and Astrid comes out wiping the side of her mouth with a towel. I can see a depressing amount of toilet paper poking out of the bowl. I just hope I’m off the boat before she single-handedly blocks the entire plumbing system. She regards me for a moment. ‘What?’
‘Nothing,’ I say. I genuinely have no idea what is going on with these two frenemies.
‘Now that you’re so obviously pregnant, I will stop shagging Shaun,’ Tiffany declares, going over to Astrid to put an arm around her shoulder. ‘You can have him back. He’s all yours.’
Astrid gasps disbelievingly. ‘But I thought you wanted revenge for me sleeping with your ex. Which I told you a million times I’m sorry about.’
Tiffany grumbles with a tone of exasperation.
‘I can’t take any more of Shaun’s weird dressing-up fetish.
Besides, my dad wants me back home. Says I need to do a proper job, using my degree instead of messing about on a glorified holiday.
So I’ll be learning the ropes on the fast-track graduate scheme at his pharmaceuticals company.
Plus, I might as well hand my notice in before Jackson sacks the lot of us. ’
‘I’ll hand my notice in too, before either Jackson sacks me or the Hello Chicken family push me overboard.’ Astrid puts a hand to her belly. ‘I’ll need to take a test when we dock, just to be certain, but I’m not sure how Shaun is going to take the news.’
‘He’ll be fine. He needs to grow up anyway. Too many androgens and not enough oxytocin.’
Righto. Chemistry graduates. Who knew? So organised. So efficient. So no-nonsense.
* * *
Once upstairs, I catch my reflection in the mirrored door leading to the kitchen.
Now that my hair is freshly washed and dutifully swinging around my shoulders in its lovely ‘Rachel’ style, my make-up is fresh and natural-looking, my uniform is pristine for once and my step is jaunty, I look like a different version of myself.
A much more put-together version (nothing to do with Jackson coming back today or the look he gave me as he left, nothing at all.
Nothing). This has been the longest week of my life and yet it has been transformative in so many ways.
When I push through the door, I’m pleased to see the chef has everything in hand.
I speak neither Turkish nor Armenian so when he waves my offer of help away, I shrug gratefully.
I wonder what he makes of it all. I point to the fresh-out-the-oven baklava pastries drizzled in honey and crushed pistachios.
He immediately seems to sense who it is for and wraps a large piece carefully in baking paper for me.
I take the staff stairs two at a time and make my way over to the dining area.
Shaun is already setting out plates and cutlery and whistling an Oasis tune.
He looks happy. I try my best to avoid his gaze, aware that Tiffany is currently gifting him to Astrid as though he’s a bunch of flowers or a voucher for a free spa day.
I wonder how he’ll take to impending fatherhood.
Shaun plonks a plate down. ‘Thanks for your discretion with the whole Astrid and Tiffany thing, by the way. I owe you. It’ll be much easier to manage now that Garry’s not here, and I have a cabin to myself.’
He obviously has no idea what’s coming his way. He’s about to join one of the world’s biggest clubs; 121 million unplanned pregnancies occur globally each year. ‘You have a funny way of showing it. Trying to blame me for pushing Garry overboard?’
He laughs. ‘Well, it wasn’t any of us, if that’s what you’re thinking.’
‘But you would have much more reason than me. Didn’t he disapprove of you constantly playing Astrid and Tiffany off against one another? Plus, your alibi didn’t hold up. Won’t the police leap to that conclusion?’
He stops laying the table, pausing for thought. ‘Only if you tell them.’
* * *
Within a single hour, the glorious sunny day has morphed from a tranquil harmonious day in paradise to one of complete chaos as the guests emerge hungover, hungry and thoroughly sick of being at sea.
We are in the middle of the Aegean so there is not much I can do about it, yet as I stand behind the bar serving thick black coffee, I try to field complaint after complaint with promises that the LoveIt Holidays head office team are doing everything they can to get the voyage back on track.
Emir’s mother sidles over with Emir. ‘Happy birthday!’ I say, grabbing the pastry from its hiding place under the bar. ‘I got you this.’ I look at his mother for confirmation as I hold out the baklava pastry. ‘I hope that’s okay?’
She nods, allowing him to whip it from my hands.
He greedily stuffs it in his mouth, making cute groans of pleasure with each bite, his eyes as round as moons.
‘Emir is simply having the time of his life. He loves it on this boat, and he says it is his best birthday ever, didn’t you?
He says it’s like being in his very own episode of Scooby Doo. ’
He nods enthusiastically as I glance down, smiling at him. ‘Thank you. That’s such a relief because some of the guests are threatening to complain to head office about being behind schedule.’
‘Yes,’ she says bluntly. ‘But don’t take it personally. It’s not your fault you pushed that hideous man off the boat. Heck, we’d have all been queuing up behind you if we’d known.’
She eyes my startled expression.
‘I didn’t push him!’ I state clearly.
‘Whatever.’ She lowers her voice so that Emir can’t hear. ‘Have you managed to give some thought to Emir’s party today?’
‘Erm, well, we’ve been so busy (what with the police, the impromptu wild party you all enjoyed and the interrogation) but I guess I can think of something.’
‘Don’t bother. He wants to spend the day with you and that handsome dreamboat who came on board yesterday. He wants to play chess and solve murders. Is that okay with you?’
‘Yes. Of course. Certainly.’ What do you say to that?
Emir is grabbing my hand tightly. ‘I’ll return him by the evening, and you can celebrate with him then.
I’ll bring the party things on board once we dock in Marmaris and have it all set up ready.
That is if I’m not falsely accused of murder and slung in jail, obviously. ’
She bursts out laughing. ‘Obviously. See you later.’ She stops and turns.
‘Oh, and by the way, let your head office know that we’ll be suing for damages.
As far as they should be concerned, this trip has been a complete nightmare from start to finish.
We’re all beyond traumatised.’ She winks theatrically and blows me a kiss.
‘Your motto is “Your dream holiday or your money back”, isn’t it? ’