The Tomb in Turkey

TWENTY-SEVEN

Carole woke some half an hour later and at first she could not think where she was. The moon was bright enough to shed rectangles of light across the bed, and the net curtains stirred in the warm evening breeze. She felt down her body, and the touch of towel told her she was in her bedroom at Morning Glory.

With the realization came an instinctive guilt. She shouldn’t be lying around sleeping in the daytime! (Carole Seddon had never really caught on to the concept of holidays.) So she quickly got up and dressed.

It was clear when she got downstairs that Jude was not about. And, with even more guilt, Carole recognized that her first reaction was one of relief. Much as she liked – possibly even loved, though she didn’t go in for that sentimental stuff – her friend, she wasn’t used to being in anyone’s company twenty-four hours a day. And just as she had felt the need to go to Pinara alone on the Tuesday morning, so she once again felt grateful for a little solitude.

Then she felt a knee-jerk twinge of anxiety. Jude hadn’t gone off with Barney, had she? But she was quickly reassured. Barney was a man on the run; no need to worry about him and Jude becoming emotionally entangled again.

Feeling daringly self-indulgent, Carole went to the fridge and poured herself a large glass of the wine that tasted like Sauvignon Blanc. She took a sip as she moved to sit outside. It really did taste astoundingly good. Could it be that her long-term loyalty to Chilean Chardonnay was being challenged?

She sat in an upright chair by the pool and made a conscious effort to relax. Then she remembered that she should have sprayed on some mosquito repellent. But she resisted the impulse to go upstairs and get it.

Perhaps she ought to be doing a Times crossword …? Again she suppressed the urge to move. Because in order to see enough to enable her to do the Times crossword, she would have to put on the outside lights, and the outside lights would attract mosquitoes which would mean she’d also have to spray herself with mosquito repellent.

No, better just to sit there. She tried to let the tension drain out of her body, but her body was stiffened by many years of keeping it all in. She felt sure Jude would know some mumbo-jumbo like tantric breathing to relax her body, but then Carole Seddon wasn’t Jude and, she assured herself, never wanted to be.

She took a long swallow from her wine glass. Followed it by another. Yes, that helped. For a moment she really did feel quite relaxed.

Then she smelt burning.