Ah.Now I feel foolish. ‘Okay. Wait. Sorry about that.’ I’m so unbelievably tired I could sleep standing up, my head drooped to one side like a flamingo. ‘It’s for theLove Ahoy!A big gulet boat.’
I’d expect at least a look of admiration that I’m going to work on Turkey’s finest yacht, but she simply shrugs and picks up an ancient-looking phone straight from the 1960s. She huffs as she holds the receiver to her ear, its curly wire stretched as far as it can while she rings the world’s longest telephone number on the rotary dial, my nerves winding tighter with every whir of the dial as it resets. After what I swear is a ten-minute wait, with Banu drumming her fingernails against the shiny plastic surface of the desk, I hear her talk rapidly in Turkish before replacing the receiver. ‘He will come in one hour.’
‘But we’ve been arguing about it for at least fifteen minutes and there was the ten-minute wait to get through, so now I need it to come in half an hour!’ I’m so frustrated with this whole scenario I can feel my skin physically tighten right across my face.
She picks up the phone again. ‘I will cancel first taxi and then rebook.’
I watch her fingernail hooking each plastic circle of the phone dial as it whirs back to the start. It connects after a crackle, and I hear the distant ringing tone. I bed in for another ten-minute wait.
As she twirls the spiral cord connecting the handset to the phone, she gives me a sympathetic look. ‘But of course they only have one taxi so maybe you don’t get another taxi for a long time. Is big risk.’
As her words sink in, suddenly a faraway voice on the receiving end answers. Trust them to answer straight away! I yell at Banu as she speaks into the receiver. ‘For Christ’s sake, just leave the booking. Don’t cancel!’
Her head jerks up. ‘Too late. I have cancelled.’
I feel like weeping. I’m so exhausted that I instantly fold like a flimsy, bargain-aisle camping chair. My forehead thumps against the reception desk in defeat.
‘You want I book again?’
‘Yes. Yes, please,’ I mutter. ‘If you would be so kind.’
* * *
I am gutted when I walk through the door of my lovely apartment and gaze longingly at the unslept-in bed. The beautiful view through the balcony doors that I have yet to gaze out of while sipping a coffee and marvelling at what a great decision to work abroad has been. The little sofas and coffee table I won’t have a chance to put my feet up on as I contentedly reflect on how thoroughly I am enjoying my new job and how well I get on with my co-workers (fat chance of that happening now).
And don’t get me started on that twinkling swimming pool that I was looking forward to lounging beside while my translucent legs develop a bronzed glow. I think my heart is breaking. I check my watch. I need to leap into action.
I barely have time to shower and repack my clothes before it is time to go back down to reception to get the taxi. I just pray that it is on time.
Banu is waiting to take my key from me.
‘Last night, when I arrived. You gave me a bag,’ I say, watching her hang my key up.
She nods. ‘Yes. Did you have fun at the party? Did you enjoy yourfreedrinks?’
I mean, I had a lot of fun and a lot of free drinks, but she doesn’t need to know that. ‘About the costume,’ I say, tipping my head to the side. ‘I don’t appreciate you playing a joke on me. Especially not on my first night here.’
She looks mildly confused. ‘What joke?’
‘The bag with the costume in?’
She frowns. ‘You threatened to complain about me. Why should I help you?’
Excellent point.
‘Fine, fair enough. Forget it. Everyone else around here seems to hate me, why not you too?’ I slump against the reception desk.
She takes a moment to eye me suspiciously. ‘It was Garry Gee. He gave me the bag.’
OMG. Garry?
‘Are you sure? Did he specifically say when to wear it? Like last night?’
Banu puffs. ‘Bag. Rep. You wear. I was very busy at the time.’
Why would anyone do that? She must be mistaken. But I don’t have time for semantics. I smile gratefully at her in thanks.
Her face changes imperceptibly. ‘He is not a nice man.’
