‘I know we are,’ Defne murmurs.
‘One request,’ Tahir says quietly, and everyone falls silent. ‘No photographs on this voyage. Not of the yacht, the islands, or each other. And absolutely no posting on social media. With respect to you all, I must insist on that.’
There’s a strained silence. Defne and Buse sneak glances at each other.
‘Are we agreed?’ Tahir asks, his smile tightening. ‘Girls?’
They nod. Defne with weary acceptance, Buse with barely concealed outrage.
‘Oxana?’
‘Of course, Mr Yilmaz.’
‘I don’t want to have to ask Atlas to confiscate phones, but I’m prepared to, if necessary. Trust me, this is for your own protection.’
There’s an extended silence, and Oxana becomes aware that Inci is watching her. Buse furtively extends her fork and spears one of Defne’s quail eggs. In response, Defne elbows Buse in the upper arm, causing her to gasp audibly and drop the fork onto her plate.
‘This food’s delicious,’ Oxana says brightly, and everyone stares at her, as if surprised that’s she’s taken it upon herself to speak. She turns to the girls. ‘How did you two meet?’
‘At school,’ Defne says. ‘Queen’s Gate. In London.’
‘Defne’s super-sporty,’ Buse says. ‘Netball, fencing, rowing. She’s so tall and strong, she’s brilliant at everything. And don’t look at me like that, youare, babe.’ She pouts regretfully. ‘I’m hopeless at sports. I’m more into clothes and parties and?—’
‘Flirting with the boys from the French Lycée,’ Defne says. ‘You’ve definitely got an A-star in that.’
‘I’m sure it helps with your languages.’ Yilmaz smiles pacifically.
‘All those foreign tongues,’ Defne murmurs.
Inci’s smile tightens. ‘I think we’ve finished with this course. Can we ring for Feris?’
The food is whisked away and swiftly replaced. ‘Muhallebi milk pudding,’ Andreas announces. ‘With candied rose petals, crushed Antep pistachios?—’
Tahir leans forward. ‘I think we can all see what it is. Why don’t you just leave it for us.’
‘Very good, sir.’ Andreas bows and withdraws.
‘That was a bit brutal,Baba,’ Defne murmurs. ‘He looked crushed.’
‘Like the pistachios.’ Buse frowns. ‘I think I’ve changed my mind about Andreas. There’s something a bit camp about him.’
‘Just because he’s got the good manners not to stare at your breasts doesn’t make him gay,’ Defne says, stabbing a corner of pitta bread into a saucer of hummus.
‘A lot of Greek men are gay,’ Inci pronounces. ‘Achilles was gay.’
‘He was bi,’ Defne says.
‘Who are we talking about?’ Buse asks.
‘A hero,’ Tahir says. ‘A great warrior.’
‘Like a Marvel hero?’ Buse asks. ‘Deadpool’s pansexual.’
Tahir regards her patiently. ‘Achilles was killed in the Trojan war, in the twelfth century before Christ.’
The flicker of interest dies in Buse’s eyes.
‘Brad Pitt in the movie,’ Defne says.