Chapter 31
Three weeks later - Port of Los Angeles
M aureen and Donal stood fidgeting from foot to foot in the foyer of the Atrium in anxious anticipation of welcoming all the family aboard the Mayan Princess . They’d arranged for John, Davey, Niall, and Carole to meet them on the Lido Deck for the Sail Away party. Carole was eager to be introduced to the family she'd heard so much about. A flurry of excited passengers passed by, looking about them wide-eyed, newbies to cruise ship life. Maureen wondered if they looked like that when they first stepped onboard, marvelling over how much had happened in such a short time.
Carole and Niall were like smitten teenagers and had been told to get a room more than once in the Lido Buffet. It was enough to put you off your roast pork and crackling, Davey had declared, nevertheless crunching into the pork fat with gusto. The change in Carole since Maureen’s first meeting with her waiting for the lift was phenomenal. Emma had written to her a week after Carole bravely spoke to Carlos. She’d had a lightness to her step and a glow to her skin ever since. Niall could take some credit for the latter because love couldn’t be bought in a bottle and slapped on the face for instant results. Maureen knew herself; love was the best potion of all. She squeezed Donal’s arm.
Initially, Carole and Emma had cleared the air over the internet, graduating to heartfelt phone calls, which also involved much cooing down the phone to little Charlotte whom Carole couldn’t wait to meet when her contract was up. What would happen to her and Niall then? Maureen wondered. Time would tell.
A hush fell over the Atrium as Captain Franco limped past, still managing to ooze ‘I’m in command’ importance. ‘How’s the ankle, Captain Franco?’ Maureen asked. She strongly suspected Donal of foot-tripping Captain Franco as he masterfully strode past their table in the Lido Buffet the night before. He’d been humming ‘You Should Be Dancing’ at the time.
Captain Franco paused to address her. ‘It is tender, but I will live. Thank you for asking.’
Maureen preened under the Captain’s intense, unwavering gaze. He was masterful and polite.
‘It was fortunate for me that the young man from the Latino Nights show was on hand to perform first aid.’
‘Tony the Man— er Tony and, yes, he’d not long passed his first aid course.’ Tony, who said he wasn’t stalking the Captain, he just happened to be there in the Lido Buffet too, had been in his element producing a bandage like Pawel in the middle of his illusionist act. He’d deftly wrapped it around the Captain’s ankle and sent him on his way before he knew what was happening.
Now, hearing Donal break into ‘Stayin’ Alive’ as the Captain strode off, Maureen trod on his foot.
‘They’re not here yet?’ Tomasina appeared with Pawel by her side. She had two boxes of Polish Wedel chocolates to gift Tom and Quinn as a thank you for their help with Piotr.
Quinn and Tom had tried phoning the number Maureen emailed through for the Polish lad and, not getting anywhere, had gone round to the address. Piotr had reluctantly let them into the house that reeked of damp, and they’d not liked what they’d seen or heard. Drug paraphernalia littered the kitchen worktop. Piotr had assured them that it didn’t belong to him, but places to rent were scarce and pickings slim; he had to take what he could get, which wasn’t much on what he was earning. It had transpired the young Pole was being taken advantage of in a busy Dublin restaurant’s kitchen where he was working for cash in hand: slave wages. When Tom had enquired why he’d stayed in Dublin when things were clearly grim, he’d said, ‘I don’t want my mama and sister to know I have failed.’
The lads hadn’t messed about taking Piotr under their wing and telling him to pack his things because they weren’t getting back to their mother-in-law that they’d left him living in squalor. Piotr had come to stay in room one of the guesthouse for a few nights, becoming acquainted with the little red fox and Mrs Flaherty’s fry-ups. Quinn decided to give him a go in the kitchen of his bistro and reckoned Piotr, under his watchful eye, had the making of a good sous chef. Things had a way of working out and Paula, one of the waitresses employed at Quinn's, had a friend looking for someone to rent a room in the flat she’d taken a lease out on. Piotr's new wage meant it was within reach. He was even managing to send money home.
Tomasina said she owed Maureen everything and had gifted her with Polish treats, too, but Maureen said that was nonsense. It was just what you did when you were working on a cruise ship and had become one big family.
Speaking of which . . .
‘There they are!’ Maureen cried, waving out.
The End.