Writers Challenge ... 1st August

Most people fall asleep on the transfer coach to resort, but not me. As the coach wends its way through mountainous terrain towards our destination, I rest my head against the cool glass window and stare at nothing in particular.

My body is tired, but my mind is alert. Full of thoughts that I’d rather not think about right now. What am I doing here? Am I out of my mind ... possibly.

A soundless sigh escapes my lips and clouds the glass. A new beginning – that’s why I’m here, to start again.

A sharp pain stabs at my heart and a little voice whispers inside my mind – ‘so why come here’?

The coach turns left and makes its way along the final winding mountain road which will lead me to my destination. Tiny nerves jangle around inside my stomach – maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

No. I needed to do this and why not start my new life with an extended holiday in a place that I’m familiar with – there’s nothing wrong with that. But my conscience taunts me still – ‘fool’ it whispers back.

I ignore it. For the past seventeen years I have devoted my life to a man who cared more for himself than he ever did me. But worst of all, I think, I have lived my life in the shadow of my siblings – my two sisters have perfect size 10 figures with beautiful silky straight hair. I’m a size 12 with naturally curly hair, which if not straightened, resembles the mane of a lion. They are the life and soul of the party as it were – I’m the quiet, gentle one.

I watch as we approach the City with its host of multi-coloured shimmering lights. Just like me, it never sleeps.

For three months this shall be my home. Just me – no siblings or other family to speak of and no ex husband living his life on my doorstep.

My heart starts to race as my destination looms ahead. Even after three years the streets are still familiar and bring memories flooding back I’d sooner forget.

In truth, the man that I secretly love lives here in blissful ignorance. Why did I never tell him, you might ask? It’s quite simple. The man that I love is in love with one of my perfect sisters ... and so when she is around, he doesn’t quite see me.

The sea is the deepest azure blue against the pure white sand that hugs the bay. I’ve expended a lot on this trip. My private villa overlooks the bay away from the hustle and bustle of the City – no-one will disturb me here.

As my transfer coach pulls into the side of the road I’m suddenly overcome with tiredness. It’s a short walk down the winding driveway lined with lemon trees to my quiet sanctuary.

Once inside, I choose a bedroom overlooking the bay and slip between the cool white sheets. Exhaustion takes over and my mind is blank at last.

Some hours later I awake and go in search of the kitchen. I hadn’t thought to ask for the fridge to be stocked with essentials, so there is nothing but an empty void where food should be.

I’m forced to join the rest of the world, so I slip into a cotton sundress, pull on some pumps and set about finding a number for a taxi company from the list of essential numbers left for me by the Agent.

Kippa ... Turkey’s answer to Tesco in UK speak. I skulk around isles afraid of bumping into anyone I know ... well actually one in particular. Of course I’m being an idiot in many ways – let’s face it, apart from anything else, he’d be working this time of day and secondly he may not even be in Marmaris. I’ve long since given up on keeping track of his residential status – like I said – he’s so not interested in me.

Of course, as I skulk through the endless isles of food, I can’t help but wonder where he is – what he might be doing and my heart starts to palpitate again.

The smell of the rich pungent spices makes me want to visit the bazaar in town – to soak up the atmosphere as it were.

Would I be safe in the centre of Marmaris? Could I lose myself well enough in the crowd to remain unseen?

I’m reminded by the tiny voice in my head that I didn’t come to Marmaris to hide. I came to start again and so I take the Number Two bus into the centre of town. Now I’m playing with fire.

We drive past the apartment block where I used to stay and the memories flood back. Down past the Cemetery and another apartment block ... bitter sweet memories rush through my mind. I’m relieved when the journey is over.

Carrying my one small bag of provisions, I’m drawn to the water front where tourists lie drenched in coconut smelling lotions soaking up the mid-day sun. My eyes are everywhere and nowhere all at the same time.

At the farthest end of the beach I find myself drawn to a young girl perched on the side of a pedalo boat. Her back is arched towards the sand and her hair gently caresses the water below.

I’m so amazed by the supple young body as it arches back farther still that I don’t notice the photographer, but then he speaks; and as he does, my head comes reeling round and I’m face to face with him.

For the first time ever in my life he sees me. A ghost of a smile plays at the corners of his lips as his soft velvet eyes gaze at me from where he stands. Suddenly he is walking towards me, and I know I should run, but I can’t.

Then, as he takes me in his arms, he whispers in my ear ‘what kept you?’