not going to call our mother in China? Or wherever the hell she might be?’
‘Correct. I’m going to find Gran, and it’s not going to take me as long as you think. I’ve a good feeling about this friend of Joanne’s, and I trust my own instincts. Gran’s in Istanbul. And a good-looking English woman, with a hint of regality, is more than likely part of local society, moving in the right circles.’
‘You’re right. Let’s go down to the kitchen. I’d love a mug of hot tea and some cake or cookies.’
Justine leapt out of bed, threw on her robe, and she and her twin went down the stairs to the kitchen. As she put the kettle on, Richard opened the refrigerator door but, finding nothing he wanted to eat, he went into the pantry. ‘Oh, my God, there’s a coconut cake in here,’ he exclaimed, carrying out the cake stand with a glass dome.
Justine stared at him. ‘If you touch that cake you’re in real trouble! Pearl will have your guts for garters!’
‘That’s one of Dad’s expressions!’
‘Borrowed from our grandmother. And I believe Pearl made the cake for the tea party in the gazebo tomorrow.’
‘Whoops. I’ll go and put it back.’ A moment later he emerged from the walk-in pantry with a glass biscuit jar. ‘What do you think? Will Pearl get mad if I have a couple of these cookies?’
‘I think you’re on safe ground.’
The fire had burned low, but there were a few glowing embers left, and so there was a warm and cosy feeling in the kitchen. Richard and Justine sat at the big square table, sipping their mugs of tea and munching on the cookies.
Neither of them spoke for a while, but their frequent and sometimes long silences were never awkward. Rather, they were comforting. It had always been like this since they were born. They were totally at ease with each other, and on the same wavelength. Very often they had the same thought simultaneously, and said what the other was thinking. Twinship. That was the way Richard described it, much to Justine’s glee.
As children they had done everything together, had gone to the same kindergarten and high school. Later, they went to Connecticut College in New London, a choice that had been perfect for them, as it turned out.
Joanne had asked if she could join them there, and they had been delighted when she got in. And so the childhood triumvirate had continued from their young adulthood into their college years, and afterwards.
Justine and Richard understood each other completely and on every level, and now Richard suddenly said, ‘We’ve both clamped down on our anger, and that’s best for the moment, don’t you agree?’
She nodded, and said in a low tone, ‘But the day of reckoning will come, you know.’
‘A confrontation with our mother would be an indulgence at this moment, Justine. The most important thing is to get you on your way to Turkey.’
‘Agreed.’ Reaching out, she put her hand on his, resting on the table. ‘I know you’re going to worry, but I’ll call you every day, I promise.’
‘Day or night, any time, my phone will be on.’ He shook his head, squeezed her hand. ‘I hope Gran’s all right. I can’t bear to think what the last ten years have been like for her… she must have been so hurt.’
‘And lonely,’ Justine remarked softly. ‘That’s the worst thing of all for anyone. Loneliness.’
PART TWO
The Search
To reach the port of heaven, we must sail sometimes with the wind and sometimes against it – but we must sail, and not drift, nor lie at anchor.
Oliver Wendell Holmes
SEVEN
Justine recognized Iffet Özgönül at once. It helped, of course, that the woman she zeroed in on was standing next to a tall man holding a sign with the name NOLAN printed on it in large letters.
But Justine knew it was her. She fitted Joanne’s description: slender, petite, a brunette with short curly hair and a big smile on her face. And now she was waving. Iffet had been told what to expect by Jo, no doubt about that: a lanky blonde American with long hair and blue eyes.
Waving back, then turning around, Justine beckoned to the young man carrying her two bags, and strode forward, increasing her pace. He hurried after her.
A moment later the two women were shaking hands, and Iffet was saying in perfect English, ‘Hello, hello. So pleased to meet you. And welcome to Istanbul.’
‘I’m glad I’m here, and pleased to meet you too, Ms Özgönül.’
‘Oh, please, call me Iffet, everyone does.’
‘Iffet it is, and I’m Justine, okay?’
‘Of course. And it’s a name we Turks know well. Centuries ago we had an emperor called Justinian, who built the now famous Haghia Sophia Church… But you don’t need a history lesson now. Let’s go to the car. And by the way, this is Selim, our driver.’
The tall man bowed courteously, and smiled; Justine smiled back and thrust out her hand, which he shook.
Iffet led her through Atatürk Airport and outside to the car, which turned out to be a small minibus. As the young baggage man was stowing her bags in the back, Justine glanced at Iffet and asked, ‘Are we picking up other people?’
‘Oh, no, not at all. But I always use these little buses.’ Lowering her voice, she added, ‘They’re cheaper than regular cars, and more comfortable.’ With a smile she hurried over to the baggage handler, and handed him money, thanking him.
Justine also thanked him. ‘I could have done that, Iffet,’ she murmured. ‘Look, I have the tip money right here in my pocket.’
‘Oh no, it’s fine, really. Come, let us go… isn’t it a beautiful day?’
‘It surely is,’ Justine answered, lifting her head, looking up. The sky was a perfect cerulean blue, with a few white clouds floating above in the vast sky; it was sunny and warm – perfect spring weather. She took several deep breaths, glad to be outside after the long night flight, and then bounded up the steps into the minibus.
Once they were on their way, Iffet asked her what she wanted to do that day, if anything at all, and also told her that she had booked her into the Çiragan Palace Hotel Kempinski, following Joanne’s instructions.
‘Yes, she told me she wanted me to stay there, that I would love it. As for doing something, I believe I’d like to take it easy today. I did sleep a bit on the plane, but not much. I was sort of restless, frankly. I’d prefer to do nothing.’
‘I don’t blame you, Justine. The hotel has a pool. More importantly, also a spa. A good spa. Perhaps you should indulge yourself.’ Iffet gave her a big smile, her whole face lighting up. ‘You can even have a Turkish bath, if you want. However, that might knock you out.’
Justine began to laugh. ‘Joanne’s a big fan of them, and insisted I had one at least.
