My mouth drops open. ‘Seriously?’ I thought she filed those complaints under ‘b’ for bin! Even the death threat.But I’ll circle back to that another time. Hopefully the gentleman concerned wrote it in the heat of the moment. I exhale heavily. What a disaster I’ve been.
On reflection, I probably did slip through the net at the interviews. I was so desperate for an escape route from Dillon, I said whatever they wanted to hear. I should never have told them I could play the French horn through my nose… while standing on my head. Like I say, only child, years of practice. I was too impressive. Too easily employable.
Jackson scuffs his deck shoe on the pavement, avoiding my gaze.
‘Maybe taking this job and coming to Turkey was a mistake.’ I hear the pitiful whine in my voice and I’m immediately embarrassed.
A small hand slips comfortably in mine. ‘I’m glad you’re here,’ Emir says, a genuine warmth to his voice. ‘And so is he.’ He points to Jackson.
‘Yes… of course.’ Jackson’s cheeks redden slightly. Our night of excessive drink, drugs and sexual misconduct is clearly still a taboo topic.
‘I need ice cream,’ announces Emir to break the awkward silence. ‘And baklava and chocolate and sweets.’ He counts them off on his little fingers and starts dragging me by the hand. ‘Come on, Jackson.’
‘First of all, the restaurant is that way,’ I state, indicating Akmars. ‘And secondly, no more sugar for you, young man, if all it makes you do is run off.’
He rolls his eyes as I pull him in the opposite direction. Once we get to Akmars, it is clear that it is an adult-themed dinner and show. Emir takes one look at the flame-throwers breathing fire and the belly dancers jiggling their bits to a crowd of rowdy guests amid a deafening blare of bassoon music and shakes his head. ‘I hate this. It’s boring. They’re all rubbish.’
‘Emir, that’s not very polite now, is it?’ I say firmly in my best teacher tone, partly to impress Jackson. I’d hate for him to think I can’t even administer the basics when it comes to such low-level holiday repping.
‘But isn’t it important to always tell the truth?’ Emir counters.
Fair point.
‘Yes, Emir. It is always important to tell the truth. You’re right.’
Jackson and I look at one another. He shrugs as though to say,now what?He glances kindly at the young boy. ‘I tell you what, Emir, why don’t we go back to the boat?—’
‘So that Maddie can get out of her smelly clothes! She really, really stinks!’
Honestly.He doesn’t have to tell the whole of Turkey. I can see Jackson desperate to snigger. ‘Yes, you’re right. Maddie does stink.’ He holds his nose, pretending to choke, causing Emir to erupt into peals of laughter.
‘And we can play chess!’ Emir yells excitedly.
Christ.I would absolutely love to go back and shower and start this whole ‘spot check’ over again. I’m sure I can dredge up some accomplishment of professional worth to impress Jackson with.
He pauses. ‘Yeah, okay. Sure. But I must warn you, I haven’t played chess in a long, long time,’ he says, an amused look on his face. ‘I’m more of a surf kinda guy.’
‘Then I will beat you,’ says Emir confidently.
‘How long have you been playing?’ Jackson asks politely as we turn around and head back to the gulet.
‘Since this afternoon,’ Emir says without a hint of boastfulness. ‘Maddie taught me. She is very clever. She is the grandmaster champion of the whole world.’
Ah. Bollocks.
Jackson raises his eyebrows, a smirk hovering on his lips as I rapidly plan how to get out of that one. ‘It’s alwayssoimportant to tell the truth, is it?’
‘Absolutely.’ I can’t even look him in the eye. ‘But obviously… there are exceptions.’
Jackson gives me a questioning look as we watch Emir skip along happily in front of us. ‘Exceptions?’
‘Yes. Such as when your boss refuses to reveal he knows the new staff member already.’
‘About that…’
‘If only he had been honest about it, I might not be in this predicament,’ I continue. I’m not sure why I’m referring to him in the third person but now that I’ve started, it feels insane to not continue. ‘And perhaps when he hears how I’ve been running around like an idiot doing all the work while Garry skives off, he may regret the decision.’
‘I do regret it. Once I had a chance to sleep on it, I felt terrible. But how would it look when certain employees end up being let go and others don’t? And accusations begin to fly that the decision-making has been compromised because there is a romantic connection between the boss and an employee?’
