Page 20 of My Turkish Fling
I had no idea who Harry was, but I nodded anyway. Anything to make the questions stop.
Maree entered the kitchen, giving Tabitha a nervous look. “Did you tell her about Len yet?”
“Len who?”
“Len Harding. The pastor! His wife just died.” Tabitha beamed like this was the best news she’d heard all week. “Him and Adrian are golf buddies, so he gets all the goss.”
“That’s terrible.”
“No, no. She was on life support for months. It’s a relief, I’m sure. Len will be looking for a new wife. A man like that won’t stay single. We’ve already dropped your name and he seemed to… liven up. Well, Adrian used a different phrase which I won’t repeat, but anyway, let me know if you’d like me to set you two up.”
“He’s so dreamy,” Maree smiled, eyes half-closed, her heavy breath sounding like an air-con unit. “The ladies will be lining up.”
Why was I friends with these people?
I sighed, chucked the egg container in the fridge, and shiftedcloser to the front door, hoping the ladies got the hint. “I hope people give him time. It takes a while to get over a relationship.”
“How long has it been for you now?” Tabitha asked, only moving an inch towards the door. “Eight… nine months?”
Had she marked my divorce in her personal calendar?
“Something like that.” I took another step towards the door, digging my fingernails into the sleeves of my robe. “I’m not ready for anything yet. I’m focusing on work.”
Tabitha’s face lit up. “Work! Thank you for reminding me! That’s another thing we need to discuss. We could really use your help with the Art Deco Gala. Everyone was so gutted when the festival got cancelled because of the floods and I think this gala will bridge the gap. And it’s so important to fundraise right now. The next meeting is on Wednesday this coming week. It’s vital that everyone is present.”
My mind kicked into overdrive, searching for excuses, sorting them in order of usefulness… I needed an out. Not an engagement party I was hosting next weekend. Something long-term, time consuming and worthwhile that would save me from weeks of mind-numbing planning meetings.
The answer came to me almost at the same time I opened my mouth, the words forming on my tongue. “Unfortunately, I’ve taken on a big documentary project and that will eat up most of my time in the coming weeks. Apologies.”
Tabitha’s eyes sharpened. “Documentary? What sort?”
My mind sprinted. “About the after effect of the floods. The real stories… forgotten people who still deal with the long-termeffects as the mainstream media moves on.” With every word, my confidence grew, and I noticed excitement bubbling in my chest. I could do this.
Sometimes, your subconscious has all the answers, waiting to be released under extreme pressure. Thank you, Tabitha. She was pressure personified, and the answer I’d been looking for burst out of my mouth so fully cooked I could hardly believe it. I’d always been fast, thinking and speaking simultaneously. Sometimes, I heard the words as if spoken by someone else and found myself agreeing or disagreeing. My brain was wired a bit funny.
“That sounds wonderful, Janie.” Maree blinked several times. “Who are you working with?”
I paused. No matter how much my brain galloped, I couldn’t spin the truth any further. I had to offer some honesty. “It’s very early days and it’s a low budget production, so I’m still looking for crew members. Let me know if you can think of anyone.”
Tabitha raised her terrifying pointer finger. “My nephew Gus is a cameraman! I’ll send him over for a visit!”
My stomach tightened but I smiled as I finally grasped the front door, my savior, and cracked it open. “Wonderful. Please do.”
Gus couldn’t be worse than Tabitha.
When we finally got through the goodbyes and the ladies shuffled outside, I closed the door and leaned against it, forcefully breathing in and out. My chest felt so tight I had to fight for every lungful of oxygen. I couldn’t be this easily rattled, could I? I had to be stronger than this.
But the tears came anyway. The tears of loneliness andhumiliation. All the things I worried and grieved about, laid out in front of me on a platter by Tabitha fucking Witts. She knew everyone. She talked to everyone. She’d report all over town about my husband’s new family, my perpetually broken fence, and my low budget documentary. The last one probably didn’t hurt if I wanted to get a production off the ground. Did I, really? I’d felt the excitement in the moment, but now, it was replaced by dread. Maybe I didn’t have it in me.
I wiped my face on my sleeve and returned to the dining room, the newspaper article beckoning me like fly paper—sticky, deadly and irresistible. Shaun posed with his hand resting on Kelly’s baby bump, looking a little sunburnt, his forehead shining like a glazed Christmas ham, a proud smile on his face. I blinked away the blurry blobs of tears, to see it clearly. I remembered his smile from years ago when he’d still had hair. But with that shiny dome? I felt like I’d never seen the combination. When had I last seen him smile? Maybe men simply didn’t smile around me. That Turkish guy was so strait-laced I didn’t even know if he had incisors.
I shook my head at my racing thoughts. In a way, I welcomed the thoughts of Emir and the distraction he brought. How badly out of control would I spiral if he wasn’t here right now? I didn’t even want to find out. Where was he anyway?
I dabbed my eyes with a tissue, trying to bring my sniffles under control. But no amount of deep breathing could stop the quiver in my chest. My gaze brushed across the close-up photo of their engagement rings, diamonds glinting in the sun, and a fresh wave of emotion washed over me. Why was I learning about this fromthe fucking newspaper?
I picked up my phone and checked my messages. There it was. A short, evasive email from Shaun, apologizing for the ‘late notice’. I wanted to scream. My body shook from the rage, then tears burst out with full force.
I couldn’t let anyone see me like this.
