Chapter Two
Daniel met the shining eyes of the old lady who sat behind the table. “These are something,” he said, smiling at his memories. “We always had crackers at Christmas. I loved pulling them.”
“I have one just for you,” the vendor said.
Her accent was unusual—sort of a mix of Irish, English, and Romany, Daniel thought. He normally had a good ear for accents, but he could not have sworn to hers. Where did she come from, he wondered, having always had an interest in genealogy and family origins.
“You do?” Daniel asked, his eyebrows drawn up in surprise. “Is it a party favor?”
She nodded, smiling so that her cheeks mounded into apricot-like plumpness. “This is a special one designed with you in mind, Captain.”
“Really?” he asked, inordinately pleased. “I have no one to pull it with.”
“Don’t worry none about that,” the lady said, reaching under the table and bringing out a cardboard box that looked the size of a long hot dog carton. Ink stamps of green holly leaves and red berries decorated it. A red ribbon, tied in a bow, held it shut. “You are staying aboard tonight.”
“It seems so,” Daniel said, tilting his head to one side. How does she know? He glanced around as though seeking someone with whom to share this odd experience.
“You’re getting tired,” she observed, holding out the Christmas cracker box. “You must pull the cracker at midnight tonight. Don’t go to sleep first.”
“Tonight?” Daniel asked, reaching for it. The box was heavier than he’d expected. “Not at dinner tomorrow?”
“At midnight.”
She seemed so insistent that Daniel nodded obediently. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Set that alarm on your phone,” she advised.
He raised an eyebrow.
“Now,” she directed, pointing at the pocket hiding his phone.
Chuckling, Daniel pulled it out and set the alarm one-handed. “There.” He tucked his phone away. “Merry Christmas…?”
“Aunty,” the old woman said. “Everyone calls me Aunty.”
“Merry Christmas, Aunty,” he repeated. “I’m Daniel.”
“I know it,” she said, crinkling her eyes at him. “And, Daniel? Take heart. Be strong. And don’t hesitate to reach out.”
“Excuse me?” he asked, his heart unexpectedly pounding.
“You heard me. Now get on with you,” she said, waving him away. “You’re holding up the line.”
* * *