Nina roused her gently snoring grandmother, leaving her to light up a cigarette (she never knew her grandmother smoked until Gran had bought those cigarettes at the airport), while she supervised the unloading of their cases, checking carefully to ensure she’d been given the correct ones. The last thing she wanted was to get to her room to find she had the clothes belonging to one of the middle-aged women who’d been hogging the coveted front seats. Nina hated travelling by bus, and the journey would have been much more tolerable if she could have sat in the front, being able to see where she was going – or maybe not. Rock walls, steep drops, overloaded mopeds… Nina shuddered.
The hotel reception was a pleasant surprise, all marbled floor and walls, and polished wooden desk. And cool too. The air-con on the bus had been less than effective, and the flower-scented, slightly chilled reception area soothed her over-tired nerves and overly-sticky skin.
Her gran seemed none the worse for the journey, happily filling in the registration details and signing her name with a flourish. The staff, Nina saw, wore huge smiles, and everyone, including the cleaning ladies who were sweeping the floor with short-handled brushes, stopped to greet her grandmother. They mostly ignored Nina. She wasn’t bothered; it was just refreshing to see a culture which seemed to revere the elderly. Britain could certainly take a leaf out of Turkey’s book.
One of the reception staff handed Flossie a key. ‘Room 216,’ he said.
Nina waited to be given hers.
And waited.
‘Is there something else I can help you with?’ the man asked her.
‘My key?’ Nina looked at the array of pigeon-holes, wondering which one contained the key to her room. She hoped she’d be given a room close to her grandmother.
‘I have given it to the other lady,’ he said.
‘My grandmother has my key as well as her own?’
‘Your grandmother has the key, yes.’
‘Oh, that’s – hang on, did you say the key? There’s only one key?’ Nina was tired, but she was certain she heard him correctly.
The immaculately uniformed, professionally smiling young man replied slowly, as if she was as hard of hearing as her grandmother (though Gran’s deafness tended to come and go when it suited her). ‘There is only one key for each room, madam.’
Madam, he called me madam, was all Nina could think about. Since when had “miss” become “madam”? Surely, she wasn’t that old! Mind you, she thought, the man in question was barely older than the kids in her A-level class, so anything over twenty was bound to appear old to him.
‘Nina? What’s the matter?’ Flossie sounded impatient. Another equally young man waited next to her, their luggage at his feet.
‘I need my key.’
‘I’ve got it,’ Flossie said and Nina tutted; something had obviously gotten lost in translation.
‘You’ve got it?’ she confirmed.
‘I just said so. Come on, I want to get my head down for a couple of hours before breakfast.’
Nina let the bellboy lead the way. She would have preferred to wheel her own suitcase but was too tired to argue. He led them along well-tended twisting paths, and Nina quickly became disorientated, and was grateful for his guidance.
From what Nina could make out, the hotel consisted of a main building where reception was housed, a courtyard beyond which was filled with tinkling fountains, and a series of two-storey blocks of rooms. She spied other buildings through the bushes and trees dotting the hotel grounds, but had no idea what they were, and looked forward to finding out in the morning (this was technically the morning, but since she hadn’t been to bed yet, it didn’t count).
Flossie’s room was on the top floor, and Nina hoped hers was close by so she could keep an eye on the old lady.
‘216,’ the young man said, in heavily accented English, and he opened the door with a flourish.
‘It’s lovely, Gran,’ Nina said, following the bellboy and her grandmother inside.
Two single beds (towels in the shape of a bird artfully arranged on each of them), a TV, a couple of easy chairs, a bathroom with a walk-in shower, and a glimpse of the pool beyond the doors leading to the balcony – she hoped her own room would be as nice.
The boy dropped the cases on the floor, showed them how the air-con worked (Nina told Flossie to leave it on because the room was quite warm already – goodness knows what it would be like when the sun really came up), and waited while her gran dug in her purse for some Turkish money.
‘Enjoy your stay,’ the boy said, pocketing the note with alacrity, before disappearing out of the door with a big smile on his face. Nina wondered exactly how much Grannie had tipped him.
‘Wait, what about my room?’ Nina hissed after him, trying to keep her voice down, conscious of the sleeping occupants in neighbouring rooms. Too late. He had gone.
‘What are you on about, dear?’ Flossie demanded, throwing open the balcony doors and lighting another cigarette.
Nina waved at the air in front of her face and coughed dramatically.
‘Oh, loosen up,’ Flossie grumbled, stepping outside. ‘Everyone smokes over here.’
Nina didn’t care what everyone else got up to, she just wanted the key to her room. A cup of tea (she’d brought some Tetley tea bags with her), a quick shower and a sleep, that’s what she needed.
‘My key,’ she prompted. ‘He said you had it.’
Flossie gave her an exasperated look. ‘It’s there.’ She pointed to the key sitting on top of a chest of drawers.
‘Finally!’ Nina scooped it up and looked at the number. ‘216,’ she said. ‘This is your key.’
‘It’s yours, too.’
‘I want my own.’
Flossie stubbed her cigarette out in the ashtray on the little table on the balcony, and turned to her. ‘Well, you can’t have one,’ she said. ‘You heard what the man on reception said, one room, one key.’
It took some time for the penny to drop, and for an intelligent woman, Nina was aware she sometimes tended to miss the obvious.
‘We’re sharing, aren’t we?’ she said, closing her eyes when she realised. Mum, she thought, I’m going to kill you when I get home. ‘I thought you said you’d sorted out separate rooms?’
‘No. I forgot.’ Flossie’s eyes were wide and innocent. ‘Look on the bright side, single rooms wouldn’t be this nice, and you didn’t think you were going to get a room like this all to yourself, did you, not with the prices they charge. Under-occupancy fee, my arse!’
That’s exactly what Nina had thought. And that’s exactly what she would have got if this was a Premier Inn. Premier Inns didn’t expect people to share if they didn’t want to. She knew she should have accompanied her gran when the old woman had gone to the travel agent to amend the booking.
At least there were single beds – the thought of being spooned by her inebriated grandmother made Nina wince.
‘Come and look at the view,’ Flossie commanded, and Nina let her change the subject. There was nothing to be done about it now, so she might as well make the best of it. Besides, her gran didn’t need reminding the bed Nina was going to sleep in had been intended for Flossie’s husband, and Nina felt a bit of a heel for making such a fuss.
Their balcony overlooked the pool, and what a lovely pool it was. Free-form was the description in the brochure, Nina recalled, staring at its curving lines and turquoise water. The pool was illuminated from below and there must be lights in the bottom, she surmised, hoping there were no sharp edges to scratch unwary feet.
The grounds, what she could see of them, appeared to be lovely too, with plenty of space between the sun loungers, and lots of umbrellas. Flowering trees and shrubs lined the paved walkways and grew against the white walls of the lower storeys. The grass was well-tended, and Nina noticed the sprinklers were on now.
The place seemed nice, she decided, glad her mother had talked her into coming. Sort of.
She remained on the balcony drinking in the si
ghts and sounds of a foreign country, while Gran got ready for bed.
‘Don’t forget to set the alarm,’ Flossie said, coming out of the bathroom with curlers in her hair and wearing a flannelette nightie. Thankfully she still had her false teeth in, so Nina wouldn’t be faced with the sight of a pair of gnashers in a glass – not today, anyway, though tonight might be a different matter entirely. The only thing Nina wanted to see in a glass was a cocktail, and maybe a piece of fruit at a push.
‘Don’t forget Turkey is two hours ahead of us, so change the time on your watch,’ Gran instructed.
‘Why the alarm?’ Nina asked, making sure both her phone and her watch had automatically picked up Turkish time (they had).
‘I don’t want to miss breakfast,’ Flossie said.
‘Snacks are available all day, aren’t they?’ Nina argued, looking longingly at the beds. Once she slipped inside those cool, cotton sheets she had no intention of crawling back out until she was good and ready.
‘I like breakfast,’ Flossie retorted. ‘It’s the most important meal of the day. Besides, if I don’t eat regularly, I get constipated.’
Gross! TMI, Gran, Nina thought, TMI.
‘Okay, I’ll set the alarm on my phone,’ Nina said, silently cursing the old woman. It was alright for Gran, who’d slept on the plane (only waking up when the drink trolley trundled past) and again on the coach. Nina had been awake since seven o’clock yesterday morning. Nearly twenty-four hours. It felt more like forty-eight; her eyes were gritty, her lids were heavy, and her brain was filled with cotton wool. She hoped if she slept for a couple of hours, it would tide her over until tonight. She’d go to bed about ten-ish – earlier if Gran couldn’t stand the pace.
At least the hotel was lovely and quiet, so sleeping shouldn’t be a problem, and she couldn’t imagine a bunch of wrinklies staying up until the early hours whipping up a storm. I bet this place is dead by midnight, Nina thought happily. She had never been one for staying up late and partying, being too conscious of having to get up for school on a weekday and not wanting to waste a weekend by having a hangover or sleeping in late. And she didn’t like to mess her routine up in the school holidays, because it was always difficult to get back into the rhythm of early rising once the new term started. She didn’t often give in and let her hair down.
Anyway, maybe she could have a snooze on the sun-lounger, or nip back to their room for an afternoon nap. She suspected Gran would also give in to temptation and have a little sleep, too.
After she completed her own bedtime routine (quick shower, brush teeth, and not forgetting to cleanse, tone, and moisturise) Nina pulled the sheet back and clambered into bed. Her grandmother was already out for the count, snoring slightly, and Nina smiled at her before snuggling down.
‘Hope you have a good time, Gran,’ she whispered. After all, that’s why they were here, wasn’t it, because the old lady needed cheering up. Nina just hoped her grandmother wouldn’t find her too young and lively, and she made a promise to the slumbering old lady to take it easy and to try not to forget how set in their ways elderly people could be.
Chapter 4
Loud Turkish voices dragged Nina from the depths of sleep. She turned over, pulled the pillow around her head, and grumbled, ‘Turn it down, Gran.’
‘I think it’s the news. I always watch the news.’
Nina sat up reluctantly, rubbing her eyes. ‘It’s in Turkish,’ she pointed out. ‘You don’t speak a word.’
‘I can watch the pictures, can’t I? I can get the gist of what they’re saying from those. Ooh, look, they’re talking about football. See?’
‘Great.’ Nina admitted defeat and got out of bed. ‘What’s the time?’
‘Half past eight,’ Gran said, her backside in the air and her head buried in her suitcase.
Nina groaned. They’d been asleep less than two hours. She blinked blearily and let out a huge yawn. ‘You go. I’ll have another hour in bed.’
‘There’s plenty of time for sleeping when you’re dead,’ Flossie announced. ‘What do you think?’
‘I think I need more sleep,’ Nina replied, anxious to avoid the “D” word or anything associated with it. Her grandmother was so blasé about Grandad’s death and her own mortality, but Nina felt uncomfortable talking about it. She didn’t even want to think about it, yet it was one of Flossie’s favourite topics of conversation. She was forever phoning Nina to tell her who had passed on.
‘Guess who’s died?’ she’d ask with a dark, self-satisfied glee. Nina could only assume her grandmother was chuffed she’d managed to outlive the poor, unfortunate deceased.
‘No idea,’ Nina would say.
‘Mrs Thingamy-bob from down the road. You know… her with the limp and a sister who lives in Cheshire,’ Flossie would reply, leaving Nina none the wiser.
‘I wasn’t talking about more sleep. I was talking about this.’ Flossie held up a fluorescent yellow tunic with tassels on the hem.
‘What is it?’ Nina squinted hard. It looked like some kind of hippy tablecloth.
‘I bought it to slip on over my cozzie,’ Gran said. ‘I’ll show you,’ she added and reached for the hem of her nightie.
Nina dashed to the bathroom, making a grab for her own suitcase on the way past, and reached the door in three huge strides (faster than Usain Bolt on a really good day). There was no way on earth she wanted to see her grandmother naked.
‘I’ll have a quick shower and find my swimming costume. Then we’ll go for breakfast, yeah? Will you be ready by the time I’m done?’ Nina called through the firmly-closed bathroom door.
She turned the water on, pinned her short bob back as best she could, and stepped into the cubicle, not really needing another wash, since she’d only had one a couple of hours ago, but wanting to give her grandmother as much time as possible to get dressed.
She’d barely lathered up before Flossie banged on the door.
‘Your phone is making a funny noise,’ her grandmother yelled. ‘I think there’s something wrong with it. Shall I ask reception to find a man to come and fix it?’
‘I’ll get a man to come and fix you,’ Nina muttered before calling back, ‘I’ll be out in a minute.’
‘It sounds like someone’s in pain. There’s all this moaning coming from it.’
‘It’s whale song,’ Nina shouted.
‘I can’t turn it off.’
‘Press the button that says snooze, Gran.’
‘Eh?’
‘Press the – never mind, I’ll be out in a second.’
She hastily rinsed off, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her chest, tucking it in place under her armpits, and opened the door to see Flossie clutching the hotel phone in one hand and Nina’s mobile in the other. Nina snatched the receiver out of her grandmother’s hand and slammed it back on its base, hoping she hadn’t cut anyone off mid-sentence. Whale song filled the room, but for once Nina failed to find it soothing. She grabbed her phone, stabbed at it, and was rewarded with silence.
‘What was wrong with it?’ Flossie demanded.
‘Nothing,’ Nina replied through a slightly clenched jaw. ‘It was just my alarm, Gran. You told me to put it on, remember?’
‘It didn’t sound like an alarm,’ the older woman grumbled.
‘It’s whale song,’ Nina repeated.
‘Never heard of ’em. In my day people sang proper songs – none of this rubbish you hear now-a-days. I couldn’t understand a word they were saying, and they couldn’t carry a tune either.’
Nina changed the subject. ‘Nice tunic,’ she said, thinking she should have put her sunglasses on before she looked at it. It was so bright it had probably damaged her corneas. The colour positively burned her eyeballs, but at least it covered her grandmother up, as did the very large, very floppy white hat and the oversized sunglasses. Flossie reminded Nina of an old, saggy Sophia Loren.
‘I could murder a cuppa,’ Flossie announced. ‘Ready?’
Nina gav
e the old woman a disbelieving look. She still had a bath towel wrapped around her modesty and she hadn’t even found her swimming costume yet. Did she look bloody ready?
‘Hang on,’ she said, resisting the urge to grit her teeth. She had a feeling this holiday was going to feel considerably longer than the fourteen days it professed to be. She’d need another holiday afterwards to recover from this one. Her grandmother was proving to be hard work already!
Back in the bathroom Nina found her costume and put it on. The black fabric looked a little stark against her too-pale skin but there hadn’t been that many cozzies to choose from so late in the season. Especially since she had been searching for one which didn’t make her seem as though she was about to take part in a fifty-metre free style competition, or one which was made for someone her Gran’s age. It might be early August, but the shops were already selling off their summer stuff. The bright colours and light fabrics were now squashed together on the sale rails, like so many abandoned birds of paradise. Their uncoordinated, random-sized chaos made her feel slightly nauseous at the prospect of ploughing through them, whilst the rest of the shop sported pullovers in autumn colours and knee-high boots. They even had “return to school” stuff out, when the actual start of term wasn’t for another four weeks and two days, if the teacher training days were included (not that she was counting).
It was lucky that, given a choice, Nina would have picked black anyway, and this one wasn’t all pull-you-in and push-you-up, but neither was it too revealing. She’d bought another very similar one, but it was lower cut at the back and she wasn’t sure she was ready to bare that much white skin just yet.
A pair of shorts, a T-shirt, and flip flops completed her outfit – she was good to go.
She stopped dead when she opened the bathroom door to see the four inch, gold coloured, wedged sandals on Flossie’s gnarled feet.
‘You’re not wearing those,’ she protested. ‘Are you?’
‘Why not?’ Flossie shoved her sunglasses to the top of her head and peered down at her feet. ‘What’s wrong with them?’
Summer on the Turquoise Coast Page 3