Romantic Comedy Box Set (Helen Grey Series Books 1 & 2)

by Hodge, Sibel

  ‘Just for Women magazine! Oh, you should have said. That’s wonderful. I buy it every month,’ she gushed.

  Was there even such a magazine? I’d just made it up.

  She held her hand out to me, ready to shake. ‘It’s so lovely to meet someone from the magazine. If there’s anything you need, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to ask me.’

  She tilted her head, waiting for me to ask something.

  ‘Well, I’m definitely going to give this spa a mention.’ I beamed at her.

  She clapped her hands together and gave me a smile so wide I could almost see what she had for breakfast. ‘Oh, that’s wonderful! I loved the article you did last month: How to Have the Best Orgasm.’

  ‘Great! I’m glad you liked it. I did that one.’ I gave her a conspiratorial wink.

  ‘You know – I never knew you could use a –’

  ‘So…man or woman?’ I cut her off, inclining my head to the treatment room, waiting for an answer.

  ‘Oh, it’s a woman in there, madam.’

  ‘OK, thanks very much. You’ve been very helpful.’

  ‘Are you her assistant?’ she asked Charlie.

  ‘I’m the magazine make-up artist.’ Charlie flicked an imaginary stray hair off his forehead.

  She clapped her hands together again. ‘This is so exciting. How big will the piece be?’

  ‘What piece?’ What was she going on about?

  ‘The piece in the magazine about our spa.’

  ‘Ah! That piece. Er…I don’t know. I haven’t made up my mind yet.’ I smiled at her.

  Charlie peered at her make-up. ‘Very nice use of eyeliner.’

  She blushed. ‘Can you give me a sneak preview of what will be in the next issue?’

  I tapped my nose like it was a state secret. ‘It’s all very hush-hush. Wouldn’t want our rivals getting hold of it, would we?’

  We left her standing there with an excited expression on her face.

  Next up was the casino. Lots of gamblers who looked like they’d spent the night in there, but no Ferret Face.

  We took the lift to the rooftop swimming pool. More plants, heavy-duty wooden sunbeds with lush-looking beige cushions, swim-up bar, poolside bar, lots of oiled up guests. The place was heaving, to say the least.

  ‘Ooh, I love the shade of pink that couple has gone. What would you call that?’ Charlie whispered to me. ‘Pink Blush? Hot Tulip?’

  ‘More like Scorched Raisin, I think.’

  We scoured the whole area: The Perfect Couple with matching face lifts and other bits that defied the laws of gravity, the Tanned Couple who had their legs at uncomfortable looking angles to make sure they didn’t miss a spot, the Loud Couple with screaming kids that looked like they could star in The Omen film as a Damien stand-in. And lots of varying shades of Speedos, but no Ferret Face in any of them.

  We took the mirrored lift all the way back downstairs.

  ‘Are we ever going to find him?’ I stamped my foot.

  Four restaurants? Nope.

  Three other bars? Nope.

  Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he wasn’t even staying here. What did I know? I was just a wedding photographer, after all. It seemed like a good idea yesterday, but maybe it was all just a hopeless waste of time. Maybe we’d have to scour the whole of North Cyprus looking for him. The only problem was, we didn’t have enough time to do that before the opening night.

  ‘Let’s check the downstairs pool area.’ Charlie wandered back past reception again and outside.

  I put my sunglasses on and scanned the crowd, taking in the Olympic-size kidney-shaped pool, complete with a waterfall in the middle and a Jacuzzi at the side of it. Another pool bar. Hammocks. Giant cushions that you could easily fall asleep on if you didn’t have to worry about running round trying to find criminals.

  Past the pool and down a flight of steps, and we found ourselves staring at a huge stage area in front of the sea. Behind the stage was the hotel’s port, with several yachts that looked like they cost an arm and a leg – or maybe a whole army’s worth of arms and legs. A few other smaller speedboats bobbed around in between them, lowering the tone a bit. To our right and left were a host of outdoor bars and restaurants.

  ‘I’m hot and thirsty.’ I stomped towards the stage bar and collapsed onto a cream sofa so soft that I almost got swallowed up in it, like I’d been attacked by a giant marshmallow. ‘This was a ridiculous idea. We’re never going to find him.’

  Charlie patted my knee. ‘Don’t give up hope. I’ll get some drinks. Back in a jiffy.’ He darted off.

  I flopped my head back on the chair, people-watching the crowd.

  Suddenly I sat up again.

  It was Ferret Face. Making his way down the steps with another man. A short, stocky, and very hairy man with really long arms who could have easily passed for a gorilla, or possibly the Missing Link between man and ape.

  I watched from behind my dark glasses as they approached the bar, ordered two glasses of amber-coloured liquid, and sat on another sofa about five metres away from me. They leaned together, heads almost touching, having some sort of animated conversation.

  Sit closer to me! Sit closer! Stupid people. Didn’t they know I wanted to listen to them?

  Charlie sat down with two glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice. Ferret Face and Co. were now directly behind him.

  ‘He’s over there,’ I hissed. ‘With another man. I bet it’s his accomplice.’ I rummaged in my bag, looking for my camera.

  Charlie turned around to get a look-see.

  ‘Don’t look at them!’ I pretended to take a photo of Charlie and zoomed in on Ferret Face and his friend behind him, snapping off a couple of pictures.

  They sipped their drinks slowly as we looked on, then stood up to leave.

  ‘Quick. We need to follow them.’ I stuffed my camera back in my bag and grabbed Charlie’s arm.

  They wandered up the stairs, past the pool, through Boutiquesville, and past reception with us following close behind.

  ‘Excuse me, madam!’ The receptionist from the other night called after me. ‘Ibrahim Kaya is in the building at the moment. I can ask him to come and speak with you about your nuts.’

  ‘No time! Will come back later.’ I waved at her and hotfooted it out to the car park, just in time to see Ferret Face and Missing Link heading up the drive in a black four-by-four of some kind.

  We jumped in the Land Rover and pulled out onto the main road, following a few car lengths behind. What was the usual distance for tailing a car? Directly behind? One car behind? Two? What if we lost them?

  I held my breath and overtook one car, just in case. Right, now they were just one car in front.

  Ferret Face raced over a roundabout and headed towards town, just as the last of the dusk turned into night.

  Charlie grabbed the door handle as I raced behind Ferret Face, trying to keep up with him. ‘You go, girl.’ Then something caught his eye. ‘Hey! Another wedding dress shop!’ He pointed out the window. ‘Must check that out later.’

  ‘Ouch!’ I whacked my head on the roof as we bounced along over a speed hump. ‘Where’s he going?’

  We drove through the narrow streets in the centre of Kyrenia, and Ferret Face took a sharp right turn. Then he parked up and they got out.

  I drove past the four by four, eyes scanning around for a parking spot.

  Charlie pointed. ‘There, further up.’

  We jumped out of the Land Rover without bothering to lock it and followed them on foot all the way to the harbour.

  They passed some open air cafés and then turned into one next to the sea.

  ‘Maybe they’re getting another drink,’ I said.

  But no. They walked through the bar area and opened a wooden gateway at the end that led to the gang plank of a very expensive looking yacht, sandwiched in between a traditional Turkish gulet boat and a fishing boat.

  We plonked ourselves down in the café and watched them climb aboard the
yacht, which had the words The Israelite on it. They slid open a darkly tinted patio door and disappeared inside. A few minutes later, we saw them appear on the roof deck with an older man. As they sat down, we could barely see the tops of their heads.

  ‘I need to get closer,’ I whispered. ‘I can’t see or hear anything.’

  ‘OK, I’ll stay here in case they leave.’

  The gulet to the right of the yacht had two couples on it, drinking wine. I heard the clink of glasses and soft laughter. The fishing boat to the left was in darkness, so I crept through the gate towards it. The good news was that it looked empty. The bad news was that it stunk of fishiness.

  I pinched my nose and crept up the gangplank, keeping a beady eye on the yacht to my right. The fishing boat bobbed a little under my weight as I slipped onto the wooden deck.

  From here I couldn’t even see the tops of their heads anymore. I needed to get even closer. Making my way past the cabin, I eased up the deck. Now I was close enough to touch the side of the gleaming white yacht. The fishy smell was even stronger here. Yuck!

  The yacht had a lifebuoy dangling from the railings on the top deck above me. If I could just grab on to it, I could pull myself up higher to be in prime listening position against the side of the yacht.

  I reached up, but it was a teensy bit too high. OK, only one thing for it.

  I climbed onto the railings of the fishing boat, hands against the side of the yacht, trying to keep my balance as I lifted up on my tiptoes. Come on. Come on. Yes!

  I snared the buoy in my right hand. So far, so good. From this position I could just about make out what they were saying.

  ‘We’re going to the Sultan’s Palace restaurant after this,’ one of the men said.

  ‘Make sure you try the lobster. It’s the best on the island,’ another one said in a gravelly voice.

  ‘Good idea.’ I recognized Ferret Face’s voice. ‘After that I’m going to the stage bar at the Plaza. They’ve got the best vintage Courvoisier there.’

  Oh, who gives a shit what you’re going to eat and drink. Get to the good bit!

  ‘I want this to go like clockwork,’ Gravelly Voice again.

  ‘Don’t worry, Mr. P, we’ve got it all covered.’ The other one spoke again, and I was guessing it was Missing Link. ‘I’ve already hacked into the hotel’s security system and covered my tracks. It won’t show any disturbance to their security features at all. They won’t have a clue that we’ve intercepted their security system. As soon as he fires the shot to kill Kaya, the security system is set to completely disarm the lasers on the outside of the statue case, and the glass casing below will slide down. The shot will cause a distraction. It will be a full-scale panic. People will be running away, screaming, and all the guards will rush to Kaya, who will be on the stage in front of the port.’

  ‘Excellent. Excellent.’ I heard the excitement in Gravelly Voice’s words.

  ‘Then I’ll take the statue from the stage area and jump onto the speedboat, waiting at the port,’ Missing Link carried on.

  ‘But what if the guards don’t leave their post at the statue?’ Gravelly Voice asked.

  I took a sharp intake of breath. It sounded like an explosion in my ears, but they didn’t seem to hear it because they carried on talking.

  ‘I’ll shoot them as well if I have to.’ Ferret Face this time. He sounded like he’d enjoy doing it too. ‘My bedroom is in prime sniper position overlooking the stage area. Don’t worry. Even if the shot to kill Kaya doesn’t distract the guards, I will have a clear shot of anyone getting in my way.’

  I gulped.

  ‘Just make sure you kill Kaya,’ Gravelly Voice said. ‘He can’t double-cross me and get away with it. That hotel was supposed to be mine. My plans. My idea. And soon, it will be mine with Kaya out of the way. I’m going to take over his business empire, piece by piece, just like he did when he tried to ruin me.’ He followed with a throaty chuckle.

  ‘It’s a done deal, Mr. P,’ Ferret Face said. ‘You don’t have to worry about a thing.’

  ‘Good. It had better be. I didn’t pay you half a million for nothing.’ Gravelly Voice again. ‘Tomorrow my biggest enemy will be out of the way, and Kaya’s precious little statue will be en route to the art dealer in South Cyprus. Bye bye.’ He chuckled again.

  Another gulet suddenly chugged into the harbour with a rowdy bunch of tourists. Music blared away as they danced on the top deck.

  Oh, shut up. I want to listen! I strained my ears, trying to make out more conversation.

  The party boat turned around, repositioning itself to reverse into a spot further up the harbour, sending the water bouncing up and down, bumping against the fishing boat.

  As the fishing boat dipped down on a wave, I lost my grip on the buoy and catapulted backwards off the railings, legs shooting in the air like I was a human cannonball being launched.

  ‘Agh!’ I landed backside first in a large plastic box of fish and crabs in front of the cabin.

  I rolled over onto my back and tried to sit up, but the slimy wet fish seemed to keep sucking me back into a slippery abyss. One of the crabs clawed at my hair and another attacked my legs.

  ‘Help!’ My arms and legs flailed in the air, trying to grab something to hold onto so I could pull myself out. ‘Ouch!’ A crab nipped my bum. God, that really hurt!

  I heard a thudding noise from the engine room below as someone ran up the stairs, and a fisherman appeared, looming over me.

  ‘What the–?’ He frowned at me and held his hand out.

  I grabbed it, and he pulled me out of the box. ‘Thanks!’ I twisted around to look at my bum, which now had a crab hanging off, its barnacle-encrusted pincers locked firmly on. ‘Oh, my God! Get it off, get it off!’ I thrust my bum towards the fisherman, vaguely aware that the people in the harbour had stopped talking and were all turning to gawp at me. ‘Ooh, hurry up! It hurts,’ I said to the fisherman, who seemed to be taking a long time to prise the thing off me. Maybe he was enjoying it. Pervert!

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ferret Face, Missing Link, and Gravelly Voice leaning over the top deck of the yacht, pointing and laughing at me.

  Great.

  I heard a crunching sound as the fisherman pulled the crab off.

  I twisted around again to make sure it had gone. Yep, no crab. I rubbed the spot where it had clung on for dear life, wondering if it had actually taken a chunk out. Did crabs eat humans? I didn’t have a clue. Maybe it was a killer crab.

  I shuddered.

  The fisherman eyed my backside with appreciation. ‘That is a dangerous red crab.’

  I gulped. ‘How dangerous?’

  Gravelly Voice leaned on the railings of his boat, looking down at us and watching the show.

  ‘Very,’ the fisherman said. ‘You’ve only got ten minutes to get to the nearest hospital.’

  I felt a warm glow crawling up my legs. No! It had started already. The poison must be seeping through my veins. ‘How far away is the nearest hospital?’ I cried.

  ‘Fifteen minutes away.’ The fisherman let out a smutty chuckle. ‘Want me to suck out the poison?’

  Missing Link thought this was hilarious, leaning his head back and howling up to the sky.

  See, I was right. In fact, he could’ve been a close relative of that giant hairy man who lived in the woods; what was his name? Oh, yes. Bigfoot!

  ‘Yoo hoo!’ Charlie climbed aboard to the rescue. ‘Oh there you are.’ He winked at me. ‘I thought I’d lost you. Come along.’ He linked my arm and tried to steer me off the boat.

  The fisherman blocked our path. ‘Hey, not so fast. What are you doing on my boat interfering with my crabs?’

  I opened my mouth to say that the crab actually interfered with me, but thought better of it and clamped it shut again.

  ‘I get it. You’re from that big fishing company, aren’t you? Trying to steal my catch again and force me to sell out, aren’t you?’ He narrowed his eyes at us. ‘I’ve had en
ough of–’

  ‘No, we’re from the…Turtle Project.’ I interrupted, straightening myself up and dusting off my clothes, trying for my best authoritative look. ‘We’ve had a report of a turtle on one of these boats in the harbour, and we’re just checking it out,’

  He frowned.

  ‘Have you seen one?’ I asked him, covertly rubbing my bum.

  Missing Link howled even louder. ‘How is a turtle supposed to get on a boat?’

  ‘I saw one earlier,’ Gravelly Voice shouted down at us. ‘Yes, I saw it leaving the Chinese restaurant with a bag of seaweed. It just left on a Jet Ski.’ He pointed out to sea, trying to contain his amusement and failing.

  Missing Link nearly wet himself. Ferret Face slapped the railings of the yacht, tears streaming down his face. The fisherman cackled.

  OK, OK, it’s not that funny.

  ‘Right, well, if you see one, please let the Turtle Project know.’ I gave the fisherman a haughty look.

  He stepped aside and let us pass.

  Charlie wrinkled up his nose at me. ‘You stink.’

  ‘Well so would you if you’d been squished in fishiness,’ I huffed as we bolted out of the harbour with a hundred pairs of eyes following us. ‘Do you think that’s what Osman’s mum saw with the fish in the Turkish coffee cup?’

  Charlie shrugged.

  ‘God, what if everything else she said comes true?’ A chill slithered through my bones.

  ‘You don’t really believe in all that, do you?’

  ‘Of course not! Don’t be ridiculous!’ I didn’t want to even contemplate it. I ran a hand over my matted, squelchy hair. ‘Have I got crab poop in it?’

  ‘Do crabs poop?’

  ‘I don’t know, but I can feel something in it.’ I waved a hand in front of my face to try and disperse the smell. ‘I need a shower. Can you drop me off at our hotel and pick up Kalem from his parents’ house for me?’

  ‘You need more than a shower. You need a decontamination chamber.’

  ‘Do you think it was a poisonous crab?’

  ‘No. No such thing.’

  I guessed that I’d find out in about another five minutes.