by Hodge, Sibel
‘My knickers have been nicked,’ the first woman informed her.
‘Mine too,’ I added.
‘And mine.’
‘Mine too.’
‘And my friend’s in there now. Hers are probably being stolen as we speak and–’
‘These are very serious allegations. Which masseur was it?’ she interrupted, a sombre expression locked in place.
‘The one in there.’ And with this the first woman pointed to the room containing the Turkish Bath as the waif hovered by, biting her nail.
Just then, a loud scream errupted from the steam room: ‘Aagh! What are you doing, you pervert?’ Ayshe came running out, clutching her knickers to her chest.
‘You too?’ the first woman said.
Ayshe nodded. ‘I’ve had loads of Turkish Bath massages, and no one does that!’ she fumed.
‘I can only apologize profusely, I’m afraid that member of staff is new. He came very highly recommended.’ The manager shook her head. ‘Does anyone want to involve the police or can we deal with this internally?’
‘Only if you sack him,’ the first woman said.
‘I agree.’
‘I want to make a complaint to the police,’ I said.
‘Here, here.’
‘Me too,’ Ayshe snapped. ‘He shouldn’t be able to get away with it. I’m going to call the police.’ She tugged her mobile out of her bag and dialed 999.
‘Hello, what’s your emergency please?’ the police controller asked.
‘I’ve had my underwear stolen.’ Ayshe glared at the manager.
‘Were you in them at the time Madam?’
‘What? Of course I wasn’t!’ Ayshe said.
‘Do you know the offender? Do you know where he is?’ the police controller went on.
‘Lock him in the steam bath.’ the first woman said to the manager.
‘We’re going to lock him in the bath,’ Ayshe informed the controller.
The manager, deciding she could have a riot on her hands, thought it was best to comply.
‘What’s your name and address, please?’ the controller enquired.
Ayshe rattled off her details. ‘Do you need my phone number?’
‘If it is the same number you are calling from then we have a record of it. Where did the incident happen?’
‘In the bath.’
‘Why was he in the bath with you?’
‘Because he was giving me a massage!’
‘Sorry, I don’t understand. You were in the bath and this man was giving you a massage, and then he stole your knickers?’ the police controller asked.
‘No, no. I’m at Felsham Hall Health Farm. I was having a massage treatment and the masseur tried to steal my knickers. I’m supposed to be having a nice, relaxing day!’ Ayshe’s voice reached a high crescendo
‘Oh, I see. OK, we will have a police unit with you in about half an hour.’
‘Right, thanks very much.’ Ayshe slammed her phone shut. ‘Someone’s going to come up,’ she told everyone.
‘Well, if you’re making a complaint, so am I,’ the first woman spat.
‘Me too,’ I said. How dare he have a jolly when we were in a vulnerable state.
‘OK, ladies. Perhaps you would all like to go into the snug room and wait. Follow me, please.’ The manager led us to a quiet sitting-room. ‘When the police arrive, I will send them up. Can I get you something to drink – on the house, of course?’
‘Wine and soda please.’ I flopped down into a deep, leather Chesterfield and folded my arms across my chest.
‘Brandy.’
‘I’ll have one too.’
‘I need one for the shock.’
‘Wine, please,’ Ayshe said, stony-faced.
‘I would like a cigar too, please,’ I added, as I ran a hand rather manically through my hair.
‘You stopped smoking!’ Ayshe looked at me.
‘Well, occasionally I have a sneaky one under moments of extreme stress. And I think this qualifies.’
The manager abandoned us, closing the door behind her with a firm click.
‘Filthy animal,’ I spat.
We went into ranting overdrive until Miss Abundant Bosoms came back looking very uncomfortable. Silently, she placed a tray of drinks and a couple of giant Churchill cigars on the coffee table in front of us. I grabbed a cigar, yanked the wrapper off and gave it a quick sniff – urgh, it smelled of sheep shit – oh, well – needs must.
Forty-five minutes later, two policemen arrived. The older one had the most poppy-out eyes I’d ever seen and bright-red, ruddy cheeks and the other one looked about twelve. They sat down with us and took our details. There were serious looks all round.
‘So, after the massage, your knickers all disappeared. Is that correct?’ the older one asked whilst the younger one took notes in a small, black notebook.
‘Yes,’ everyone agreed in unison.
‘And they were left in the room with you whilst you were having the massage?’ the younger one interrupted.
‘Yes!’ the first woman answered.
‘Did he use any force or offensive weapons to get the knickers?’ The older one gazed at us, and I thought his eyeballs were going to ping out.
‘Only his hands,’ I fumed.
‘Can you explain exactly what he did, please, madam?’ the younger one asked.
‘Well, I left my underwear on the chair and when he finished my massage, they’d vanished,’ I said.
‘Yeah, same for me.’
‘That’s about right.’
‘Yes, they were definitely there before the massage.’
‘I actually caught him trying to take them. I tried to pull them off him, and he ripped them,’ Ayshe added.
‘Can you describe the…’ the younger one coughed, ‘hmm…knickers, please.’
‘Mine were navy blue cotton. Size twenty, from Marks and Spencer.’
‘Black cheeky knickers with the words “Do you wanna play?” on the back,’ I said.
The younger one glanced up briefly, then repeated what I’d said as he scribbled it down.
‘Mine were magic knickers,’ one of the women said.
‘Pardon?’ PC Poppy-eyed asked. ‘What are magic knickers?’
‘The kind that hold your flabby bits in. When I bought them, the shop assistant assured me they would make you look two sizes smaller,’ the first woman told him. ‘They don’t work, though!’
‘Well, they certainly disappeared,’ the younger policeman said. ‘Maybe they were magic.’
She glared at him. ‘Can I get them under the Trade Descriptions Act or something for telling lies?’
‘Sorry Madam, that’s a civil matter. Where’s the offender now?’ PC Poppy-eyed asked.
‘Locked in the steam room,’ Ayshe volunteered.
The policemen stood up. ‘OK, we’ll go and talk to him and come back in a moment.’
I downed my drink. Puffing furiously on the cigar, I tipped my head back and blew a trail of blue-grey smoke up to the ceiling. ‘Gross,’ I muttered to no one in particular. ‘And I’ve missed my seaweed wrap and pedicure.’
After twenty minutes, they returned and took a statement from each of us.
‘He’s admitted the whole thing. He had a locker full of various women’s…erm, articles. We’re going to arrest him for theft and we will be in touch with you ladies shortly to indentify your underwear,’ the younger one informed us.
‘Thanks.’
‘Pig! Oh sorry, not you, officer,’ I stammered.
‘Thank you, officers.’
‘I should hope so too,’ the first woman said as the manager skulked back into the room.
‘I’m very sorry about all this. Before you leave, we will be handing out complimentary passes from the check-in desk for another day at the spa.’
‘I need to have a seaweed wrap.’ I said, still harping on about it as I stubbed out another cigar.
‘Thanks,’ Ayshe muttered, as we headed off to get c
hanged.
Chapter 23
‘Whaaat!’ Atila screeched when we spilled the beans on the knicker-nicking masseur.
‘I know. Can you believe it?’ Ayshe stormed around the flat like a balloon that had just had all the air let out.
‘What did the police say?’ Atila held his arms out for her, and she stepped into them, resting her head on his shoulder.
‘They arrested him.’ She sniffed.
‘Are you OK?’ He looked at me. ‘Do you need a cuddle, too?’
I nodded, feeling sorry for myself, and joined them in a big group hug.
‘Well, I’m not going there again, even if we did get a complimentary pass,’ I said. ‘Good job I took a spare pair of knickers with me.’
‘Maybe I’ll go.’ Atila let go of us and poked at the spaghetti sauce. ‘See if I get my boxers stolen by a big butch Swedish woman masseur.’
‘By the way, I haven’t said thanks for paying for me to go as well. It was a wonderful day – apart from the weirdo and the lack of seaweed treatment.’ I took a spoon from the worktop and tasted the sauce.
‘Actually, I didn’t pay for yours.’ He pulled four pasta bowls from the cupboard and filled them with linguine.
Grabbing some cutlery from the drawer, I shot him a questioning glance. ‘Who did, then?’
‘Kalem.’
‘Why?’ I frowned.
‘Dunno, he insisted.’ Atila shrugged as the doorbell rang. ‘Oh, that’s probably him now.’
Ayshe stomped off. ‘I’ll get it.’
‘Whaaat?’ Kalem said as soon as she had filled him in. ‘Have you reported it?’ He walked into the kitchen, looking from Ayshe to me, apprehension clouding his eyes. ‘Are you both OK?
‘Yes and yes.’ I slumped down at the table, exhausted.
‘Will you have to go to court?’ Kalem lowered himself into a chair next to me.
‘I’m not sure.’ I shrugged, then grated some parmesan on top of my pasta. ‘He admitted it, so probably not, which is good.’
Kalem put his hand on my arm and gave me a look which I couldn’t quite work out. ‘I feel terrible.’
‘Why?’ I gulped hard as a surge of electricity shot up my body.
‘Well, I was the one who suggested it to Atila. I thought it would be a nice surprise for you both.’ He took his hand away.
‘And you paid for me?’ I wound some pasta in between my fork and spoon but it fell off and splattered onto the table. ‘Oops.’ I reached for my napkin.
Kalem pushed me back down. ‘No, I’ll do it.’ When he’d soaked up the mess, he looked down at his meal. ‘Yes, I paid for you.
‘Thanks very much, it was very kind of you, but why?’ I gazed into his eyes. ‘I could have paid for myself.’ Did he have feelings for me after all?
‘Well...I thought with all the ridiculous things you’ve been doing lately, you could do with a bit of time to relax your mind, as well as your body, and get your life into perspective. What better place to do that than at a health farm? You are like a sister to me after all, and Atila wouldn’t let me pay for Ayshe, so I thought I’d do the next best thing. Even I didn’t think you could get into any trouble there.’ He shook his head. ‘Boy, how wrong I was.’
So that was it. A brotherly gesture. Disappointment flooded through my veins.
‘You’ll never guess what else Helen got up to today,’ Ayshe said.
I elbowed her in the ribs.
‘Hmm, let me guess.’ Kalem put his fingertips to his temples. ‘She single-handedly set the building on fire?’
‘No,’ Ayshe grinned.
I frowned at her.
‘She staged a political coup?’ Kalem asked.
‘She flashed her boob at a couple of old perverts!’ Ayshe giggled.
‘What?’ Kalem shrieked at me. ‘Are you on drugs?’
I coughed. ‘It’s not what you think. It was an–’
‘What the hell were you thinking?’ A vein pulsed in his neck.
I gasped. ‘Well…it was an–’
‘You’re obviously not content with bloody streaking round Tesco and mooning over the frozen veg; you have to go one step further and flash the rest of you off to some dirty old men.’ He narrowed his eyes at me.
A lump rose in my throat. I swallowed. ‘Oh, so you um…saw that then, did you?’
‘Saw it?’ Kalem leapt off the chair, his six foot frame looming over the table. ‘Saw it? The whole bloody shop saw it!’ His voice cranked up to an ear-splitting decibel.
I opened my mouth and a nervous giggle slipped out.
‘You’re insane!’ Kalem shouted, throwing his napkin on the table. He glared at me with a fiery heat in his eyes. A minute passed. No one said anything. And then he strode out the door.
I gaped at the empty doorway, wondering about his very vocal and out-of-character display of animosity towards me because of what was, after all, an accident. Either it meant he thought I was some kind of compulsive naturist. Or worse…a lunatic. Or…even worse…he hated me.
We picked at our food half-heartedly in eerie silence.
‘Well, that was a conversation-killer,’ Atila muttered eventually
‘What’s up with Kalem?’ Ayshe threw me a questioning look.
I shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’
She reclined in the chair, folding her arms. ‘Well, something isn’t right. He’s not normally like that.’
‘He has been acting a bit weird lately.’ Atila nodded.
‘Is there something going on between you two?’ Ayshe said to me.
Oh crap! Ayshe could usually read me like a book. Had she guessed my secret?
‘No!’ I said, hoping I didn’t look as guilty as I felt. ‘Maybe Atila knows what’s wrong with him.’ I glanced at Atila, trying to deflect the conversation away from me.
‘Beats me.’
‘If nothing’s going on, why are you looking so guilty?’ Ayshe concentrated her gaze on me with thoughtful eyes.
I shifted in my chair. ‘I’m not.’
‘Did something happen the night of the dinner party?’ she carried on.
‘No!’ I said, painfully aware that I was beginning to sound like a stuck record
‘I know what it is.’ She narrowed her eyes slightly.
Double crap! I averted my gaze and fiddled with my napkin.
‘You two have had a row, haven’t you?’
I breathed an invisible sigh of relief. ‘No.’
‘Hmm.’ Ayshe didn’t sound convinced.
‘So, that clears that up. Kalem’s acting weird, but we don’t know why,’ Atila said.
‘I think I need a drink.’ Ayshe cleared the half-eaten plates and brought out some wine for all of us. ‘So, are you looking forward to your date with Nick tomorrow?’
Although I’d liked Nick, now my emotions were all topsy-turvy and facing in a completely unexpected direction, I didn’t know what to think anymore. ‘I suppose so.’ I gulped my drink, thankful that she’d finally changed the subject.
And then it hit me. What had been the whole point of this life-changing challenge? I realized I had gone completely off-track. When I thought about it, that was exactly what this thing had really been about: forcing yourself to do out of the ordinary things, regardless of whether, deep down, you really wanted to or not, because one thing would always lead to another, and so on and so on. Everything you did always had a knock-on effect, and when you got down to it, the trouble with life was that it would always be full of unexpected inconsistencies. When Ayshe used to tell me, ‘you never know what’s round the corner’, part of me used to hate her for it because – well, wasn’t that always what people who were happy and contented said to people who weren’t? She had Atila and her life was moving on. She was getting married and would live happy ever after. Hopefully. But what I really needed to do, regardless of how I felt about Kalem, was to just get busy with my life, and maybe then I could just forget about him.
‘Right, let’s talk about the wedding
for a change.’ Ayshe rested her hand on Atila’s knee.
‘What, again?’ Atila muttered.
‘So, Saturday night, you are staying with Kalem.’ She poked him in the leg. ‘And Helen is staying with me. Sunday morning at o-seven-forty-five hours precisely, we will arise,’ she sniggered.
‘You mean get up.’ I twirled my hair around my fingers, whilst I concentrated on her.
She nodded. ‘Exactly, this thing has to go like clockwork.’
‘You’re not arranging one of your bloody board meetings,’ Atila said.
‘I know, but these things have to be organized well, you know. I don’t want to be late to my own wedding – I know it’s the bride’s prerogative and all that, but still, I want to be on time.’
‘Go on, then, what happens after you arise?’ he asked.
‘Helen brings me breakfast in bed.’ She looked smug.
‘What? That’s not in the rules is it?’
She tilted her head. ‘I think smoked salmon and scrambled eggs should do it,’ she garbled on without pausing for breath. ‘Then we’ve got all morning to do hair and make-up and girly stuff. Leila is coming round at twelve. Kalem’s picking up the flowers at twelve and bringing them here. No doubt Mum and Dad will be popping in.’ She hesitated. ‘Oh, I hope Dad doesn’t start drinking until after the service.’
‘I think your dad’s funny when he’s had a few. He could liven it up a bit.’
She ignored me and steamed on. ‘You’ve got to take piccies while we’re getting ready.’ She pointed at me. ‘And then off to the Priory for three o’clock. Now, because you’ll be doing photos during the ceremony.’ She pointed at me again, ‘Leila will be sorting out the bridesmaid stuff when we get there.’ She sat back, finally complete. ‘Is that all understood?’ She looked at everyone for confirmation.
‘Yes, miss.’ I saluted her.
‘I’ve got to pick the dresses up tomorrow, as well. I forgot to mention that bit. And you’ve got to get the suits.’ She pointed at Atila.
‘And I’ve got a pre-wedding surprise for you in town on Saturday morning. So be ready at eleven. OK, Mrs. But?’ I pointed at her this time and stood up. ‘I’m going to shoot off. With all the excitement today, I need to sleep for a week.’ I yawned and kissed everyone Turkish-style on both cheeks.