Chapter 9
L ife had taught Maureen a few things along the way, and something that never ceased to surprise her was how true the old saying about not being able to judge a book by its cover was. This was on her mind; sitting in her bucket seat between Niall and Donal, she stared at the woman flashing her audience an ear-to-ear smile now and again as her fingers banged up and down on the piano keys. The crowd she’d brought in with her lively rendition of Jerry Lee Lewis’s ‘Great Balls of Fire’ were clapping along, and that was when it dawned on Maureen who the pianist was.
Carole from Australia. The stand-offish woman whom she’d met at the lift earlier. Although it was hard to believe this animated performer with the curled, bouncy hair and red lips was the same nondescript woman she’d tried and failed to engage in conversation. Maureen leaned over to Donal and shouted in his ear as to who the pianist was, but the rapt expression on Niall’s face caught her attention. As the song ended, Carole thanked the crowd who’d gathered around and told them she’d be back after a short break.
‘That was great altogether.’ Niall’s eyes were shining. ‘The way her fingers flew over those keys.’
‘Why don’t you go up and say hello to her, Niall.’ Maureen inclined her head to where Carole was pouring herself a glass of water from the jug on the bar. ‘Tell her how much you enjoyed her set. Donal and I met her earlier. She’s an Australian from Sydney, and her name’s Carole.'
Niall morphed into a shy, fidgety teenager. ‘Ah no, I’m heading back to the cabin now. I’ll see you at seven.’
‘Uh oh. You’ve got that look, Mo,’ Donal said, clearly amused.
‘And what look would that be?’
‘That matchmaking look of yours.’
He knew her so well, Maureen thought with a smile, suggesting they head back to their cabin to freshen up before dinner.
Maureen would liken her first sighting of the Lido Buffet to standing in front of one of the manmade wonders of the earth: the Taj Mahal, perhaps, or the Great Wall of China. The buffet was a breathtaking spread of temptation and, leaving Donal to mind the table they’d found by the window, she set off in a daze with all her senses tingling. Did she fancy Asian or Mexican? A carvery or seafood? Oh, and the salads! There was every kind under the sun. As for the dessert counters, she’d investigate those later. There was so much choice Maureen was momentarily frozen with inertia, standing there with her nose twitching at all the delicious smells like a rabbit in a field sniffing for danger.
‘It’s hard to know where to start.’ John, The Gamblers' drummer, mooched alongside her, startling Maureen from her food trance.
‘That’s not a problem Davey’s having, I see.’ Maureen’s eyes flitted to where the keyboardist was loading his plate sky high and she laughed. ‘I have to tell you, John, you’re looking very smart in your chino trousers, so you are.’ Maureen had noticed John’s get-up when they’d met him and the other two lads at the entrance to the Lido Buffet as arranged, but this was her first chance to compliment him.
‘Thank you, Maureen. They were my daughter Breda’s choice. She took me shopping for the cruise.’
‘My girls and I did the same thing and your Breda’s done you proud.’
John looked pleased. ‘You know, I think I fancy roast pork. You can’t beat a bit of crackling.’
‘Go for your life, boyo!’ He’d a definite swagger as he moved toward the carvery, resulting from her complimenting the chinos Maureen suspected. Her head swung this way and that to settle on soup. It seemed as good a starting point as any, so she ladled the chicken and corn broth into a bowl when Donal popped up alongside the tureen.
‘You want to see the plate Davey’s just sat down with, Mo.’ Donal picked up a bowl himself. ‘Chicken and corn sounds nice.’
‘He’s not the only one, Donal.’ They glanced around and saw people carrying plates that must have been three times their usual portion size. ‘I can see we’re going to have to watch ourselves because if we don’t show a degree of discipline we’ll wind up the size of a bus by the time we head home.’
‘You’re not wrong there, Mo.’ Donal, who’d picked up a set of tongs, put them back. ‘I don’t think I’ll have a roll with my soup after all.’
‘And I’ll only have one dessert,’ Maureen added.
They sealed the deal with a nod and then sanctimoniously carried their soup bowls, minus bread of any description, back to the table. Niall had joined them and was tucking into battered fish. It was agreed between the group of five that they’d landed on their feet with this gig aboard the Mayan Princess .
Maureen wished she had a roll to wipe up the remains of her soup when she saw Carole, the pianist, holding a plate while scanning the busy buffet restaurant for a table. Not one to miss an opportunity, her hand shot up. ‘Yoo-hoo, Carole, over here.’
Carole tracked the source of the voice and frowned.
‘I don’t think she remembers you, Mo,' Donal said, spooning up the dregs of his soup.
Maureen was already out of her seat, oblivious to Niall slinking down in his. She bustled over to the bewildered woman and explained how they’d met briefly at the lifts earlier in the day, before gushing over her piano playing in the atrium and insisting she join them. ‘We’ll be fellow musos altogether like.’ Maureen beamed.
If she didn’t want to appear rude then Carole had no choice but to follow her over to the table.
‘Bunch up next to Niall there,’ Maureen bossed as subtle as a bull in a china shop before launching into a round of introductions. ‘I was just telling Carole how much we enjoyed her set in the Atrium.’
‘You were very good,’ Niall said, a red flush creeping slowly up his neck. For a moment, Maureen thought she would have to stay put to ensure conversation at the table didn’t peter out awkwardly because John and Davey were intent on eating like pigs at a trough. Then, to her surprise, Niall asked Carole if it was her first cruise ship gig; she was a newbie just like them.
‘Who are you sharing your cabin with, Carole?’ Davey asked, telling her about Kevin, the dry, Canadian comedian they were dossing down with.
‘Three dancers from the shows in the Grand Theatre. One girl is from Brazil, the other two are Argentinian, and their English is as limited as my Spanish and Portuguese. It’s strange sharing a room with strangers at my age. I haven’t done that since my backpacking, hostel days.’
Maureen satisfied the ice was broken, looked to Donal. ‘Shall we?’
‘Don’t mind if we do, Mo.’
Before they got up from the table, however, Maureen caught a glimpse of a white-clad, tanned fine figure of a fella striding through the restaurant. A hush fell over the tables, and heads turned in his wake.
‘Look at yer Captain BeeGee acting the cock o’ the walk, like,’ Donal sniffed.
Maureen was thinking how well he’d look on the cover of one of those Mills and Boon books Rosemary Farrell enjoyed, in his Captain's uniform. However, she decided not to voice this, instead hauling Donal off to the buffet. ‘The Asian cuisine looks interesting.’ She eyed the black bean stir fry before glancing back at the table, delighted to see Niall and Carole in animated conversation. ‘Well, would you look at that. Mark my words, Donal, tis a shipboard romance those two are headed for.’
‘Wasn’t the show something, Mo?’ Donal said, emerging from the bathroom having finished his ablutions.
Maureen concurred, setting aside the newsletter she'd helped herself to from the guests’ desk, having seen other passengers leafing through it. As employees aboard the ship, their copy wasn't slid under their cabin door each evening. Donal switched the light off, and the boxy room was plunged into total a blackout. ‘Stay right where you are, Donal, and put that light back on. Sure, you could trip over and break your neck. It’s so dark.’
Obediently Donal switched the light back on and pulled the bathroom door so he had a chink of light to guide him over to the bed.
‘And the show was wonderful. I couldn’t believe my eyes when Pawel made Tomasina vanish like that. Magic is what it was.’
‘They were very clever, and wasn’t it refreshing not to see any of that old pulling a rabbit out of a hat malarkey?’
‘It was. I wonder if Tomasina will reveal any tricks of the trade. I don't fancy my chances getting Pawel to talk.’
‘But Mo, that would ruin the magic.’
Maureen thought about that for a moment and decided he was right. ‘You’re a wise man, Donal McCarthy. Night, night.’ They exchanged a kiss and settled in for the night. After a while, Maureen realised she could feel the gentle rise and fall of the boat over the waves, and she groaned.
‘Are you alright, Mo?’
‘I’m not feeling too clever, as it happens.’
‘I didn’t think you got seasick.’
Maureen could sense him frowning. ‘I don’t. It’s the memory of all those desserts I ate.’ There’d been cheesecake, pannacotta, a fruit tartlet, and chocolate brownie with a raspberry compote, with small portions of each, granted. Still, it was a rich combination now churning unhappily in her tummy. ‘Why didn’t you stop me after the pannacotta?’
‘I didn’t dare. You were like a woman possessed, Mo. No one was coming between you and the dessert counter, and I’d seen how you told that woman off who was helping herself to all the watermelon.’
‘I was amid a sugar rush, Donal, and there was no need for yer woman to be so greedy.’ A tad hypocritical, given her four servings of dessert. She kept that thought to herself. ‘I dread what Aisling will be like when she sees the Lido Buffet’s extensive dessert offerings. She’ll be like your round one in the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory story, who didn’t meet a good end. He fell into the Chocolate River from memory. Mind you, I can think of worst ways to go.’
‘Stop thinking about the desserts. It won’t make you feel any better.’ Donal was quiet for a moment then, in what Maureen suspected was an attempt to distract her, said, ‘Niall and Carole seemed to get along well. You might be right about the shipboard romance.’
It worked because she forgot about her poor tummy, recalling how Niall and Carole had discovered a shared love of Captain and Tenille’s music. ‘They certainly did, Donal. Although she’s a hard one to work out, is Carole.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘She went very quiet when I asked after her family.’ Maureen couldn’t understand why someone wasn’t eager to chat about their nearest and dearest, especially when she’d just finished telling Carole all about her and Donal’s children and their grandchildren, but Carole’s expression had become guarded when Maureen had asked if she had children. She’d mumbled she had a daughter, and that had been the end of that.
Something was going on with Carole, and Maureen would get to the bottom of it because Niall's wife had let him down badly. Whomever he got involved with needed to be mindful of that. A person’s heart was precious and needed to be handled with care. Maureen remembered something else then and groaned again. ‘Donal, I wish we hadn’t had the cheese, crackers and wine after dinner.’
‘We’ll be more disciplined tomorrow, Mo. Sure, it was the novelty of having it all there on offer. We were like children let loose in a sweet shop, so we were. In no time, we’ll be like those folks who work at McDonald's and can’t stand the burgers because they’re sick of seeing them at the end of the day.’
Maureen found it very hard to believe she could ever get sick of cheesecake, pannacotta and chocolate. The fruit tart, however, she could take or leave.