Chapter Two
A cruise is where you lose yourselves in the waves, only to find yourself in the journey.
In the crew section of the Emerald Dream, Simon Blake sat in his office on a lower deck and studied his programme for the day.
As cruise director, Simon had already attended the morning briefing to coordinate the ship’s officers and department heads, and any matters that team members raised had now been dealt with.
Simon was buzzing and as he worked, he hummed a popular Christmas song. Christmas was his favourite time of year and he couldn’t wait to set sail to Norway, where the snow-capped mountains and winter scenery would be the perfect backdrop for this festive voyage.
Simon enjoyed this time of year in Norway and found a fascination in the dark polar days, as though he were sailing into an unknown world.
They would cross the Arctic Circle, where the sun slipped permanently below the horizon and only at midday would the land become briefly bathed in a dim blue twilight, before darkness returned and took hold.
Running a hand over his smooth head, Simon studied the passenger list, noting frequent cruisers, higher-tier loyalty members, and VIPs.
He saw that Kenneth and Barbara Montgomery Jones had booked a Dream Suite, and housekeeping had been instructed to ensure fresh flowers, fruit and champagne were in place for their arrival.
The couple often sailed with the Diamond Star Line, the company that owned the Emerald Dream and her sister ship the Diamond Star.
Like many who chose to travel on these ships, the Montgomery Joneses were of a certain age.
Simon loved his job, and seeing the world and getting paid for it was part of the charm.
But he thrived on the thrill of creating special memories for their guests and especially enjoyed cruises with mature passengers because they appreciated the old-school glamour that the Diamond Star Line retained.
Many were seasoned travellers and often returned year after year.
The Emerald Dream was quite unlike the party boats Simon had worked on in previous jobs, where the younger passengers of the vast floating cities treated their cruise like a reality TV show.
It wasn’t that the guests of the Emerald Dream didn’t get into mischief, but the chaos was calmer, and Simon easily coped.
He reached across his desk and picked up a draft copy of the Emerald Dream Daily Times.
Compiled by Penny, the assistant cruise director, she’d left it for his approval.
Each evening, a copy was placed in every cabin, detailing events over the next twenty-four hours.
Beginning with the weather forecast, the evening entertainment, restaurant times, and dress code, Simon then studied the bar specials, live music venues, and onboard activities.
Tomorrow would be a sea day, when passengers had the day entirely onboard, and Simon noted that the ship’s fitness instructor, Kyle, had an early morning session for seniors entitled Frost & Flex.
They were due to sail into much colder weather, and Simon hoped Kyle wasn’t planning to frog-march the participants out on deck.
On a previous Arctic cruise, Kyle had kept the medical team busy with over-eager seniors risking life and limb during his Silver Fox Stretch.
Kyle’s Brrrr-lesque Bootcamp resulted in two elderly ladies spending three days in the medical facility suffering from hypothermia.
But despite adding to health and safety concerns, Simon knew that Kyle was popular and always scored high on passenger feedback forms. Some guests even commented that they’d like to take Kyle home to exercise together in the comfort of their cosy sitting rooms.
Simon leaned back and thought of Kyle’s perfectly toned abs, his muscles a work of art.
A fitness magazine model brought to life.
With his soft blonde hair, baby blue eyes, and mischievous smile, Kyle’s endless energy was a magnetic force.
If they weren’t both crew members, Simon might have tapped Grindr’s heart icon on Kyle’s profile on the dating app.
Not that he’d expect Kyle to respond. After all, who wanted to date an overweight Teletubby lookalike?
Simon might hold a position of authority on the ship, but he wasn’t on anyone’s eye candy list. Besides, work and pleasure didn’t mix, and Simon was married to his job.
Penny popped her head around the door, bringing Simon back to reality. ‘Excuse me,’ she called out. ‘Embarkation is going smoothly, and we’re almost full. It looks like sail away will be on time.’
‘Thanks, Penny, I’ll let the captain know.’
Gathering paperwork, Simon pushed back his chair.
Checking that his desk was neat and tidy, he stood and straightened his tie.
Buttoning his uniform jacket, Simon tapped his portly tummy.
‘Showtime,’ he said and fixing a wry smile, stepped out to welcome the newly arrived guests to their Arctic cruise.
Henry Halliday’s worn leather suitcase was neatly placed beside his hand luggage when he stepped into cabin 3344, situated on the promenade deck of the Emerald Dream.
Opening the wardrobe doors, he checked several drawers before studying the contents of the minibar and hospitality tray.
Peering into the bathroom, Henry stroked the thick towels and noted the toiletries, then moved into the sitting area of his terrace room and pulled open the wide glass doors that led to the deck, where two steamer chairs lay side by side.
‘This will do very nicely,’ Henry muttered.
He politely nodded to passengers strolling by, who, like Henry, were familiarising themselves with the layout of the ship. A woman, bundled into a quilted coat, pushed a wheelchair and paused to ensure a blanket was securely tucked around the occupant.
‘Hello,’ she said, ‘isn’t it a beautiful afternoon.’
‘Indeed,’ Henry replied.
Returning to his room, he unpacked and carefully tidied his personal items and cold-weather clothing.
As he placed a dinner suit on a hanger, he felt slightly guilty that he’d invested in a new formal outfit that might not see much wear.
But his previous suit had last been worn at his retirement party, almost a decade ago, and to his discomfort was somewhat tight.
These days, he’d no occasion for such a get-up and preferred more casual clothes, and his old cords, woolly jumpers, and tweed jackets served him well.
Still, the cruise itinerary stated that there was a dress code for formal nights, and Henry, known to adhere to rules and regulations, would comply.
Glancing at his watch, Henry realised that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and his tummy was making it known.
A mid-afternoon cup of tea and a biscuit would pacify the rumbles until dinner, and he decided it was time to explore.
With his cabin ship-shape and his precious camera and valuables secured in the safe, Henry straightened the collar of his plaid shirt.
Patting the pockets of a tailored tweed waistcoat, he felt for his glasses and cabin card, then reached for his well-worn Barbour and set off.
In the corridor, he almost crashed headlong into a housekeeping trolley. He apologised profusely to the uniformed lady who peered out from a tower of sheets.
‘Terribly sorry I didn’t see you there,’ Henry said.
‘Is no problem. My name is Jennifer. I look after you,’ she replied. ‘Anything you want, you tell me, I take care of cabin, keep it good for you.’
Jennifer’s smile was welcoming, and her voice carried a soft lilt. Henry noted her name badge, which had a Philippines flag printed alongside it.
‘Well, I’m much obliged. Thank you, Jennifer, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.’ Henry stumbled backwards. Women often made him clumsy, and he hastened to move away.
Emerging from the corridor, Henry paused.
He’d entered the lower level of the central atrium, where a grand staircase circled the space around a vast clock.
It reminded Henry of Big Ben, and as he walked around to study the ship’s landmark, he saw several ornate clock faces displaying time zones in different countries.
The magnificent structure, decorated with Christmas swags of red and gold, was topped with an enamelled globe wrapped in a tartan bow.
Henry checked his floor plan then began to ascend the thickly carpeted, sweeping staircase that connected different levels of the ship.
By the guest services desk, a Christmas tree sparkled with silver lights, which were as bright as the smiles of the staff who greeted him.
A spacious bar and lounge area was busy, and guests gathered around low tables, already enjoying cocktails of the day.
Acoustic music played, and picture windows framed the view of the port outside.
In the Botanical Room, the decoration reflected nature, and Henry thought the serene setting would be an ideal place to relax.
Other rooms had interesting names, and the Planet Room and Oriental Tea Room both looked inviting, but Henry was led by a delicious aroma of coffee coming from a serving counter in the Bookmark Café, surrounded by bookshelves.
‘Perfect,’ Henry said, and found an armchair beside large windows, where he placed his Barbour jacket as a steward came to take his order.
‘I’d like a cappuccino and a shortbread biscuit if you have one,’ Henry said.
‘Freshly baked today.’ The steward smiled and made a note of Henry’s cabin number.
As he sat back, Henry began to unwind. The stress of the journey was behind him now, and the closure of the Tyne Tunnel that had delayed his progress and caused an anxious hour’s diversion was soon forgotten.
His trusty Morris Traveller was safely parked until his return, and all Henry needed to do was look forward to the holiday.
Henry Halliday had never been on a cruise.
It hadn’t appealed to the history teacher who’d devoted decades to shaping young minds.
Henry’s hobbies lay in photography, wildlife, and stargazing, and the Scottish Highlands were his favourite destination.
Wonderful species of red deer, golden eagles, otters, and wildcats could be found there and, in the Cairngorms National Park, he’d witnessed incredible views of the night sky, including on one occasion, the dense region of stars located in the Milky Way.
But Henry had never seen the Northern Lights.
In the summer, at his camera club meeting, a member had talked about this marvel, showing photographs and informing colleagues that the spectacle was best seen in Norway, especially in Troms?, which was described as the gateway to the Arctic.
Here, the sun didn’t rise in December and the polar night offered perfect conditions.
When Henry learned that Bill Zhang, an astrophotography expert much talked about by club members, would be on board the Emerald Dream as a guest speaker for the Arctic cruise, he took advantage of an offer in his club magazine and booked his place.
The coffee arrived and Henry sipped. It was delicious, and the shortbread was perfect too.
Fussy about his coffee and a dab hand in the kitchen, Henry enjoyed taking a freshly baked batch of biscuits or cakes to his club meetings, where the members devoured the treats.
Miss Audrey Aston, Henry’s elderly neighbour, also enjoyed his culinary efforts during their weekly afternoon tea together at home in the North Yorkshire town of Skipton.
Over the years, Audrey had become both a close friend and trusted neighbour and Henry enjoyed the old lady’s feisty nature and her love of life almost as much as she loved his shortbread and spicy carrot cake.
As he eased into the deep leather armchair, Henry smoothed a silver-streaked strand that had fallen onto his forehead.
Despite his years, he was proud of his full head of hair, unlike the many comb-overs of his contemporaries.
With lots of walking and a careful diet, Henry kept himself fit, and his eyes, a deep shade of blue, still held a twinkle.
He didn’t look his age and felt at least a decade younger than his seventy years.
Audrey, also a retired schoolteacher who’d taught art, told him he was still young enough to find a good woman and settle down, but Henry flinched at the thought.
It wasn’t that he didn’t like women, quite the opposite in fact.
Over the years, Henry had been in several relationships, and two had been serious, but he had been devoted to his intellectual life and reluctant to commit.
He’d never felt a conviction strong enough to marry, and with no signs of wedding bells ringing, his partners became impatient and eventually drifted away, and Henry decided he was better off alone.
As Henry finished his coffee, he thought of Audrey.
She lived in a detached house alongside his own and took care of his plants in his absence.
The weathered red brick Edwardian properties with curving bay windows had been built to last and were surprisingly spacious, with a deep cellar, two living levels, and several attic rooms. Henry loved his home almost as much as he’d enjoyed his job teaching at the grammar school in Skipton and had been bereft when his retirement came around.
It was Audrey who encouraged Henry to take up new hobbies, and she took an interest in his photography and star gazing.
‘You must make the best of the cruise,’ Audrey had been adamant. ‘You never know what might happen or who you might meet,’ she insisted, flicking crumbs from her lace-trimmed blouse with fingers as gnarled as driftwood. ‘Go and have an adventure, Henry Halliday, before it’s too late!’
Now, Henry reached for his Barbour and rose from his chair to head out on deck to watch the ship sail away from the port. But his neighbour’s words lingered.
An adventure? He wasn’t so sure.
With a sharp tug, he opened a door and stepped outside.
As the ship’s horn bellowed, Henry shrugged into his coat, bracing against the crisp air.
He’d planned a holiday with sightings of the Northern Lights, perhaps some wildlife photography, and excellent meals.
After all, he thought, as he joined other passengers and the Emerald Dream moved slowly away from Tyneside, these simple pleasures were predictable and safe.
And for a retired schoolteacher like Henry, that was adventure enough.