Chapter 32
The Captain’s Christmas Dinner was to be held in a restaurant Hannah hadn’t yet visited. The Porthole was larger than the Vivaldi, but more exclusive than the Harvest Basket. Louis explained its choice – it would have the best views as they sailed past the Pitons – St Lucia’s iconic mountains.
With a buffet-style traditional Caribbean Christmas menu on offer, it also allowed for a more relaxed ambiance than the previous dinner Hannah had attended, as well as being able to cater to a far larger number of passengers.
It was sumptuously decorated with red-flocked walls and golden columns, would have been spectacular even without all the additional Christmas glitz; it reminded Hannah more than any other place on the Ballygowan of the image of a pirate ship she’d toyed with right at the start of the cruise.
Back when she was in a very dark place and making crazy images in her head of the Ballygowan’s captain as a Long John Silver lookalike had been all that kept her going.
With a ceiling painted gold to reflect light from the chandeliers, the room had been further enhanced with a small forest of Christmas trees distributed between the tables, all decorated with matching red, gold and green-themed decorations and warm white lights.
The effect was stunning, and she was glad she’d arrived promptly enough to admire it all before the place was heaving with diners.
Reggae Christmas carols were being played at a discreet volume by a small band in a corner, the familiarity of some of the tunes with an added Caribbean twist made her smile.
She accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, telling herself it would be the only one she would need to consume this evening, a warm buzz still in place from the rum punches from their beach afternoon.
She smiled as she glanced around, aware she knew nobody in the room but not feeling intimidated. Louis would be here any moment.
‘Oh, hi there. It’s Hannah, isn’t it?’
An officer, not dressed in white formal evening wear, instead in regular uniform, grinned in greeting. ‘We met on the bridge on day one. First Officer of the Watch Tim Price at your service.’
He extended a hand for her to shake, and while his warm and slightly clammy fingers encircled hers, he added, ‘The captain has spoken about you. A lot. He wanted me to ensure you’re being entertained while he briefs the bridge crew about the evening sail. He’ll be here soon.’
Hannah frowned. ‘That’s kind of you, Tim. I’m fine though. I was just admiring this beautiful room.’
‘I think it’s a bit old-school, if I’m being honest. Very sumptuous and rich, like something you’d see in Buckingham Palace, minus the corgis.
I wonder what happened to the corgis, when the old queen died.
Do you think they had them embalmed and shoved in with her to keep her company, like they did with the Pharaohs? ’
‘Um, no. Probably not.’ Hannah pulled her hand from his and took a sip of champagne.
‘Just a joke. So, how’s it all going with our brand-new captain, then? It’s a wonder he can concentrate on his job with someone like you on board. You’ve turned heads – that’s for sure.’
There weren’t many people Hannah took an instant dislike to. Her years working in the deli had provided her with a certain level of acceptance for people and their foibles, but occasionally she met someone who had her wanting to take a literal step back. And Tim Price was one of those people.
Before she had to formulate an answer, Louis swooped in, all smiles and greetings as he passed other guests and headed in her direction.
‘There you are,’ he said, easing past Tim. ‘I’m so sorry I was delayed.’
Hannah held his eye, reassured him all was well.
‘You’re due on the bridge, aren’t you, Tim?’ Louis said.
‘On my way, Captain. Wanted to take the opportunity to say hello to a few guests – wish them a happy Christmas from the people doing all the work. That sort of thing.’
Eventually Tim took the hint.
‘There aren’t many of the crew I struggle with, but he’s one of them,’ Louis said once Tim was out of earshot. ‘But never mind any of that. You look sensational this evening.’
‘As do you,’ she replied, running her fingers down the crisp edge of his dress uniform jacket.
Just like everything aboard the Ballygowan, the meal was incredible.
Prepared especially to reflect the region past which they were sailing, the Christmas feast was bursting with Caribbean flavour.
As well as turkey and ham, glazed and roasted in ways Hannah recognised, there was jerk pork and curried goat.
Macaroni cheese and yams, plantains and sweet potatoes replaced roast potatoes and sprouts in a riot of flavour.
For those who had room left, there was black cake for dessert.
Made with dried fruits soaked in rum and wine and blended into a spiced batter, it was far more pudding-like and boozy than traditional fruitcake.
‘So much for me staying away from alcohol while I’m on board,’ Louis joked as he tucked into a portion.
‘It’s worth it, though,’ Hannah said, attempting to lick the sticky traces of cake from her spoon.
Louis leant into her, whispering directly into her ear. ‘Can I be that spoon later?’
‘Maybe. If you play your cards right,’ she said.
‘Whatever you want me to do with the cards, I’m doing it,’ he said, gazing at her as though there was nobody else in the room.
The view of the Pitons, like a moving canvas as they sailed past the World Heritage Site, was very impressive.
‘They’re a kilometre tall, from the seabed,’ Louis said as they mingled with some of the guests. ‘They were created about thirty to forty million years ago, if my research is correct. Hard to believe, isn’t it?’
Hannah lost track of the people she was introduced to, the rest of the evening passing in a warm blur, her focus remaining on not drinking too much so she could fully enjoy the rest of the night with Louis.
And she wasn’t disappointed. Eventually, they escaped, headed for her cabin, and finally Hannah was able to unbutton the starched fabric of his jacket, push it from his shoulders and do as she had promised. No cards required.
Afterwards, lying in the crook of his arm, Hannah had one last thing to say before she nodded off to sleep.
‘Happy Christmas, Louis.’
‘Best Christmas ever,’ he replied, voice heavy with fatigue and contentment.
Louis woke in the small hours of the morning to an insistent buzzing coming from a phone.
Scratching around to locate the offending noise, he picked up one handset, then the other from the bedside table.
Both had gone dark again, and in all honesty, he was so comfortable it felt impossible to move.
Hannah spooned against him, fast asleep and breathing rhythmically.
And he was really tired. Even as he had the thought he should check more carefully, his eyelids sank, far too heavy to hold open any longer, and he slipped back into the abyss.
With no idea how much time had passed, the buzzing came again.
This time Louis thought it was a swarm of insects in a sudden and unsettling dream as he surfaced from sleep.
It was still night, no light yet dared to disturb the edges of the curtains as he fumbled again for a phone and this time looked more carefully to see a text message bannered across the screen.
Captain needed on bridge asap
Shit.
He checked the time on the message – it had only just been sent. Why hadn’t anyone used the radio? It might have been an indelicate way to wake him, but it would have been more effective.
Had they already knocked on his cabin door? Maybe he should have suggested he and Hannah spend the night there. Too late to second-guess now.
Dressing hurriedly, he pressed a kiss against the small part of Hannah’s forehead visible between her hair and the duvet she’d snuggled beneath without stirring, letting himself out of her cabin and shooting along the corridor towards the bridge.
Concern was written across the faces of those he saw on his arrival.
‘Status?’ he said, opting for action over niceties.
‘Where’s your radio?’ Tim said.
‘It’s—’ Louis felt for it on his belt, realised it wasn’t in its customary slot and faltered.
‘Told you, didn’t I?’ Tim said to the room, and Louis felt adrift again.
‘What is it?’ he said, searching the assembled officers for an answer.
‘There was a fire in one of the engine rooms,’ Tim said, clearly enjoying Louis being on the back foot.
Fire on board any ship was one of the deepest fears for any sailor.
To be stuck between burning or drowning was a terrifying choice.
As a result, every conceivable effort was made on a ship such as the Ballygowan to eliminate the possibility.
Rigorous fire safety checks and training were mandatory. But accidents were still possible.
‘What happened?’ he said.
‘It’s out, Louis,’ Maria said, frowning as she spoke. ‘They think it was a spark from some loose wiring. They were on it, though. It didn’t even set off the engine room alarms. They did good.’
‘Take me there,’ he said, grabbing a spare radio from a changing point and allowing Maria to lead the way.
Ruth hadn’t felt as energised for years. She struggled to pinpoint a Christmas Day she’d enjoyed more and both kids were buzzing. She might have cleaned out her bank account to finance this trip, but it had all been worth it.
She crept from the cabin, having stayed long enough to be sure both Millie and Nathan had crashed out and were fast asleep.
There might have been a slight tinge of an alcohol-induced snore about Nathan’s breathing, after Ruth had also allowed him a glass of lager with dinner, but he wasn’t so inebriated she needed to worry about him.
Teddy was waiting for her in one of the late-night bars. They’d spent the evening together, managing to squeeze an extra place setting on the table she’d booked, and Nathan hadn’t even kicked off when the waiter assumed them to be a family group.
‘They’re asleep,’ she said by way of greeting, smiling at the glass of red waiting for her on the low table between the seats Teddy had requisitioned.
‘Cheers,’ he said, lifting his glass.
‘Cheers to you too.’ She slid into the chair, taking a large mouthful of ‘Mrs Claus’ Merlot’ and resting her head back. ‘What an epic day.’
‘Agreed.’
Ruth glanced across. They hadn’t had a chance to talk about anything to do with Louis, or anything else for that matter, while they were at dinner – hardly anyone could get a word in with Millie supplying every single detail of their snorkelling trip.
Any other space in the conversation was filled by Nathan, each sentence beginning with ‘Keisha says…’ Ruth had never been happier about being silent.
And yet important things remained to be discussed.
‘We didn’t get to talk about Louis,’ she said. ‘How did it go?’
Teddy nodded. ‘In essence I said what you suggested. I don’t know why I didn’t do it years ago.’
‘And how did he react?’
‘Happy to hear it, I think. Sometimes it’s hard to tell. Louis is good at turning to sarcasm rather than dealing with tough situations, and I’ve always been wound up by that.’
‘But he loves you. Bottom line. And you love him. So – what else matters?’
‘You make it sound so simple…’
‘Yes. And I know it’s anything but simple in practice, Ted. God, how well I know that. But there comes a point, doesn’t there, when it’s time to stop messing around and say it as it is?’
Teddy frowned, sipped at his drink and turned to face her. ‘Are you still talking about Louis?’
‘If you want.’
‘What do you want, Ruth?’
‘If you truly want to know, Teddy, it’s this.
I want this.’ She gestured between the two of them, enough emotion contained in her motion to threaten to tip her glass as her fingers flicked against it.
‘I’m not saying I want it to be like we had before – I wouldn’t expect you to feel that way about me again, but this…
being with you and spending time together.
That’s what I want… It always has been.’
Her voice hitched, and she fell silent as she did her best to deal with the ball of emotion lodged in her throat.
Stared at him as his expression became inscrutable.
Convinced herself in those seconds that she’d blown it – she’d gone in all guns blazing and thrown caution to the wind and, unlike all those years ago when she’d thrown more than caution to the wind in the Pink Pineapple and had spent thirty years regretting it, there would be nothing about what she’d just said that she would ever regret.
Because it was what every fibre of her body wanted.
If only Teddy would reply.
If only he would say something…