She arcs an eyebrow. ‘Seriously? You’ve met him. He annoys the hell out of people all the time.’
I draw a breath in. ‘And you think someone on this boat pushed him overboard? Who disliked him that much? Who would be capable of such a thing?’ My mind flies to the mafia-esque family on board and Mehmet’s words, telling me that Garry wouldn’t be pestering me any further.
Did someone in the Hello Chicken family push him off the boat?
She shrugs. ‘I’d have thought you, of all people, would know. You’ve never liked him from the start. You threatened to report him several times to head office, and you were heard arguing with him last night.’
‘What’s going on?’ Shaun says, scurrying over. ‘Garry’s not turned up to do his infamousWhere’s My Shoe?game. And there’s no way I’m standing in for him. I’m not working at the bar serving drinks in nothing but an apron until all my clothes are found. He might like that sort of exhibitionism, but I don’t.’
I will not draw attention to the fact that he has spent most of this trip naked in the cupboard.
‘Something fishy is going on,’ says Tiffany. ‘He’s not on the boat.’
Shaun emits a gurgle of laughter. ‘You nearly had me there, Tiff. What a kidder. So, where is he? Has he gone off in the speedboat for more wine?’
‘That’s it! The speedboat,’ I say, relief flooding my bones. ‘Of course. He’s gone off to the mainland in a huff. Or for some other reason.’Probably gone to head office to report me.
‘Let’s check,’ says Shaun, leading the way to the hull. We speedily scamper across the deck, weaving in and out of guests scattered about sunbathing, drinking cocktails and swaying to Turkish music being piped through the crackling PA system. Emir and Mehmet give me a wave as we hurry past. Bless them. They are still waiting patiently at the bar for me. Just as we get to the equipment galley, Emir’s mother, Cassandra, steps out in front of me.
‘Ah, there you are. I’ve been looking all over for you. It’s about Emir’s surprise birthday party.’
‘Oh, erm. I’m really sorry, but can it wait?’
She looks aghast. ‘Can it wait? Let me think on it…’ Her English Home Counties drawl is thick with sarcasm. ‘No. It can’t, dear.’
‘It’s just we’re a little busy right now.’ I look to Tiffany and Shaun for help. ‘We’re doing an emergency…’
‘Stocktake,’ Shaun supplies.
Cassandra lets out an affronted huff. ‘Emergency stocktake? That’s hardly more important than my son’s party, is it?’She must mean the son’s birthday which they all clean forgot until two days ago.‘Now listen to me.’ She spins around to face Shaun and Tiffany. ‘There’s a big tip in it for you all, but only if you make this the best birthday of that little kid’s life. Understand?’
We all nod, desperate to get her out of here, but she takes a further ten minutes to explain that all of the party paraphernalia will arrive by limo when we dock at Selimiye Bay. It’ll be at night, so we can sneak it all on board without Emir knowing and then set it all up the following day before we sail to Marmaris. ‘And Maddie?’
‘Yes?’ I squeak, unable to meet her gaze because I simply won’t be here to do all the things she wants me to do. But neither can I explain without giving the game away in front of the others.
‘Emir is very fond of you. We’d like you to be our guest of honour and carry in the cake.’
‘I’d be delighted to.’What am I saying?‘I’d love that.’
She seems pleased that her work is done. ‘Okay. Carry on with your “emergency” stocktake.’ She is making it sound like a very made-up notion. Which, of course, it is.
Once she’s gone, we fly to the railings expecting to see the speedboat gone, but it’s there. Gleaming in the sunshine, bobbing up and down while tightly tethered to the boat.
‘The dinghy!’ I shout as we cross over to the other side and glance down.
‘It’s been flat for the last two days,’ explains Shaun, pointing to the withered lump of rubber floating alongside the hull of the boat.
‘The kayaks!’ I yell, hurrying over to the rack to count them. They are all present and correct.
‘And the jet ski is here,’ says Shaun, sounding bewildered.
‘Fuck. Where is he?’ asks Tiffany, sounding panicked. ‘If he’s not on the boat and he hasn’t sailed off and nobody has seen him…’ She trails off, lifting her gaze to mine. We all jump, spinning round as footsteps thump towards us. It’s the captain.
‘Where is Garry?’ he says firmly. ‘He needs to sign some docking papers, and I have promised the ladies that he will be ready to carry out the entertainments. Although, I think a general knowledge quiz would be more appropriate.’ He looks at each of us in turn. ‘What is going on?’
Nobody speaks.How do you explain you’ve lost a LoveIt Holidays supervisor?
‘I am the captain,’ he reminds us sternly. ‘Tell me.’
