Chapter Four
Beyond the fjords lies a world untouched, where every step is an Arctic adventure.
On the first full day of his cruise, Henry woke early. To his surprise, he’d slept well. As he pulled himself into a sitting position, Henry patted the comfortable covers around him and reached for his glasses, then, taking his copy of the Daily Times, he began to read.
Today would be spent at sea as the Emerald Dream travelled north to Norway. Henry studied the day’s itinerary, beginning with the weather forecast, which stated that the sea was moderate, the skies partly cloudy, and the wind a northerly gale force six to seven.
‘It might get choppy, but nothing to worry about,’ Henry said and stared out at the view, where the murky water of the North Sea was a white-capped, steel-grey expanse.
Henry was glad that he’d had an early night, opting not to go to the show. Instead, after a tiring day, he’d retired to his room and settled down to spend his first night onboard.
As Henry studied the rhythmic swells, a man, speed-walking, appeared beyond the one-way mirrored sliding glass doors that opened onto the promenade deck. Wearing a T-shirt, walking boots, and shorts, the man paused to catch his breath, and Henry saw that he carried weights in each hand.
‘Ah, someone who enjoys the cold, a Jack Frost,’ Henry named the vision, ‘and he’s a fitness fanatic …
’ He wondered at the man’s ability to brave the weather wearing only a flimsy shirt.
It was bitingly cold on deck and Henry snuggled further into his warm duvet, enjoying the luxury of watching the world outside without being seen himself.
Audrey had been insistent that Henry upgrade his cabin. In her day, she’d been a frequent cruiser. With long school holidays, Audrey spent many years travelling the world on various ships, visiting far-flung destinations such as Patagonia and Kyoto and the delights of Europe closer to home.
‘Don’t be cooped up in a cubby hole,’ she’d implored as she studied Henry’s cruise brochure. ‘You don’t need a grand suite or a private balcony, but the terrace cabins are generally more spacious with the luxury of stepping out onto the deck whenever the fancy takes you.’
Henry agreed that Audrey’s advice had been sound, and he was enjoying his terrace cabin. Returning to the Daily Times, Henry planned his day.
An interdenominational church service would soon take place, followed by a chef’s demonstration in the auditorium.
Henry didn’t feel the need for a blessing, but as chocolate was Henry’s guilty pleasure, a chef’s take on chocolate ganache cake might be interesting.
He saw that a presentation of forthcoming excursions would be held mid-morning in the Triton Lounge, followed by a Beginner’s Guide to the Night Sky.
Further reading detailed various classes, including exercise with the ship’s fitness instructor, bowling, bridge, and a book club.
There was also indoor curling and something called Killer Darts.
Henry considered the age of the passengers he’d so far encountered and decided that a pensioner with a dart in their hand was something to avoid at all costs.
But first, he would enjoy a good breakfast.
Henry swung his legs out of bed and went to the bathroom, where he stood before the mirror to shave. Remembering the previous evening and the guests he’d met at dinner, Henry considered the Scotts a nice enough couple, but he had misgivings about the Montgomery Joneses.
Audrey’s pre-cruise warning rang clear. ‘Never judge a book by its cover!’ she’d told him and said that a cruise ship held a sea-going sample of humanity and there would be people he would like and those he might not.
Henry decided not to judge the Montgomery Joneses but to chat more with them at dinner.
In the same conversation, Audrey had also reminded him that he was still young enough to find a good woman and settle down.
Rinsing his razor under the tap, Henry wondered why Audrey was so intent on Henry finding a partner.
Surely, he was too old. After all, when Audrey was in her mid-sixties, she’d ‘found a good woman’, but the lady in question, a headmistress from a neighbouring school, had run off with a large share of Audrey’s savings to settle down with a children’s nanny in Nuneaton.
As Henry dressed, he thought of his friend.
The eighty-three-year-old, with depleted savings, could no longer afford her love of travel, but she expressed no regrets about her failed relationship, explaining that the ‘good woman’ she’d known had been extremely good in bed.
‘Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it, Henry Halliday,’ Audrey said.
‘Same-sex relationships are sensational!’
Henry chuckled. He didn’t doubt his friend but considered himself too long in the tooth to have any experimental dalliances.
Opening his wardrobe, Henry chose a navy sweater that Audrey had gifted for his Christmas cruise. The thick cable-stitch had an ambitious pattern of frolicking red reindeers knitted into it, amongst snowflakes and fir trees.
‘Perfect for Christmas in Norway, and toasty and warm. I ordered it on Etsy, it’s hand-made,’ Audrey commented, nodding with pleasure after insisting that Henry model his gift.
Henry was grateful that Audrey hadn’t knitted the gift herself and thought of the erratically stitched, voluminous cardigan that she regularly wore.
Knitting and Audrey were like oil and water and not a good match.
He smoothed the sweater over his tummy and glanced in a mirror, hoping that it didn’t cling to his midsection.
As Henry opened a drawer to find a scarf, he thought about Joy, the other guest at dinner who was also a solo traveller.
She’d seemed nervous, and he wondered if, like himself, Joy had thought twice about joining a shared table.
As it turned out, the dinner conversation had gone well, and Joy seemed to relax by the time desserts were served, perhaps due to the prosecco that Leticia generously shared.
But Henry thought Joy had an air of sadness, and he wondered if she’d lost someone close.
She might be a widow, and he’d noted a ring on her wedding finger, but whatever Joy’s circumstances, he hoped she enjoyed the cruise.
It took courage to travel alone at a certain age.
Confidence can diminish as one gets older.
He remembered her smile across the table when he’d winked, and a flush crept over his face.
What on earth had made him do that? He wasn’t in the habit of winking at women and Joy probably thought that Henry had a nervous tic.
Ready for the day, Henry closed his cabin door and stepped into the corridor, where Jennifer, neat in her uniform with a starched white apron, was making her way towards him.
‘Good morning,’ he greeted the housekeeper cheerily.
‘Good sleep?’ Jennifer asked.
Jennifer’s jet-black hair was pulled sharply into a ponytail, and her smile was kind. Henry studied Jennifer’s heart-shaped face and golden complexion and thought how attractive she was.
‘Excellent, thank you,’ he replied, returning her smile.
‘I make up room good.’
‘You did, and I’m very grateful. The chocolate was delicious.’ Henry was touched by the individual chocolate, placed on his pillow when she’d turned down his bed.
‘You single. You want more blankets? Keep you warm?’
‘No, no I’m just fine, but thank you.’
‘Nice sweater,’ Jennifer said and gazed at the reindeers racing across Henry’s chest. ‘You have good day.’ Jennifer produced a duster and began to polish the handrail. ‘I see you later,’ she added.
Henry decided on breakfast in the buffet restaurant, opting for a casual start to the day and as he ascended the stairs, his spirits lifted.
He was so looking forward to the voyage ahead which promised so much, not only the excursions but also the magic of the Arctic.
The little town of Molde would be the first stop, where daylight was already fleeting, then further north into the deepening darkness of the polar night.
The chances of witnessing the aurora borealis were high, and Henry could hardly contain his anticipation as he steadied himself against the sudden sea swell beneath the ship, pausing to grab hold of the balustrade.
A woman in a velour tracksuit with bright pink hair passed him, heading down the stairs. ‘Brace yourself,’ she called out, ‘wind’s up, and later we’re in for a rollercoaster ride!’
But Henry shook his head as he continued upward. ‘This is no more than a slight swell,’ he muttered. Paying no heed to the forecast in the Daily Times, Henry made his way through the ship and went in search of his first breakfast on the Emerald Dream.
In her Ocean View cabin, 2617, on Coral Deck Two, Joy had woken as dawn broke, and despite the comfort of her cabin, she’d been unable to get back to sleep.
Wrapping her dressing gown tightly, she opened the blind, allowing light to flood in through the picture window.
The morning outside looked grey, and the dark North Sea heaved under a brooding sky.
Through habit, when Tom booked the cruise, he’d opted for a mid-range cabin, and though not as luxurious as those on upper decks, Joy welcomed its location.
The middle of the ship would offer a smoother sail should the seas become rough.
Not that she suffered from sea sickness, quite the opposite in fact.
She found the waves soothing and whenever previous cruises had met with turbulent weather, she’d enjoyed a bumpy ride.
Unlike Tom, who, in the Bay of Biscay, had taken to his bed where his complexion turned a worrying shade of grey, and he didn’t emerge until they reached calmer waters.
Joy shook her head to disperse the memory.