Page 35 of The Cruise Club

‘That sounds lovely,’ Carmen replied.

‘Mind the cobblestones!’ Betty yelled as they entered the narrow streets. ‘My poor old back is playing up something awful.’

Fran linked her arm with Carmen’s, and they began to stroll along, passing taxis and rental cars. ‘Oh, just look at all those windmills!’ Fran exclaimed and pointed to a long line of structures, their whitewashed walls standing majestically against a backdrop of brilliant blue. The large sail-like blades were still, and Sid, glancing at his book, explained that the windmills were reminiscent of the medieval period when they were used for grinding grain.

‘It says here that some of the windmills have been converted into cafés,’ Sid read aloud, ‘and you can take in the view of the harbour while enjoying a drink.’

‘I need a drink. My mouth is so parched I might faint.’ Betty fanned her face.

‘Sid, why don’t you take Betty for refreshments while we pop into a couple of shops?’ Fran smiled at her husband.

‘All right, if that’s what you’d like,’ Sid said.

As Fran and Carmen set off, they heard Betty complaining about her aches and pains while Sid manoeuvred her away.

‘Sid is a saint,’ Carmen said, ‘I don’t know how to thank him.’

‘He’s one in a million,’ Fran agreed, ‘but don’t worry, Sid loves wandering about old ruins and will ensure he has plenty of sightseeing.’

‘Now he’s in charge of an old ruin.’ Carmen sighed. ‘Mum never seems to let up.’

‘Has it been a difficult morning?’ Fran asked as they passed shops selling leather belts and bags.

‘No worse than any other,’ Carmen said. ‘Betty is a law unto herself, and although I’m confident that she’s perfectly capable of bathing and dressing, she has a way of manipulating me into doing everything for her.’

‘Well, for the next few hours, you can relax and let someone else take over,’ Fran reassured Carmen, sensing her need for a break. ‘Time for a transformation.’

Carmen looked at Fran. She felt strangely comforted by the woman’s warm arm, linked through her own, and the kind words that wrapped around her like a hug. Was this what having a friend felt like? The quiet thrill of knowing someone enjoyed her company. Carmen felt as though she was stepping onto unfamiliar ground. It was strange to be listened to by Fran and spoken to as an equal rather than a burden. Fran’s kindness was a gentle tide, washing away years of isolation.

Carmen wondered why Fran was so generous with her time when she could have enjoyed Sid’s company. But as she watched Fran head towards a quaint little shop, she decided to stop analysing everything, to do as Fran did, and live in the moment.

‘Just look at these loofas!’ Fran exclaimed as she stood beneath a rustic sign that invited passers-by to browse.

‘Let’s go in,’ Carmen urged Fran forward.

They were greeted by the shop’s earthy scent and the salty tang of the sea as they gazed at walls lined with shelves showcasing hundreds of natural sponges.

‘What do you think they are made of?’ Fran asked.

‘They’re an alternative to a synthetic sponge.’ Carmen touched the coarse texture of a round object. ‘I think they come from a gourd plant and soften when you get them wet. It’s said that they promote circulation.’

‘We all need some of that,’ Fran said. She reached for an oval shape, beautifully packaged with a tag that explained the benefits. ‘It’s good for doing that escalating thingy…’

‘I think you mean exfoliating.’ Carmen grinned.

‘In that case, we’ll have one each.’ Fran paid for her purchase and handed a package to Carmen. ‘There’s nothing like a good scrub to clear away the cobwebs.’

Accepting that Fran might be aware of Carmen’s many complicated cobwebs, Carmen thanked Fran and tucked the gift in her rucksack.

Back in the bright sunshine, they walked past the ruin of a church until they came to a small parade of boutiques, where Carmen hesitated. ‘I’m not sure if I feel like shopping for clothes today,’ she said. With all her time taken up by Betty that morning, she’d not given a thought to her own outfit. Beneath her tired old shorts and T-shirt, Carmen wore an ancient bra and shabby knickers, and the humiliation of removing her clothes in front of others was causing her anxiety.

As though sensing this, Fran was firm. ‘Now, let’s have none of that talk,’ she said. ‘It’s a little bit of“me-time” for you my dear, and I’ll be looking after you all the way.’ Without waiting for Carmen to argue, Fran guided her forcefully towards the shops.

Ruskin enjoyed wandering around the old town of Rhodes. There was much to see, and he felt like he’d stepped back in time as he inspected the ornate iron gates and inns where, during the Crusades, Knights had stopped off on their way to the Holy Land. Following the cobbled streets to the Palace of the Grand Master, he’d been impressed by the medieval castle, learning that it had been built in the fourteenth century by the Knights of St John. With tall towers and fortified walls, Ruskin was taken by the many beautiful mosaics, especially a central panel depicting a leopard.

Now, Ruskin sat in a café named Socrates Garden. He sipped a glass of chilled wine and dipped a slice of warm pitta into a bowl of tzatziki, his open notebook on the table beside him. How would Detective Inspector Blake enjoy these winding streets and hidden gardens where many a mystery might be uncovered? Ruskin’s mind raced, and picking up his pen, he began to make notes.

Suddenly, a commotion at the next table caused Ruskin to look up.

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