by Simon Brett
As soon as she had finished unpacking and put on a load of washing, she rang through to Fulham.
Gaby sounded extremely perky when she answered the phone. In the background, Lily could be heard chattering away nineteen to the dozen.
‘Just checking in.’
‘Oh yes?’
‘To say I’m safely back from Turkey.’
‘Ah.’ Gaby had clearly forgotten her mother-in-law had been away, but covered the lapse very quickly. ‘Oh, great. Did you have a good time?’
‘Very good, thank you,’ said Carole, surprising herself actually to be telling the truth. ‘And how have you been?’
‘Fine.’
‘I meant about the pregnancy.’
‘That’s fine too. Still pregnant, everything where it should be.’
‘No more sickness?’
‘No, thank the Lord.’
‘And Stephen’s in good form?’
‘Oh, as ever. You know Stephen.’
‘Yes,’ said Carole, though she sometimes wondered whether she actually did. ‘Any other news?’
‘Not really.’
Carole still wasn’t sure whether the teddy bear with Union Jack shorts was a suitable present for her granddaughter, or whether it was too common, but she made the decision quickly and said, ‘I did buy a little something for Lily.’
‘Oh, she’ll be delighted.’
‘And I thought I could give it to her when I next see you.’
‘Great.’
‘Which I hope will be very soon.’ And it was a measure of how much the holiday had done for her confidence that Carole then went on to ask, ‘I wonder, are you around this coming weekend? If you are, I could come up on Sunday.’
It was the first time she had ever invited herself to Fulham. Normally, she waited until an invitation had been issued. But the relaxed way in which Gaby said that would be great and they’d love to see her made Carole feel that her previous inhibitions had been unnecessary. And that brought rather a warm glow to her.
Then Gaby called out to ask if Lily would like to speak to Granny, and Carole got a very full and detailed account of everything that was happening in her granddaughter’s three-year-old life.
After the call had ended, Carole felt rather at a loose end. She still wasn’t out of holiday mood, and it seemed like the time to go out to one of Kayaköy’s bars for a drink.
So she rang Jude and suggested they pay a visit to the Crown and Anchor.
‘Blimey, you never got that tan in England,’ said Ted Crisp as they entered the bar.
‘No, it’s from Turkey,’ said Carole Seddon, the relaxed cosmopolitan traveller.
‘Oh,’ said Ted. ‘Yes, of course, you told me you were going. Incidentally, do you know what’s the best way to serve Turkey?’
‘We know that one,’ said Jude. ‘You’ve asked us before.’
‘Have I?’ said Ted, looking a little disturbed. Though his jokes were almost always dreadful, he prided himself on not telling them more than once to the same person. ‘What’s the answer then?’
‘Join the Turkish army,’ said Jude.
‘Oh damn, you did know it.’ Ted reached down to the wine fridge. ‘Two large Chilean Chardonnays, is it?’
‘No,’ said Carole boldly. ‘Could you make it two large Sauvignon Blancs?’
‘Bloody hell,’ said Ted Crisp.
And as the two women sat down at the bar to talk about their holiday in Turkey, Carole realized that, the whole time she’d been there, she hadn’t taken a single Imodium.