Free Letter from a Stranger by Barbara Taylor Bradford

blue sky like a behemoth.
    “What a fantastic sight this is!” Justine said.
    “It is lovely. If you didn’t want to move you could stay here and keep very busy. There’s the spa, a hair salon, many shops, bars, restaurants, swimming, and tennis.”
    Justine smiled. “But I do want to move, I want to see this city, get to know it.”
    “I have made a list for you.” Iffet immediately pulled a sheet of paper out of her bag. “A list of churches, such as the Hagia Sophia, the little Hagia Sophia, both built by your male namesake, Justinian. The Blue Mosque, the Topkapi Palace Museum, and various other palaces. I’ll take you wherever you want to go tomorrow.”
    “I’m in your hands, you’re the expert, but I wouldn’t want to miss the Grand Bazaar and the Spice Market.”
    “I have them on the list for Saturday,” Iffet answered, then glanced up at the waiter who came to a standstill at the table. She ordered sparkling water and so did Justine, and both women took the menus he handed to them.
    “I’m not a foodie, not very adventurous when it comes to food,” Justine explained, “and I see several things here that I like. A club sandwich, for one, and a number of good salads. Do you know what you want, Iffet?”
    “Like you, I am a simple eater. I will select one of the salads.”
    “And I’m going to go for the club sandwich.” Justine beckoned to the waiter, who came over and took their order, and then Justine said to Iffet, “Have you ever been to New York?”
    Iffet shook her head. “But I do know London quite well. I go there often. Do you want to travel here in Turkey? Is there anywhere special you’d like to visit?”
    “I’ve always wanted to go to Ephesus, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to do it this trip. Perhaps next time.”
    “If you make your documentary.”
    “That’s right.”
    *   *   *
    The two women liked each other, had clicked immediately during the drive from Atatürk airport, and their conversation was nonstop both before and during lunch. On the plane, Justine had reread Joanne’s computer printouts and the travel guide she had given her, and because she was a quick study and had a retentive memory she was able to have an intelligent discussion with Iffet. But always at the back of Justine’s mind was an image of her grandmother, and thoughts of Anita Lowe. But she knew that once she had located one or both of them she would be able to relax. For the moment she remained tense inside, and anxiety-ridden.
    At exactly two o’clock Justine interrupted their conversation about the Basilica Cistern, a vast underground water system, saying to Iffet, “I’m sorry to cut this short for a moment, but I must call my brother. He’s expecting to hear from me about now.”
    “That is perfectly all right, Justine, I shall give you your privacy.” Iffet made to stand up and leave the table.
    Justine put out a hand, touched her arm, exclaimed, “No, no, that’s not necessary. I’m just calling him to let him know I’ve arrived safely and am in your care.” She shook her head, sighed lightly. “He worries about me a lot.” Taking out her cell, she dialed Richard’s apartment, and within a few seconds she heard his voice.
    “It’s me, Rich,” she said. “Safe and sound in Istanbul, sitting by the Bosphorus having lunch with Iffet. It’s exactly two o’clock here, and I guess you’re having breakfast in New York.”
    “I am. A piece of toast and a mug of coffee standing up in the kitchen. How was the flight? How’s Istanbul? What’s the hotel like?” he asked in a rush of questions.
    “The flight was great, just under ten hours, and landed on time. Istanbul is fascinating, what little I’ve seen of it. The weather is fabulous, and so is the hotel. Oh, and Iffet is lovely … a friend already.”
    “So you’re in safe hands all round, and I can relax.”
    “Of course you can, anyway you know very well I can take care of myself. Any news, anything