Cruising with the O’Maras (The Irish Guesthouse on the Green #17)

Chapter 27

M aureen wrapped the pink scarf, doubling as a pashmina bought on her Greek holiday, around her shoulders and made to curl up on the lounger. The silver lamé gown wasn’t made for curling up, however, so she sat with her legs out straight and fiddled with the back of the seat until she had it just so. She’d a cup of tea on the deck alongside her in easy reach and a plate of cheese and crackers. It was all that was on offer in the buffet this time of night. The moon in the starlit sky resembled a giant pumpkin, making her feel philosophical as she gazed at it. The longer she stared, the more she fancied she could see Patrick as a babby’s face in it. Sure, it was like the start of the Teletubbies programme, but instead of the babby’s face in the sun, giggling, it was a moonfaced Pat. Movement out the corner of her eye saw her drag her attention from the full moon to where Carole was approaching her. She must have come straight from the Atrium as she’d slipped her heels off, dangling them from one hand while carrying a cup of tea. Maureen gave her a wave.

There’d been no chance for the two women to catch up earlier, not because of a lack of trying. Carole had tapped on Maureen and Donal’s cabin door when she’d had a dinner break, a window between her evening and afternoon sets. However, the couple, shattered from the day's events, had dozed off and had not heard her knock. So, it had fallen to Maureen to make a hasty arrangement to meet on the Lido deck at 11pm as she passed through the Atrium to the Havana Lounge for The Gamblers' performance.

The show tonight had been great fun, with the audience getting into the swing of things on the dancefloor. Yet, Maureen had been counting down the songs until their encore performance of “Coward of the County”. She’d been desperate for 11pm to roll around to hear how Carole’s phone call with Carlos had gone. Donal stepped away from the mic when the final notes were sung, and Maureen assured him not to worry, saying, ‘I'll meet you back in the cabin later.’ Then, leaving him and the lads to mix and mingle with the passengers who’d come to see them play, she hurried up to the Lido deck.

‘How was the show?’ Carole asked, settling down on the lounger next to Maureen and being careful not to slosh her tea.

Maureen thought she looked stylish in her black blazer worn over a pale blue trouser suit and told her so before replying. ‘The show went over very well, especially “The Gambler”. We always start with it. However, there was an unfortunate incident with a fella who skidded over due to his haste to hit the dance floor. We think he slipped a disc. His cowboy boots had no grip on the soles.’ She tutted.

Carole made a suitably sympathetic noise. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing The Gamblers at the Haybales and Hoedown party the night after next. My set’s finishing an hour earlier because most people will be at the party. It will be my first opportunity to see Niall playing guitar and you all doing your thing. I can’t wait to learn to line dance.’

‘Well, just be sure to wear the grippy cowboy boots. And at least your schedules have given you and Niall plenty of free time together during the day,’ Maureen waggled her eyebrows suggestively, making the other woman laugh.

‘Subtle, you are not, Maureen. Although, I won’t deny I’m enjoying getting to know Niall.’

Maureen made a note to herself to tell Niall to do the Eric Clapton thing with his face, where he made the audience feel like his guitar was talking, at the Haybale and Hoedown party. Personally speaking, Maureen thought Niall looked like he needed an enema when he screwed his face up with the emotion of his solo like so, but the audience loved it. Chances were, Carole would too. ‘And how was your performance tonight?’ Maureen asked, blowing on her tea.

‘Good, thanks.’ Then Carole grinned, copying Maureen as she said, ‘Although there was an unfortunate incident whereby a woman, three sheets to the wind on cocktails, trailed toilet paper stuck to her shoe all the way from the Ladies’ to the Atrium to request I play “Piano Man”.’

‘No! She’ll be mortified in the morning.’

‘Or too hungover to care.’

Both women shared a sanctimonious tea-sipping moment before Maureen reached for the plate. ‘Cheese and biscuit?’

‘Don’t mind if I do.’

Once Carole had placed a chunk of cheddar on her cracker, Maureen got to the point of their late-night rendezvous. ‘So, c’mon, tell me. How did your conversation with Carlos go?’ Annoyingly, Carole popped the cheese and cracker in her mouth and was as slow as a cow chewing cud, drawing out the moment’s drama. It would seem the moon was in on the act, too, because it chose that moment to hide behind a cloud and, while it didn’t plunge them into darkness, it was like the lights going down at the cinema.

‘Sorry,’ Carole said finally, with a grin that said she was anything but as she brushed the crumbs off her blazer.

Maureen stashed the plate out of reach. ‘You’re not having another until you’ve answered my question.’

‘Okay, I don’t want to jinx things, but the call went well. Carlos heard me out. He let me speak without interrupting, and he was gracious in accepting my apology. He said he’d like to move forward and that I should be a part of his, Emma's, and Charlotte’s lives. He promised he’ll talk to Emma for me.’

‘Oh, Carole, I’m delighted, so I am!’ Maureen gave a little clap.

Carole was beaming from ear to ear but, still, she erred on the side of caution. ‘I hope Emma will listen to what Carlos has to pass on. She can hold a grudge.’ The grin faded. ‘I want her to accept my apology and understand I realise how misguided my actions were but know they did come from a place of love.’ She wrung her hands. ‘I’m going to be so on edge each time we’re in port and I check my emails.’

‘You’ll hear from her.’ Maureen could feel it in her water. ‘And what did you make of Carlos?’

‘Once I’d finished laying it all bare for him and he had a chance to talk, I got the impression that he’s a solid young man. I liked him. I wish I’d given him a chance instead of seeing him as a threat.’ Carole’s voice grew thick. ‘Oh, Maureen, I’ve wasted so much time. What a fool I’ve been.’

‘Now that’s enough of that. No more looking back, Carole. What’s done is done, and you can’t change things. It’s what happens next that matters.’

Carole’s eyes glistened in the semi-darkness. ‘You’re right. There’s power in positive thinking, right?’

‘Right so, shall we drink to the future?’ Maureen reached for her mug and raised it. Carole did the same, and Maureen recited, ‘Always remember to forget the troubles that passed away, but never forget to remember the blessings that come each day. Cheers.’

‘Cheers.’ They tapped their mugs together. ‘Is that an Irish toast?’ Carole asked, once she’d had a sip of her tea.

‘It is. We’ve loads. You name an occasion, we Irish have got it covered.’

‘Not just the Irish. I’ve one we’re fond of in Oz for you, too. It’s very profound.’

‘Oh yes?’

‘Yes. Ready?’

‘Ready, but hurry up, Carole, because my tea’s getting cold.’

‘Here we go . . . Cheers, big ears!’

The two women were still laughing when the moon came out from behind the cloud five minutes later.