This story came about because I managed to escape Lockdown and go on vacation. There wasn't much to do where I stayed, so I conjured up this little tale. There is a little fetish content in it so if you don't like that please move on.
It's in two parts, I hope you like it. All characters are over 18. J.
I hadn't really thought about how hot Turkey can be in July. Mid July this year was extremely warm. 35 degrees my weather app kept telling me.
My aunt Cal, short for Charlotte, had been in Turkey for just over 3 years. As soon as the government said we could travel, she messaged me to suggest I should get out of England, and go visit. I'd plenty of leave due, so it wasn't a tough decision, and my boss was happy to sign off the holiday request.
I knew Cal had a villa a short distance from the harbour and it also had a pool and air-con. It sounded safe enough, so I threw some clothes in a suitcase and booked my flights.
This isn't about my aunt though, it's about Rosalind...
Rosalind, or Ros for short, and I met whilst I was away, and I'm going to tell you what happened....
***
Cal had met Murat in London. They weren't married or anything, Murat was a dentist who worked in Izmir during the week and the three hour commute each way meant they had to spend some days apart. Cal was an artist, by both training and vocation, so she spent the hours of separation being creative. Watercolours were her thing, and botanicals were here subject matter. She was talented and made her money selling her works to industry. Wallpaper, apparel or pottery, she was not fussy who she sold to, though she also framed some and sold them to the public.
She picked me up at Bodrum airport, and in less than an hour I was on the terrace of the villa a glass of chilled white wine on the table.
"So how have you been Jane? Has it been dreadfully tedious?"
I chose my words carefully before replying. I wasn't really ready to unburden myself of recent affairs of the heart, so I regaled her with tales of life at the cottage, and the mind numbing boredom of lockdown on my own.
When I'd finished, she put her glass down leaned forward, and with her grey eyes focused on mine said, "Well I'm glad you've come. Life here is really quite normal, bar the face masks and washing your hands all the time. The village has a few visitors in it, so you'll at least feel part of the human race again. I'll just go and fetch lunch. I suspect you're starving after that journey," and she eased herself out of her chair and headed for the kitchen.
We ate salad with cold meat and fresh olive bread, under the huge umbrella by the pool. The boats in the harbour bobbed up and down against their moorings, and the sun sparkled on the waves. Home felt a million miles away...
"You really are very lucky to live in such a special place Cal," I said as I finished eating.
She smiled at me and ran a hand back through her hair. It was pepper and salt grey now, but beautifully styled in cascading waves to her shoulders.
"Yes Jane it seems so. We have a nice home and of course the boat now. I have a few close friends and there's Murat's family not far away. I do spend a lot of time on my own though......still that's why I asked you to come. We can have a few days doing girly things and you can lie in the sun and relax..."
That first afternoon we lazed by the pool on sun loungers. Cal provided iced tea and a plate of water melon, and when the sun was all too much, I slid into the pool to cool off.
Around five Cal disappeared indoors to shower and change. I dozed on a lounger under the bougainvillea, the mellow sun catching my pale legs.
***
"You should go down to the harbour after you've changed," Cal said gently, as she brought me out of my reverie a while later. "There is only one bar, as there is only one restaurant in this part of town, but people of your age tend to gather at the bar in the early evening, and you should go and mix."
It was hardly the first thing I'd have chosen to do, especially after the early start that day, but there was something rather insistent in Cal's tone, so I stirred myself, and went to my room to shower and change.
"Dinner will be at 8.30 prompt," Cal advised after she had given me directions. I set off down the lane to the harbour. It was still very warm, but the sun was now waning and soon would fall behind the trees on the peninsula.
***
I'm not sure what I was expecting when I climbed up on to the terrace of the Aegean bar a few minutes later. I suppose I was wary that a single thirty something would stick out like a sore thumb in a crowd of noisy teenagers or at least twenty somethings...
I needn't have worried. The bar was not a haven for youth and hi jinx. It was far from that. At the back, under under a low tiled roof, there was a stone bar with half a dozen stools, but the rest of the huge space had glass topped low metal tables with sumptuously upholstered sofas and chairs under large cantilevered umbrellas. Gentle Jazz provided aural sophistication, and young white t shirted, black shorted waiters hustled and bustled to the needs of the diverse clientele.
I found a small secluded table with a wonderful view of the beach and settled down. There was a gentle breeze and the last of the sun. It was the sort of place one would've been happy writing postcards years ago. In the absence of that pastime, I ordered a large white wine and pulled out my phone to catch up on social media and the news.
I was blissfully happy that Cal had made me venture out. The wine was cold and crisp, and the murmur of conversation from my fellow guests reassuring...
***
I won't try and mislead you by saying I noticed her the moment she arrived, as I didn't. In fact I'm not sure when I first saw her. It was definitely before she approached my table, but I wasn't really concentrating especially, as she was speaking Turkish.
So it was somewhat startling when, a little later, she appeared at my table and asked me in perfect English whether I minded if she could share my table.
I was surprised by both her language and the fact that in such a large bar she found it necessary to intrude on my privacy to get somewhere to sit.
"This is the best table here," she said as if recognising my irritation.
"You get the last of the sun, the best view of the beach and the best location to people watch."
"Well by all means then," I said trying to be more conciliatory.
"Thanks. I'm Ros by the way. Ros Hargreaves."
"Jane, Jane Birch," I replied.
I felt obliged to look at her properly at this point, so as she pulled a chair round I studied her.
She was, at a guess, a few years younger than me, say 27 or 28. Her white skinny rib t shirt dress clung to a perfect hourglass figure. She was dark haired, a bay brown colour and wore it below her shoulders with a central part and layered bangs framing her oval face. With such dark hair it was surprising that her skin was not that dark. A golden tan on her arms and neck suggested many weeks of gentle exposure to the Aegean weather. Her eyes were large, green and slightly bulbous. between them was a thin straight nose and below, thin lips with a distinct cupid's bow.
She wore no make up save for a dab of mascara, nor did she need it. She was quite beautiful...
