13

Close But No Cigar

It's ten o'clock at night and Ginny and I are seated on the waterfront opposite a rowdy bar in Bodrum with Aricia and her older sister, Aikaterini (a total mouthful, so she's Kat for short). Behind us, St. Peter's Castle is illuminated softly giving the harbour a romantic glow, while in front of us the waiters are gyrating to some hilariously synchronised dance to a popular Turkish song that I think is actually sung by that girl from Neighbours. Either way, it has brought the entire street to a standstill. I’m happily tipsy and laughing so hard tears run down my face as the waiters remove their shirts and thrust their crotches at everyone.

“What on earth was that?”

“You haven’t had a summer holiday in Turkey without having a random guy’s crotch in your face!”

“Is that right?”

Ginny nods with a grin, takes a sip of her drink before she resumes the conversation we'd started before all the thrusting.

"Why are you not responding to your family?"

“I prefer the term ignoring.”

“Ignoring… responding… either way you’re mother is not happy.”

She’s right though, I have stopped responding to the daily bombardment of messages from my mother, my father (who no doubt was forced to message me by my mother) and even my siblings, for that matter. They are always the same and my answers rarely change.

You have embarrassed your entire family.

How proud you must be.

We're worried about you,patatina!

Don't be, Babbo.

Even my siblings are taking it in turns to harp on me. You have to come home. Mum is driving everyone crazy!

Never shall I ever!

"Why are they messaging you?"

"Because their daughter has gone AWOL and I think they're genuinely concerned about your welfare. At least I reply to them!"

"Doubtful. My mother is probably more concerned about having to explain to Luca's family that it was herragazza mattathat ruined their perfect son's life.Babbois probably hiding out at work to escape my mother's wrath, Leo and Chi probably don't give a shit either way and Rosie is just praying I don't vomit on any more of her clothes."

Our waiter returns with his shirt back on and a tray full of cocktails. He's been flirting with all of us since we sat down. Kat is definitely enjoying the attention. She jumps up to help him unload the cocktails in case he drops the whole tray over us. He disappears for a moment before returning and handing her a rose.

"Ugh. Seriously? These men are all the same." I glare at the waiter until he backs away but not before he whispers something in Kat's ear.

"Man-whore!" I shout after him. "Kat, no matter what, don't you fall for that man-whore. He'll only break your heart."

"You don't need to worry about Kat with a man-whore." Aricia giggles. "You need to worry about those boys with Kat 'cause she's a totalman-eater. She's already been through two husbands, and she hasn't even hit her flirty thirties yet."

Ginny taps me on the leg to get my attention. "Speaking of man-whores, Deniz is over there talking to someone."

I've worked on Tora at least a dozen times since Deniz and I fought. He's avoiding me, the restaurant, the boat, his responsibilities, and being a big pain in the ass for Aydin as he has had to double his workload since Deniz has made himself scarce.

"Now you've gone and completely ruined my night."

Mentally cursing myself, I hazard a glance in Deniz’s direction. He’s sitting with a group of people at a table close to the dancefloor, sipping from a long glass filled with the milky, star-of-anise-flavoured grape liquor, calledraki.I’m quite partial to it, especially with fish, but Ginny’s right when she says it could strip paint off a wall. It’s strong stuff.

My insides prickle with jealousy as I watch an insanely beautiful Turkish woman cross the dancefloor in an effort to get Deniz’s attention. He pretends not to see her as she dances seductively in front of his table but that doesn’t deter her and she bends towards him with a cigarette in her mouth. He lights her cigarette before he turns back to his friends. She definitely didn’t appreciate the snub because she gives him what appears to be a mouthful of abuse. Deniz raises his glass at her retreating figure, a tight, somewhat embarrassed smile on his lips before returning his attention to his friends.

Deniz. Not. Flirting.