When Ali Met Sally (Part 1)

When Ali Met Sally (Part 1)

February 19, 2017 0 By Faye Rogan

Olu Deniz


Under a searing August sun, Ali’s ice cream boat puttered around the bays near Ölü Deniz.  It was mid-morning and he was still feeling the after effects of a heavy drinking session the night before. Guzzling from a bottle of water, he made his way to a tourist boat, loaded with holiday makers who were enjoying a swimming stop. Guiding his small boat alongside the larger boat, he shouted,

‘Ice cream! Ice cream!’

Several people came to look over the side of their boat and Ali smiled as he spotted a tanned blonde girl fishing in her purse for some loose change. He held up a selection of Magnums and Cornettoes for her to choose.

‘I’ll have the Almond Magnum, please,’ the blonde shouted.

‘Here you are!’ Ali responded, reaching up to pass the ice cream to her and taking the money.

‘You’re beautiful!’ he added cheekily, blowing her a kiss.

Laughing shyly, she thanked him and disappeared into the boat.

That night, Ali and his brother Nuri were strolling along the main street in Ölü Deniz.  Both men were primped to perfection, with gelled hair, liberal splashings of aftershave and both in tight jeans and skinny T-shirts. They were on their way to a bar owned by a friend where they regularly hung out.

Looking left, to where a British family were noisily celebrating a birthday, his attention was immediately drawn to the blonde ringlets of a girl sitting quietly behind the family. It was the girl from the boat!

Not quite believing his luck, he pulled Nuri into the restaurant and made his way over to the girl.

‘Hi!’ he said excitedly.

The girl looking up from her phone, blinked in surprise and replied, ‘Hi!’

‘Don’t you remember me?’ Ali asked.

‘No. Who are you?’

‘The ice cream boat?’ Ali prompted.

‘Oh, sorry! I didn’t recognise you with your clothes on!’ she responded, reddening after realising what she had just said, remembering his naked chest, rippling with taut muscle.

‘This is my brother, Nuri. Can we join you?’ he inquired without waiting for an invitation and pushing his way past a chair to sit down. He offered his hand and introduced himself.

‘Pleased to meet you. I’m Sally and this is my friend, Jo,’ Sally replied, scooting her chair along to make room for the two men.

‘Can we get you a drink?’ Ali offered.

‘Lovely! I’ll have a vodka and coke,’ Sally said, looking expectantly at Jo.

‘I’ll have the same,’ Jo said, smiling, not quite understanding why Sally was suddenly animated.

As the Ali ordered the drinks from a passing waiter, Sally whispered to Jo that this was the man she’d told her about on the boat. ‘Isn’t he gorgeous?’ she asked, hoping for confirmation from her friend.

‘Yes, but I prefer his brother,’ Jo whispered back, ‘He’s more my type – rugged, heavier set and taller.’

‘Perfect!’ Sally responded.

After lots of chatting, giggling at linguistic misunderstandings and another round of drinks, Ali asked the girls if they would like to go to his village. They had commented that they hadn’t seen much of the area as they spent their days at the beach. ‘It’s very beautiful. It only takes twenty minutes by car.’

‘But it’s late!’ Sally said, tempted, but wondering how safe it would be to go gallivanting around the countryside with two virile Turkish men.

‘It’s only eleven o’ clock. It is early!’ Nuri grinned. ‘Come on! It’ll be fun!’

Sally looked at Jo, hoping she would refuse Ali’s offer but she just shrugged her shoulders so it was left to Sally to make the decision.

Ali could see the girls looking dubiously at each other so assured them that they would be safe.

Settled in the back of an old Fiat, with seatbelts that didn’t fasten, Sally and Jo held onto each other as the car swerved around sharp corners along a rutted track which climbed steeply up into deep forest, with only the light from a waning moon and the dirty headlights guiding the way.

‘We must be crazy! Jo shouted above the din of the Fiat’s noisy exhaust, her hair being whipped against her cheek by the blast of air from the open car windows.  ‘Where the Hell are we going?’ Then, she tapped Ali on the shoulder, ‘Are you sure you can drive? Have you got a licence?’

Laughing, Ali replied, that he had one but these roads were challenging to drive on as they were only farm tracks. ‘Don’t worry! I’m a good driver. We’re nearly there,’ he shouted, taking a left turn onto an even bumpier track, careering wildly to avoid massive potholes. His driving became more erratic, buoyed by the shrieks of the girls in the back.

Finally, they arrived at a single storey, whitewashed house which stood next to a pile of bricks and builder’s rubble. A rusty cement mixer perched on top of a hardened heap of cement.

Clambering out of the car, weak with relief, the girls followed Ali into the house. The stifling interior consisted of one long room, sparsely furnished, with a battered old sofa pushed against the wall, an old television perched on a rickety table in the corner and a basic kitchen at the far end. Ali went to the fridge, taking out bottles of Efes beer which he offered to the girls and gestured for them to follow him. Opening a sliding glass door, he stepped outside onto a terrace.   ‘It’ll be cooler out here,’ he said, dragging tatty floor cushions against the wall for them to sit on.

Stiff from the car journey and enjoying the cool breeze, Sally stood at the edge of the terrace and as her eyes adjusted to the inky blackness, exclaimed, ‘Wow! Look at that view! That must be Ölü Deniz down there,’ seeing the cluster of twinkling lights with the sea beyond.

‘Yes it is,’ Nuri confirmed.

‘Is this your house?’ Sally asked.

‘Yes, this is our family’s house. It’s old but we are making it new’, Ali replied, which explained the building materials outside.

‘So are your parents here?’ Jo asked.

‘No, they live in another house just over there’, pointing vaguely over to the left.

‘So, you both live here?’ Jo inquired, realising that the house was isolated and miles from anywhere.

‘Yes, we do,’ Ali said, taking a swig of his beer.

The cold beer was working through Sally and she asked where the toilet was.

‘I’ll take you,’ Ali offered, leading her back into the house, across the living room, to a blue painted wooden door which he heaved open.

Sally found herself in a yard on the opposite side of the house in front of a small shed. Ali shoved open the door of the shed and beckoned for her to enter. Thanking Ali and watching him retreat back inside the house, Sally closed the shed door. She was thankful it was a western toilet but, overwhelmed by the reek of urine, held her breath as she relieved herself, fumbling around to find some toilet tissue.

As she stepped back out into the yard, careful not to trip over the uneven paving stones, hands grabbed her throat from behind and she was forced to her knees. ‘Aaagh!’ she gurgled, struggling to release the tight grip on her neck.


To be continued………………..