THE TOMB IN TURKEY
A Fethering Mystery
Simon Brett
To Jean,
with many thanks for keeping the
Brett Family Machine
running over the years
And with thanks to Recep and Clare
for their expertise on scuba diving
ONE
‘Go on holiday?’ Carole Seddon echoed in disbelief. ‘Why?’
She was totally amazed by her neighbour Jude’s suggestion. Holidays while she still had a full-time job at the Home Office had made some kind of sense. Carole had never enjoyed them much, either when she was married to David and they had family holidays with their son Stephen, or later after the divorce, but she could see the point of them then. Now, retired to the south-coast village of Fethering, itself a summer destination for day-trippers, why would she need a holiday?
‘Well, we could both do with a break,’ Jude said, the ghost of a smile lurking around her full lips.
‘A break from what?’ asked Carole testily.
‘Well, I know you think what I do is on the barmier side of black magic, but in fact being a healer brings its own stresses. It takes a lot out of me. I’ve had a continuous stream of clients in the past few months, and I am … not to put too fine a point on it … knackered.’
‘Maybe,’ said Carole, ‘but what about me? What would I be taking a break from?’
It was one of those rare moments when Carole Seddon was almost playing for sympathy. Though she always claimed when asked to be ‘busy, busy, busy’, there was an emptiness at her core. Apart from keeping her house High Tor at a level of cleanliness that would not have shamed an Intensive Care Unit, doing The Times crossword, and taking her Labrador Gulliver for long walks on Fethering Beach, there wasn’t a lot in her life. There were, of course, Stephen, his wife Gaby and Carole’s adored granddaughter Lily, but though they were only in Fulham, she didn’t see that much of them.
The fact was that Carole Seddon, after a good few years of it, still hadn’t properly adjusted to retirement. The Calvinist streak in her make-up made her feel that she should always be working. And beneath a pile of other resentments was the irksome memory that she had been retired early from the Home Office, and not at a time of her choosing. In her mind, for someone like her to contemplate taking a holiday would be the height of self-indulgence.
‘Why not,’ asked Jude, ‘take a holiday just for the hell of it?’
‘I don’t,’ replied Carole primly, ‘do anything just for the hell of it.’
Which was exactly the answer Jude could have predicted. With a grin she went on, ‘Well, I need a holiday.’
‘But you always seem to be going off for odd weekends for healing conventions, mind and body conferences, holistic workshops, reiki retreats …’ With the mention of each event, Carole had more difficulty in keeping the scepticism out of her voice.
‘What you don’t realize is that those things are part of my job—’
‘Huh.’
‘—and they’re actually quite hard work. It’s tiring, you know, networking, listening to lectures, catching up with the latest trends …’
But that only got another, ‘Huh.’
‘Anyway, given the offer of a free holiday, I’m going to take it.’
One word caught Carole’s attention. ‘Free?’
‘Well, free bar the flights. Free once we – or I – get there.’
Carole Seddon’s face took on the expression of a hanging judge. ‘Are you caught up in some timeshare scam, Jude?’ The words were italicized in best Daily Mail style.
‘No, of course I’m not! I just have a friend who owns a villa, and he’s offered me the use of it for a week or two.’
‘Free?’
‘Yes, I said free.’
‘Why?’
‘Why what?’
‘Why would he offer you the use of his villa free?’
‘Because he’s a friend.’
‘He’s not a friend of mine.’
‘No. You haven’t met him.’
‘Then why would he offer me a free week or two in his villa?’ The level of suspicion in Carole’s tone was mounting.
Jude’s tone, by contrast, was as near as it ever got to exasperated (which wasn’t very near). ‘He’s not offering you anything.’
‘Oh.’ Slightly miffed now.
‘He’s offered me the villa and, assuming that I don’t want to spend a fortnight on my own in foreign climes, he said I could invite a friend.’
‘Oh.’ Mollified.
‘Or a group of friends.’
‘Oh.’ Less mollified. The idea of finding herself on holiday with a bunch of people she didn’t know was one of Carole’s worst nightmares. The thought of having breakfast with them, making conversation, joining in with enforced jollity … it didn’t bear thinking of.
‘And so I thought I’d ask you first if you wanted to come.’
Carole remembered her manners. ‘Well, that’s very kind of you.’
‘But since you apparently don’t, I’ll—’
‘Ah, now I didn’t say that.’
‘You did as near as dammit. You said, “Why?” … in a way that implied you’d never heard a worse idea.’
‘Well, that may be how it came across, but it wasn’t quite how I meant it.’
‘Oh?’
‘I mean I’d like to know a bit more about the circumstances, about the gentleman who’s made you this generous offer.’
‘All right,’ said Jude. ‘His name’s Barney Willingdon. He’s a property developer, been very successful.’
‘Then why’s he offering the villa to you? You don’t normally deal with property developers, do you?’ Carole Seddon fixed her pale-blue eyes on her neighbour’s brown ones. ‘Is he someone … from your past?’
Jude knew exactly what the question meant. Her sex life had been quite varied over the years – though not as varied and busy as Carole always seemed to think it had been. She was being asked whether Barney Willingdon had ever been one of her lovers.
‘It’s nothing like that,’ she said, carefully avoiding a direct answer. ‘I’ve done some healing work with his wife, Henry.’
‘Henry?’
‘Short for Henrietta.’
‘Ah. What was wrong with her?’
‘Now you know I can’t tell you that, Carole.’
This prompted a sniff. Carole couldn’t really see why the rules of client confidentiality should apply to healers, who were really only one generation away from witch doctors.
Jude went on, ‘Barney’s made the offer of the villa by way of a thank you.’
‘Oh, I see.’ Carole took a moment to think about the situation. One thing she had avoided all her life – with an almost paranoid terror – was being ‘beholden’ to anyone. Her parents had never liked being ‘beholden’. Nothing should be taken if something else was not offered by way of recompense. This rule had applied to all their dealings – financial, social and emotional – and it was a habit of thought that Carole found hard to break.
‘So …’ she began cautiously, ‘I’d be sort of riding on the back of the goodwill that Barney feels towards you?’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Carole, you do make things complicated.’
‘No, I don’t. I just like to know where I stand. And if I were contemplating going on a free holiday I’d want to know what—’
‘Ah, so you are contemplating doing it?’
‘I didn’t say that I was.’
‘But you might be.’
‘Well …’
‘Come on, Carole, it’d be fun.’
‘“Fun”?’ Carole contemplated the unfamiliar concept.