‘Or their cousin,’ said Henry.
‘Yes.’ Her husband grinned. ‘They’re all cousins out there. Someone can’t fix something – no worries, he’ll have a cousin who can. They’re a really friendly lot.’
Henry seemed about to say something which might have qualified this statement, but a look from Barney stopped her.
‘And they will be able to tell us about the best places to go out for the odd day?’ asked Jude. ‘Best beaches, archaeological sites, what-have-you …?’
‘We can get that information from guidebooks,’ said Carole, forgetting that she hadn’t yet committed herself to going to Kayaköy. ‘Or online.’
‘Sure,’ said Barney, ‘but much better if you get it from people who’re based there. They really know the area. Anyway, the person you want to talk to about that stuff is an Englishwoman called Nita Davies. She’s a great friend of ours.’
‘A great friend of yours,’ Henry interposed pointedly.
‘Whatever.’ Barney went on: ‘Nita’s married to a Turk, guy called Erkan. But in fact she still uses her maiden name professionally … which is just as well because her married surname is totally unpronounceable. So she’s still Nita Davies. Actually, he might be useful to you, Erkan. He runs a diving school, so if you were to fancy a bit of the old scuba …?’
‘I don’t think I probably will,’ said Jude.
‘I’m certain that I won’t,’ said Carole.
‘Up to you. Anyway, Nita still works as a rep for one of the travel companies. Forget which one, she keeps changing jobs. But she knows the area inside out.’
‘Does she act as a rep for your villa company?’ asked Carole.
‘No, I’ve got a manager out there who looks after all the villas. And since all the booking’s done online these days, we don’t need an office here in the UK. So, like I say, you’ll have plenty of English speakers in Kayaköy to look after you. And you’ll have the use of a car, obviously.’
‘Really?’
‘Sure thing, Jude. Henry and I’re out in Kayaköy so often we—’
‘You’re out in Kayaköy so often,’ his wife once again interposed.
‘Yeah. So we’ve got a car out there permanently. Fiat it is.’
‘But what about insurance?’ It was Carole who asked the question. Jude would never have thought of it.
‘All sorted. I just need to let them know your details and you can drive wherever you want.’
‘That’s great,’ said Jude.
‘So it’s really just a matter of the dates.’ Barney Willingdon reached into the pocket of his leather jacket and produced a state-of-the-art smartphone. ‘As I said, it’ll have to be before the beginning of July.’ He reached the diary. ‘So when do you fancy? And for how long?’
This wasn’t something the two women had discussed. Carole had been so tentative about the whole project that they hadn’t got down to such basic details. So Jude gave the dates that would be ideal for her. Two weeks, and leaving in twelve days’ time, assuming she could arrange the flights.
‘Should be all right this early in the season,’ said Barney. ‘And if you do have any problems, I’ll put you in touch with Nita. She’s got contacts with the airlines. She can fix anything.’
‘Oh yes,’ Henry agreed without great warmth. ‘She’s a real Mrs Fix-It, our Nita.’
Barney flashed a look of exasperation at his wife before moving on. ‘Actually, you may well see us out there too.’
‘Oh, you’ll be in Kayaköy?’ asked Jude.
‘Maybe. There’s another couple of villas I’m building outside Ölüdeniz, and the contractors there could do with a kick up the arse, so yes, we may be there.’
‘But it’s not very likely,’ said Henry. ‘We haven’t firmed up our plans yet. Not for both of us going, anyway.’
Barney Willingdon’s expression suggested that this was a subject they’d argued about before. And would argue about again when they were on their own. ‘Look,’ he said to his guests, ‘you check out the flights and get back to me. As I say, anytime you like before the beginning of July.’
‘Well, it’s very generous of you, Barney,’ said Jude. ‘Are you sure I can’t contribute something towards—?’
He raised both hands to stop her in mid-flow. ‘Absolutely not. I won’t hear of it. The villa’s there, it’s not costing me anything for you to use it. And after everything you’ve done for Henry …’
What did she do for Henry? Carole wondered. She wondered also about the chances of Jude ever telling her. She wasn’t optimistic. Her neighbour could sometimes be very old-fashioned about client confidentiality … just as if she were a proper doctor.
As the Renault drove away from Chantry House, Jude, buoyed up by the interest Carole had shown in the practical details of the villa, asked, ‘Will those dates be all right for you?’
‘Oh,’ said Carole rather sniffily, ‘I haven’t decided whether I’m going to come yet.’
THREE
‘So how’s Gaby?’
‘Pretty good, actually. The morning sickness seems to have stopped, and she’s entering the blooming phase of pregnancy.’
‘Oh.’ When she’d been expecting the baby who became the man at the other end of the phone, Carole hadn’t had a ‘blooming’ phase – at least, not that she could recollect. But then she hadn’t much liked any aspect of carrying Stephen. ‘And has Lily taken on board that she’s going to have a new brother or sister?’
‘Well, we’ve told her enough times, but whether she’s taken it on board is another matter. Her main preoccupation seems to be playing with princess dolls.’
‘Very right and proper for a child of her age,’ said the fond grandmother (who was far from ‘right on’ when it came to gender politics). ‘Stephen …’
‘Yes, Mother?’
Carole still wished her son would relax enough to call her ‘Mummy’. Or even ‘Mum’, though that, of course, was rather vulgar. ‘I wondered how you’d react if I were to go away for a while …?’
‘Go away? Where to?’
‘I’ve been offered a chance of a week or a fortnight’s holiday in Turkey.’
‘Well, that sounds wonderful. Who’re you going with?’
‘If I go, it’ll be with Jude. You know Jude?’
‘Yes, of course. Your neighbour, the hippy-dippy healer. Well, it sounds a jolly good idea to me.’
‘But you’re sure you won’t need me around?’ The question was almost plaintive.
‘What for?’ The question wasn’t the most tactful that Stephen Seddon had ever posed.
‘Well, you know, if Gaby needs help with Lily like she did earlier in the pregnancy, or if she—’
‘No, no, Gaby’s as fit as a fiddle now. No problems with Lily. And if there are any, Gaby’s got a network of local friends who can help out. No, you go to Turkey. Have a great time. When are you off?’
‘Oh, I haven’t definitely decided I’m going yet.’
When she finished the phone call, Carole felt a little bereft. She didn’t realize the delight that grown-up children who have their own children feel when a parent makes their own holiday arrangements. It removes both a level of anxiety and a level of guilt. It’s another year that they don’t have the feeling they should be including the grandparent in their own holiday plans.
‘I’m really not sure, Jude.’
‘Well, I’m afraid I need a decision pretty quickly. The flights need booking.’
‘Yes, I can see that. It’s just that … well, we’ve never been on holiday together, have we?’