Chapter 2
Fourteenth of April, bang on the dot of ten o’clock, a shiny people carrier with me and my luggage already inside it, pulled up outside Diana’s house. She opened her front door before the vehicle had even stopped. I was yelping with excitement out of the car window, causing the net curtain brigade in her road to start twitching.
‘We are going! We are actually going!’ I said. ‘Get your bags out here. There’s a very nice man driving us, called Craig, who will help. Just think, in three hours we will be boarding the ship. I hardly slept last night I was so excited.’
‘Me neither,’ she said, ‘although actually I’m feeling really nervous. Next door’s cat will have to rely on his other slaves, I have warned my neighbour and left him a spare key in case there are any emergencies, and I’ve told Eric I can’t look after the baby for their anniversary weekend. He didn’t like that at all. I’ve repacked my bags at least four times. I bet I’ve forgotten something.’
I counted things off on my fingers. ‘Passport, all the documents I sent you, insurance stuff, bank cards. Apparently they don’t accept cash on the ship. Sunscreen, sunglasses, paracetamol. One of the photographers will meet us when we get on board to take pictures of us being excited.’
Craig came forward and took her cases and bags, stowing them into the boot with mine.
Diana’s neighbour Tom suddenly appeared from next door; his thinning hair rather rumpled as though he had just woken up.
‘Have a great time, and don’t worry about the cat, I’ll look after him,’ he said.
Diana smiled at him. ‘Thanks Tom, though why I should be concerned when he’s not actually my cat. He has plenty of other places to dine…’
Tom chuckled. ‘Cats, eh? I hope the weather improves for you. I’ve been checking and as I suspected, it doesn’t look too good for the next few days.’ He held out a cardboard folder stuffed with sheets of paper. ‘My new phone number, the doctor’s number, and a couple of things to look out for in Cadiz. I went there a couple of times when Polly was alive, and we thought it was lovely although that was years ago. So be careful. Only drink bottled water, don’t eat any ice cream or shellfish, and use that hand sanitiser I got for you. Here’s a bit of a long-range weather forecast that I’ve printed out for you. It’s going to be really bad when you are crossing the Bay of Biscay so stay away from the edge.’
‘That’s kind, thank you.’
‘And if there’s any problem here, I’ll let you know. If the weather clears up, I’ll mow your grass, and I’ll be sure to put the recycling out. Send me a text if you get the chance, let me know how you’re getting on.’
‘Of course.’
Tom’s eyes were rather sad.
‘I’ll miss you not being next door,’ he said at last, ‘we’ve got used to each other in the last year, haven’t we? Anyway, happy trails and come home safe.’
‘I will,’ she said, ‘I’m only going to be away for ten days.’
‘A lot can happen in ten days,’ he said mournfully, ‘you look after yourself.’
Diana got into the car and Tom closed the door carefully for her.
‘Look after her,’ he said to me with a meaningful look.
I could see him in the side mirror, waving as we drove away.
He was a nice man, kind, helpful, and presentable, if one ignored his taste for unattractive cardigans and tartan slippers. I tried to look at him dispassionately, realising he was probably about the same age as we were. To me he looked and behaved like an old man. So we probably looked like old women to young people. Which was depressing. And rather surprising. Whenever I looked at myself in a mirror, I thought I still looked pretty much the same as I always had. And of course, that couldn’t possibly be the case.
And then I looked across at my sister. Even at sixty she still had a lovely complexion, glorious blue eyes and cheekbones to die for.
‘He’s in love with you, you know that don’t you?’ I teased. ‘You could do worse. I’m just saying.’
‘Don’t be daft,’ Diana said.
To start off with, I chatted with the driver about other people he had driven: had he been on a cruise, did he like driving, had he had anyone famous in the back? And then we settled down a bit and talked about what we were hoping to see when we got onto the ship.
Craig put in one AirPod, having been reassured that we were warm enough, comfortable and didn’t need any more bottled water. He should know better than that; to keep offering water to a couple of sixty-year-old women is asking for trouble.
According to the digital display on the satnav screen, he was listening to a podcast on the Mayan civilisation, which occasionally provoked a chuckle. I wouldn’t have thought there were many amusing things to know about human sacrifice and the Spanish conquest of South America, but he seemed happy enough.
We had a brief comfort stop at a service station halfway to our destination. At that point, Craig disappeared for a bit into a back room full of truck drivers reading battered newspapers and eating bacon rolls, while Diana and I bought the sort of glossy magazines we usually ignored and drank indifferent coffee out of cardboard mugs.
‘I haven’t done this for such a long time,’ Diana said as we set off again, ‘I’m getting really excited now.’
‘Good. That’s great to hear.’
At last, Craig pulled the car smoothly up outside a large terminal building and helped us out.
The Avanti was berthed in front of us, its sleek hull tethered with cables and roped to the quayside. We stood for a few minutes admiring her.
Elegant yet relaxing. Stylish yet familiar.
Diana sighed. ‘How many times have I stood like this, looking up at a ship, knowing my husband was on the bridge flicking switches or whatever it was he did. I’d always felt so proud. Although there had always been a twinge of doubt that I had remembered the right shirt or paperback he had asked for. And what sort of mood he would be in.’
There were a few men in high-vis jackets with fork-lift trucks trundling metal carts loaded with something – probably food – into the bowels of the ship and a couple of young women in sharp navy-blue trouser suits and cute red berets, holding clipboards, directing people to the right queues.
‘Thank you so much, Craig, you’ve been absolutely marvellous,’ I said as he got our baggage out of the car and loaded it onto a wheeled trolley.
‘My pleasure,’ he said.
Diana rummaged in her handbag for a notebook and pencil.
‘I shall mention you to the organisers, Craig. And tell them how professional you have been. What an excellent driver.’
‘That would be kind of you,’ he said, ‘always nice to get good feedback.’
‘Now then, what’s your full name?’
‘Colin. Colin Stevens,’ he said.
Diana looked puzzled. ‘Not Craig then? Are you sure?’
‘Positive,’ he said with a polite smile.
‘Well, I do feel a fool, we’ve been calling him Craig for three hours,’ she muttered as we followed him trundling our luggage into the terminal building.
We passed safely though security and customs and at last we reached the end of the covered walkway.
There were a lot of other equally excited people around. The Avanti might have wanted to attract a younger clientele, but by the looks of things they hadn’t quite managed it yet.
And then Diana paused.
‘You must step onto the ship with your right foot. Casper said it was lucky.’
We both did so with great ceremony, while behind us, the press of other travellers banged into each other and muttered with annoyance.
As we entered the ship there was an archway of red, white, and blue balloons to welcome us, and an attractive couple of crew members in fancy dress; white uniforms with sky-blue neckerchiefs and jaunty matelots hats with red pompoms. They stood either side of us, smiling broadly and a tall man with an impressive-looking camera on a tripod took our welcome picture.
‘Oh God, do we have to? I’m sure I look a wreck,’ Diana said.
She’d fallen asleep in the car for the last half hour, probably worn out by a sleepless night and the excitement. She patted her hair, hoping to smooth it into some sort of order.
We went to wedge ourselves underneath the balloon arch and Diana tripped inelegantly on a length of cable, duct-taped to the floor.
She grabbed hold of the balloons and me as she fell and the whole structure wobbled alarmingly and nearly toppled over. There was the disappointing sound of balloons bursting like gunfire around the reception deck. A lot of people turned open-mouthed to look, and then most of them laughed.
‘You want to take some water with it,’ one wag shouted at her.
Diana blushed furiously and I helped her to her feet.
The helpful crew members righted the balloon arch again with many soothing and reassuring noises.
Order was restored and the photographer crinkled his brown eyes at us again.
‘?a va? Are you okay? You look fine. No problem. No damage done. Just a few of the balloons. Lovely, look up ladies. This is supposed to be fun.’
Hmm, I wasn’t so concerned that I couldn’t appreciate a rather seductive French accent when I heard one.
He then apparently lost interest as the next couple were guided forward from the log jam of people that had gathered behind us during the chaos of our arrival.
‘Well, he was rather splendid,’ Diana said, favouring him with a backwards glance as we moved on towards the reception desk.
‘If you like that sort of thing, you know, tall, tanned, bit of a silver fox going on,’ I said. ‘And French, by the sounds of it.’
‘The Voyage Première line is French operated, remember? By the time Casper retired, he was fluent. When he was home on leave he sometimes used to ask for his meals in French, and it used to make me go a bit wobbly.’
‘That “stepping on the ship with your right foot for luck” didn’t work then?’
‘Oh, shut up!’
I snorted down a laugh and after a moment, Diana joined in.
We went over to the reception desk and after a few moments were given two plastic cards in a cardboard folder.
‘We’re off!’ I said. ‘Come on. Last one there’s a cissy!’
The Avanti might have been spacious yet intimate, but the corridors on the eleventh floor stretched ahead of us for miles, with acres of blue carpet patterned with the occasional green dolphin. There was little sign that anyone else was on board. After the bustle of the queue in the security hangar, it was also strangely quiet.
‘Are we going the right way?’
Diana pointed to the carpet. ‘See the dolphins in the pattern? They always point to the front of the ship.’
‘Good tip. Where has everyone gone? Do you think we are missing something already?’ I whispered.
‘I expect people are unpacking, or there will be a gathering somewhere,’ Diana said. ‘There always used to be a sail-off party.’
After a few failed attempts to access our room when I tried the key card the wrong way round, we were in.
‘For goodness’ sake, what’s the matter with using actual keys? Why does everything have to be so complicated?’
‘You shouldn’t keep them near your phone,’ Diana said, ‘something to do with wiping the signal. Someone told me that. And then you have to go to the purser’s desk and get it re-charged.’
There were twin beds, a tiny shower with complimentary and expensive-looking toiletries, a card announcing, ‘an extensive pillow menu’, a cramped sitting area with a glamorous flower arrangement and a swirly, monogrammed card. BVPWith the compliments of the Bretagne Voyage Première cruise line. And then there were double doors that opened onto a tiny balcony where there was just enough room for two chairs and a table. Most excitingly, there was also a bottle of sparkling wine in an ice bucket.
I let out the breath I had been holding. The cabin was small but stylish, and different from what I had expected.
‘What do you think?’ I asked.
Diana took a deep breath. ‘It’s strangely familiar. This is excellent, although we might have to move round by numbers. Casper always used to have a decent-sized cabin because he was the captain, but you should see some of the crew’s quarters. They are much smaller than this. Bunk beds and no room to swing a cat, and they get inspections to make sure they are keeping them tidy. I’m glad they haven’t shoved us in one of those just because we aren’t paying. You don’t still snore, do you?’
‘I don’t think so, but I have been sleeping in the spare room recently because Eddy has a cold and he can rattle the walls when he gets going. Anyway, once he falls asleep nothing disturbs him, so it’s a very long time since I had the chance for anyone to tell me. Do you?’
‘Ditto. Probably.’
‘And what did Sam say when you told him?’
Diana hesitated for a moment. ‘We had a lovely chat on Christmas Day, and he was very pleased. I left several messages on his phone since then; he doesn’t often pick up when I ring. But then he’s so busy, they both are. You know what young people are like. I sent him a text anyway. And a link to our itinerary.’
‘You must send him some pictures and let him know how you are getting on. Now let’s open this bottle of bubbly!’
No sooner had we raised our glasses to toast our adventure than there was a knock on the door.
‘Who could that be?’ I said, my glass halted in front of my mouth. ‘We haven’t done anything for people to complain about yet. Well, I haven’t. Perhaps it’s the balloon man come to berate you.’
I went to see.
Opening the door, I found the French man from the welcoming photographs disaster standing there, still holding his camera.
I sneaked a look at Diana and saw that she was blushing very attractively. Which for some reason made me feel rather pleased.
‘Bonjour! Hello! I hope you’re settling in?’ he said. ‘My apologies. I should have introduced myself earlier. Rapha?l Duclos.’
He handed me a business card and let me squint at his identification pass so I could reassure myself he wasn’t a random psychopath. He seemed even taller when he stepped inside, and it made the cabin feel even smaller.
‘Diana,’ Diana said, holding out her hand for him to bow over, ‘and this is my sister, Jill.’
‘Enchanté. Are you okay now?’ he asked, smiling pleasantly at Diana.
‘Absolutely fine,’ she said, distinctly flushed with excitement.
‘J’regrette… I’m sorry but I just need to take a couple of shots of you arriving in your cabin and then I promise I will leave you in peace. The radio station asked if that would be okay.’
‘Of course, I signed the agreement,’ I said cheerfully, waving my glass, ‘we’ve just discovered the bubbly. You wouldn’t like a glass, would you?’
He smiled. ‘Non, merci. Not while I’m working, thanks.’
He steered us onto the balcony, and we jostled each other for space while he stood well back and took a few pictures of us looking cheerful in front of the backdrop of containers and reversing trucks on the quayside below.
‘This is a lovely ship,’ he said, ‘I’ve worked on quite a few over the years.’
‘No norovirus or flooding this time?’ I asked innocently.
He grinned back. ‘Not that I’ve heard. There are always a few early problems with any ship, but I’m sure they have been dealt with. There now, alors.’
We stood, rictus smiles on our faces while he snapped away and then he took a couple of pictures of our empty cabin before we had the chance to mess it up.
‘There, finis,’ he said at last. ‘I’ll leave you to it, ladies. And I’ll see you later.’
He favoured Diana with another rather dazzling smile, which revealed a delightful dimple in his cheek, and left.
‘He fancies yoouuu,’ I drawled, topping up our glasses.
‘Oh don’t be daft,’ she said, looking rather unsettled, ‘have you seen some of the crew members? One of those girls on reception looked like Cindy Crawford. I suppose he was rather handsome though.’
Well, that was interesting. I’d never known my sister notice or pass comment on any man other than her husband. Although, admittedly Casper had been very tall, dashing, and attractive in his uniform, so perhaps she hadn’t needed to.
We finished off the bottle in record time while we unpacked our cases which had been delivered to the door just after Rapha?l had left. And then eager to explore, we set off back down the long corridor toward the central staircase, me wondering out loud if we would ever find our way back. Diana reminded me about the dolphins.
Beneath us we could feel the ship moving out into the Solent, the landscape outside of terminal buildings and containers sliding away to be replaced by housing estates and then green fields.
We stopped and looked over the ship’s rail. I waved at a couple in luminous running gear, thinking how lucky I was not to be them, and Diana took in a deep breath of the salty air.
‘You okay?’ I asked.
She nodded. ‘I’m surprised how familiar it feels. It’s reminding me of the times when Casper and I shared adventures together. Although most of the time he had left me to my own devices. He always seemed to have some crew member to shout at or problem with something. I spent a lot of time reading, exploring the ship, talking to other passengers, and nearly always going ashore on my own when we docked. I must have been more confident then. Or perhaps I had no other choice. Go and see things, Casper used to say, tell me about them when you get back. It would have been so much more enjoyable if he had come with me. Why didn’t he?’
Good question. But then Casper hadn’t been the sort of man to engage in discussion. Eddy once remarked he was a great bloke but the type who was only happy if he had his own way, which was surprisingly insightful. And Casper seemed to make my sister happy, so why would I question it?
We eventually found our fellow cruisers out on the top deck, having a party to celebrate leaving Southampton. There were crew members everywhere. Young, attractive, and smiling, with full trays of sparkling wine and orange juice, and even some platters of canapés which, by the time they got to us looked rather battered. Our new shipmates were obviously keen to enjoy themselves to the utmost and the noise of the chatter mixed with the music which was playing over the loudspeakers was deafening.
‘I say, this is nice,’ I said, a glass of bubbly in one hand and a chicken vol-au-vent in the other. ‘Doesn’t it feel great, to be on a ship again, heading off for an adventure. And don’t those officers look marvellous. I never could resist a man in uniform. I even have a sneaky liking for the postman. He wears shorts even in winter, but then he’s young and does have rather marvellous calves.’
‘Down girl, you need to pace yourself,’ Diana said.
‘They are buttering us up with all this,’ a discontented voice said behind us, ‘and I should think so too, after the last time.’
We turned to see a fierce-looking man with a ruddy complexion and a glass of wine in each hand.
He took a slurp from one. ‘Thelma and I were on the maiden voyage. Never known such a shambles. This one’s free to compensate. Our friends Les and Carol had terrible problems with their shower, and I heard a rumour some people had raw whatsit running through their bathroom. Look Thelma, are those giant prawns over there? Yes, get me two will you.’
‘It hasn’t put you off then?’ I asked.
Our companion drained his glass, put it down and took the plate Thelma brought him.
She nodded at it in some satisfaction. ‘I got you one of those bruschettas you like too, Ken. And you were lucky to get it. It’s like a pack of wolves have been round already.’
Ken chomped away happily for a moment.
‘There’s no need for it, see? There’s plenty of food on the ship.’
‘At the moment,’ I murmured.
‘You should try the Amité buffet later,’ Thelma said encouragingly, ‘it’s always really good on this cruise line. But don’t hang about.’
‘Have you done a lot of cruises then?’ I asked.
‘Twenty-one,’ she said, looking smug, ‘this is the twenty-second. So we are old sea dogs. Any questions, just ask us.’
I didn’t like to tell her that Diana had been on twice that number at least.
‘Do you have a favourite?’
Ken and Thelma squinted thoughtfully at each other for a moment.
‘My favourite was our cruise to the Baltic on the Pirandello. Ten years ago, it hardly seems possible. Such a wonderful trip. Even though it was a bit cold. And we didn’t get an invitation to dine with the captain. Which was a shame. I’m sure he would have enjoyed us,’ Thelma said wistfully.
‘I know he would,’ Diana replied and gave me a wide-eyed look, daring me to speak.
In a remarkable coincidence, Casper had been the captain of the Pirandello. And she’d told me that he preferred to have his meals in his cabin in peace given half a chance.
‘Look there’s Les and Carol now. They’re late,’ Ken said, waving at someone. ‘They’ll have missed all the good stuff. They should know better.’
They wandered off and Diana and I went in the other direction towards a waiter who had just appeared through the glass doors with a new tray full of glowing cocktails.
We found a quiet corner out of the wind in the shelter of a lifeboat and raised our luminous drinks towards each other. Diana patted down her wild grey curls and pursed her lips towards her glass.
‘Un moment,’ someone called, ‘don’t drink that!’
It was Rapha?l again, his camera still slung around his neck, looking very attractive in dark blue trousers and a blindingly white shirt with the now familiar BVP logo embroidered in red.
Diana gulped and almost spat her drink out.
‘Why? Is it poisoned?’
He laughed. ‘Non – bien s?r – certainly not. I just thought it would make a good photo opportunity.’
He encouraged us out from our cubby hole and posed us against the ship’s rail, with the hazy outline of the Isle of Wight behind us. The sea wind whipped at my hair, probably turning it into a bird’s nest of confusion. I really did need a haircut. Actually, looking at my sister, we both did.
‘Excellent. Thank you,’ he said at last.
We dropped our smiles and watched as he inspected the digital display of his camera with a frown.
‘Okay?’ Diana asked.
He looked up and I think he winked at her.
I say!
‘Parfait. Perfect,’ he said.
What did that mean? That we looked passable, or like a pair of mad-haired women knocking back some questionable drinks.
‘I hope you are going to give us editorial approval before you publish anything?’ she said rather stiffly.
‘I promise you will approve,’ he said.
‘That’s not quite what I asked,’ she muttered and took another sip of her cocktail. ‘This tastes like a Slush Puppy mixed with gin.’
I tried it and grimaced with shock.
‘Well, my motto is never look a free drink in the straw,’ I said, and took another nip.
‘It’s…’ Diana struggled for the right word.
‘Unusual,’ I said.
She nodded.
‘Perhaps we should find some food,’ I said, ‘it’s six thirty, and I’m actually really hungry.’
‘That is the sea air,’ Rapha?l said, ‘always gives an appetite. Could I suggest the Bizet dining room? The buffet will be very crowded.’
‘So not too busy in the Bizet?’ Diana said.
He gave her another twinkling look. ‘Précisément.’
Perhaps he had heard this particular pun many times but was too polite to say so. I thought it was hilarious.
‘You’re not going to take pictures of us eating, are you?’ I said. ‘There’s nothing less attractive than a table with half-demolished meals and people chewing. Our father used to take photos of the family at every Sunday lunch and Christmas dinner, and it looked awful, as though we were in the middle of a food fight.’
‘No, of course not,’ Rapha?l said with a nod, ‘and I absolutely agree.’
We put our half-finished drinks down and went back into the ship. There were helpful deck plans on each corner, so we knew where we were. Even so it took us a couple of false starts before we found the Bizet dining room, which was an oasis of calm, white tablecloths and bowing waiters who showed us towards a delightful spot by a window, where we could watch the sea moving swiftly past below us.
The only other person in there was an older lady, sitting nearby at a table for one. I hoped she had a companion who would join her. Still, she looked quite happy, and very elegant in a silky blue dress. We nodded and smiled at each other.
‘Isn’t this exciting, I never get tired of this part. Seeing the new people come on board, watching the crew organising everybody.’ She held out a hand, ‘Evelyn Beauchamp.’
We introduced ourselves.
‘It’s a lovely ship,’ Diana said.
‘Isn’t it? Oh, here comes my starter. I’m quite ravenous. Do have a lovely evening. Perhaps we can catch up later.’
‘Madame Evelyn.’ The ma?tre d’ himself had brought her starter, which was scallops and a giant prawn on a dainty bed of rocket with shards of crispy bacon scattered over the top.
Evelyn sparkled back at him. ‘Manuel! Thank you! And how very handsome you look this evening.’
To begin with, the waiters were very attentive. Menus were flourished and bread rolls and carafes of iced water were brought, but then a great herd of hungry travellers appeared at the doors and the waiters zoomed off to sort them out, leaving us in peace.
We enjoyed our langoustine salad starter, chicken with mushroom and brandy sauce and then tiramisu, washed down with what I guessed would be the first of many bottles of white wine.
‘I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed life on board a ship,’ Diana said wistfully, ‘although it still feels odd not to have Casper on the bridge. He always said that life behind the scenes was a very different story.’
Evelyn had gone by then, collecting up a very stylish handbag from under her chair, and bidding us a smiling farewell.
I nodded. ‘I suppose so, after all, they are working. Not like us, enjoying a holiday.’
I looked out of the window at the darkening sea and wondered what the next ten days would bring us. The prospect of many meals like this one, evenings watching the shows, taking part in some classes perhaps, going on excursions. And most importantly spending some proper time with Diana instead of a snatched coffee occasionally. Perhaps finding out how she was really coping with living on her own.
Had I been a proper support to her over the last few years? I had been so busy with work before I retired, running the house, dealing with the boys. And Eddy of course. And suddenly out of the blue I found myself missing him. He wouldn’t have had chicken; he would have had steak. And then he would have looked disapprovingly at my tiramisu before snaffling half of it on the pretext of ‘helping me out’. The thought made me smile.