Chapter 15
My first impulse was to drop everything and go back upstairs to join the party, but in a rare moment of sanity I decided I would change out of my travel-stained dress and have a quick shower, and although the water pressure wasn’t great, it was reasonable.
And I hadn’t had any time to spend on my appearance for quite a while, and I didn’t want to appear looking as though I had been living out of a suitcase for a week, even though I had.
There might be some nice cultured and interesting people on board.
I didn’t want to feel like a slightly battered divorcee from the country, I wanted to look like one of them.
The thought did cross my mind that Jack might be there too, but I dismissed this almost immediately. Who cared what he thought?
I lathered up some lovely lavender-scented shampoo and, feeling almost like the girl in the shower advertisements who was almost always ecstatic, I tilted my head back to enjoy the feeling of the water sliding through my hair.
I was a mature woman, I reminded myself. I was gradually gaining control of my life. I was looking forward to a glamorous week of interesting chatter, meeting new people and seeing lovely places.
At that precise moment the temperature of the water cut out to freezing and I yodelled quite loudly with the shock.
It took me some time after that to rinse off, dithering, trampling about and fiddling with the temperature knobs on the wall and putting my head under the cold water as much as I dared.
This wasn’t nearly so much fun. And then something else happened and the water was boiling hot again.
And then just as quickly it went back to cold.
I staggered out of the shower, wrapped a towel around my wet hair and dragged on the dark-blue towelling robe hanging behind the door.
Then, wrapping it around me, I sat down heavily on my bed to get my breath back.
This was when I found out that the lovely wide bed was in fact two smaller ones pushed together, and as I sat down they moved apart and I fell through the gap.
For a moment I was stranded, wedged on my bottom with my legs in the air, and I had a horrible vision of what it would be like if someone eventually noticed I was missing and had to come and find me and drag me out.
I did some energetic wriggling and tugged on the bedclothes, managing to drag the wool blankets down onto my head.
Things were undoubtedly getting worse by the moment.
At last I got onto my hands and knees and pulled myself up.
The towel around my head had fallen off over my face, and I pushed it away, spluttering with irritation.
This was not in the least bit mature, controlled or glamourous.
Still, I told myself, trying to put a positive spin on things, I was certainly refreshed and awake even if my head was still cold. I would find out what I had done wrong and never do it again.
I pushed the beds back together again and straightened the blankets out for later and then looked for some clean clothes. I eventually decided on some new smart blue trousers and a white shirt patterned with little blue dots. And some white trainers, which I believed were still in vogue.
I hoped I looked elegantly stylish, and I toyed with the idea of a casually knotted scarf at my neck.
After a few minutes fussing about in front of the mirror I eventually gave up on that.
I still believed that only French women could achieve the proper look.
They must be taught that in school along with attractive hair tousling and pouting.
Three things that were probably a lot more useful in life than algebra or learning the dates of Royalist battles.
I dried off my hair and applied some makeup, the first time I had done that for days. Actually, for weeks if I was honest. I had long ago decided there was no point trying to impress myself or my son on the few occasions when I caught sight of him.
And I rather enjoyed it, the rituals of patting on foundation and blending in some blusher and eyeshadow. I chose a brighter lipstick than I was used to and sprayed on a perfume sample I found in the bottom of my makeup bag.
I took a deep breath and a last hopeful look at myself in the mirror on the wardrobe door. I looked okay, not bad actually. Then, feeling very excited, I made my way out of my cabin, following the sounds of the party coming from the top deck.
* * *
It was an attractive space, some sunbeds, a retractable canopy overhead, glass and metal balustrades around the edge to stop us from falling into the sea below.
There was even a small pool at the far end, the water sparkling and blue in the evening sunshine.
I imagined myself in there on a hot day, perhaps with a cocktail waiting for me on one of the tables. It was a lovely prospect.
The first person I saw was Anna, in a red dress that made the most of her sculptured bosom, sitting, laughing, accompanied by two men, and behind her were two women with sour expressions I took to be their wives.
I’d forgotten about that, Anna’s ability to turn the flirt switch to warp factor five when it suited her.
Harriet was further away, deep in conversation with Evelyn, and they waved me over to join them.
As I made my way forward through the chattering groups of people, a man, rather stout and red faced, caught my arm.
He waved an empty champagne glass at me.
‘Couldn’t get me a refill, could you?’ he said with a wink. ‘I’ll make it worth your while.’
I took his glass, rather puzzled. But then perhaps this was the happy, carefree atmosphere that the Atalanta encouraged? I saw a young woman behind a bar in one corner who was busy opening a new bottle and I went to patiently wait while she dealt with the foil and the cork.
She looked rather confused until I explained what I was doing.
‘But madame, we will deal with that,’ she said, horrified, snatching the glass away from me.
‘Well, can I have some too,’ I said hopefully, looking at her name badge, ‘Mila?’
Mila looked as though she might burst into tears and quickly poured me some.
I took it and pointed towards the man who had given me his empty glass.
‘Ah yes,’ Mila said, ‘I see.’
I went to talk to Evelyn and Harriet who were comfortably ensconced on armchairs with blue and white striped cushions.
‘I think he thought I was a waitress,’ I said, explaining the recent encounter.
‘Some men think all women are waitresses of one sort or another, don’t they?’ Evelyn said with a wink. ‘I was hoping that sort of thing had died a death by now.’
‘Aren’t the cabins gorgeous?’ Harriet said. ‘So well thought out. There’s lots of storage space. And the towels are lovely too.’
‘Have you tried the shower?’ I said. ‘The water temperature is a bit unpredictable.’
Evelyn nodded sympathetically. ‘Douglas and I rented a house in Madrid where the hot water cut out whenever I used the washing machine. It was very unpleasant. But occasionally useful to remember when he had annoyed me. Perhaps you should ask if something can be done about it?’
Another couple appeared at the top of the staircase to join the party. He was a tall, thin man in a suit and tie which seemed unnecessarily formal, and his partner, a woman in a floral shift dress and cardigan.
‘Ah, I’ve met them already,’ Evelyn said, ‘Craig and Dawn. A nice enough couple. He is a retired car dealer and she has a lot of allergies. One of those people who always has a tissue up her sleeve and is constantly worried about what’s in the food.
I met Paige and Peter too, but they are honeymooners, a pair of sweeties.
I don’t expect we will see much of them. ’
‘And the man with the red face who thought I was a waitress?’ I asked.
‘Roy somebody. And his wife, Eileen,’ Evelyn said, ‘they may be enormous fun. Or they may not. I haven’t made up my mind yet.’
The man in the white uniform I had seen earlier was circulating around the sundeck, shaking hands and being charming, and at last he reached us.
‘Lady Evelyn,’ he said, bowing respectfully over her hand, ‘come stai? I hope you are settled in?’
Lady Evelyn? Well, I didn’t expect that.
‘Marvellous, thank you, Rocco,’ she said, smiling up at him, ‘and this is my goddaughter Harriet and her friend Lizzie.’
He fussed around us for a few minutes asking about our journey and what we were hoping to see on the trip. Unable to resist the lure of a man in uniform for long, Anna drifted up to join us and be introduced.
‘Such a beautiful boat,’ she said, ‘and everything looks so lovely. I hear it’s been recently refurbished.’
Captain Rocco smiled, showing a flash of gold on one of his molars.
‘Certo, madame. This is only the first year we have done this trip. A beautiful part of the world. Bellissima. And my wife Anjelica is joining us this time, which will be marvellous for her as well as for me. I spent the last few years sailing around the Greek Islands, and she has seen them all, so for the last few trips she didn’t come with me.
We are just awaiting the last guests to arrive and one of the replacement crew, and then we will be able to leave. ’
He looked around, his expression momentarily distracted at the sight of people he hadn’t yet greeted.
‘Ah! Il signor e la signora McDougal. Welcome!’
Mila hurried forwards to offer them a tray of champagne and when Mrs McDougal reeled back as though she had been offered strychnine, she went to find her some orange juice.
‘I see you have met Craig and Dawn McDougal and Roy and Eileen already,’ Evelyn said to Anna. ‘Do tell us all about them.’
Anna pulled a face. ‘Craig asked me what car I drove and Roy seemed a few drinks ahead of me. But they seemed very pleasant. Roy used to be a CEO of a finance company. He found it hilarious that he thought you were a crew member.’
‘He said he would make it worth my while,’ I said.