Chapter Six
No journey is as great as one on the open sea.
Henry always enjoyed his first meal of the day and after a breakfast of fresh fruit, followed by poached eggs with bacon, he made his way through the ship taking note of the activities taking place.
Sea days were busy onboard and there was a buzz as passengers gathered for events that included bridge, art and dance lessons.
Passing the Lido Deck he saw passengers by the pool in swimming gear, many spreadeagled on sunbeds as a fitness instructor in brief shorts and wearing a cape, collected flotation aids from around the deck before disappearing through a door at the side of the bar.
It must have been a very active class, Henry thought as he noted a woman with bright orange hair, shrouded in a hooded dry-robe, already asleep on an upright chair.
In the atrium, Henry paused to watch a string quartet set up for their mid-morning performance of classical music.
He wandered on until he came to the busy Bookmark Café and chose a book from the photography section.
He looked forward to reading it as soon as he found a peaceful spot.
Remembering the quiet of the Botanical Room, Henry made his way there and soon found a comfortable seat.
The walls of the wide windowed room were decorated with leafy fronds and climbing vines and Henry admired several tall palms beside a display of jasmine. Wildlife Photography: From Snapshots to Great Shots lay on Henry’s knee and, turning the pages, he began to read.
Nearby and gathered around a long table, the book club meeting was in progress and as their discussion began, Henry was unable to concentrate.
He recalled Simon’s earlier announcement that the chosen title for the meeting was The Sinking of the Titanic.
Now, a discussion between two members was becoming heated and Henry looked up.
‘You’ve got it all wrong,’ a woman said, ‘there were protocols to follow. You can’t just chuck folk into lifeboats willy-nilly. There had to be an order for who went first.’
Henry saw that the speaker, a rake-thin woman of considerable height, appeared to be the book club’s self-appointed leader.
‘It was a class issue, Judy,’ a man replied, folding his arms tightly across his chest. ‘They let the wealthy sail off while the rest of the passengers in steerage were locked down and left to freeze and drown. I wouldn’t be surprised if you would be one to push past everyone in an emergency,’ he added.
‘I think that comment is out of order.’ The woman, Judy, glared and shifted in her seat.
‘Has anyone watched the movie?’ The man turned to the others. ‘It was a cracking film. Kate Winslet’s corset was so tight I needed oxygen to watch.’
A lady wearing a lavender shawl that matched her hair spoke out. ‘I watched the film and cried when DiCaprio went under,’ she sighed, ‘he was so handsome.’
‘I cry when my tea goes cold,’ Judy snapped, tossing her head back and shaking her thick grey curls, ‘but given the difference of opinion, shall we choose an alternative novel?’
Henry returned to his book, but opinions flared loudly, and unable to concentrate, he decided to find an alternative place to sit.
In the Ocean Bar, two smiling ladies, their silver hair neatly styled and wearing identical cardigans and slacks, gave a friendly wave from a far corner.
Returning the greeting, Henry thought they must be sisters, their resemblance so alike, but otherwise, he saw that the room was deserted.
Deciding to stay, he barely noticed the ship’s sway as he looked out of the panoramic windows where a container ship appeared on the horizon, its vast grey shape a contrast against the watery blue sky.
Henry ordered coffee and shortbread, and turning back to his book, began to enjoy the peace.
The coffee was rich, and the shortbread buttery.
Soon, he was happily lost in images of wild animals and birds photographed in their natural habitats.
His fingers paused on the glossy pages and his mind marvelled at the clarity.
Henry wished he could replicate the composition and the photographer’s keen eye.
Despite his passion, he knew that his own pictures would never be this good.
Suddenly, the door flew open, and there was a flurry of florals and pearls. ‘This way!’ a woman called out, and Henry recognised Judy from the book club.
The ladies of the Women’s Institute had arrived, and the calm atmosphere Henry had sought was drowned by the gaggling group as they filled the room. The sisters in the corner joined in as the meeting began.
Surrounded by craft bags, knitting, and notebooks, Henry slumped in his chair, wishing he could disappear. No wonder the room had been empty! Fellow travellers, beware … the Women’s Institute gets everywhere!
Reaching out to finish his coffee, Henry closed his book and prepared to slip away. But first, he needed to sign his bill. He scanned the room anxiously. Unfortunately, the steward was now swamped with orders, and Henry couldn’t escape.
With introductions complete, the ladies launched into their latest national campaign on environmental sustainability.
Carbon emissions and plastic waste were hot topics, and one woman declared clingfilm to be the cause of moral decay, while another insisted sandwich wrappers should be banned nationwide.
‘My husband should be banned,’ sighed the lady in the lavender shawl. ‘His emissions are one of the biggest causes of climate change.’ She took a sip of sweet sherry while heads nodded in sympathy.
The door crept open again, and Henry saw Joy nervously scan the busy room. Spotting Henry, who felt like a man cornered by lions, Joy looked as though she was about to flee, then changed her mind and made her way towards him.
‘How’s it going?’ she whispered and crouched down beside him.
‘I feel trapped and am regretting wearing synthetic fibre socks,’ Henry muttered.
‘Your sweater is pure wool, so I wouldn’t be too worried.’
‘It’s a gift from my friend Audrey,’ Henry said, ‘and I’m not sure she’d approve of this debate.’ He knew that old-school Audrey wouldn’t know an eco-friendly alternative if it struck her in the face.
‘So, you’re planning an escape?’
‘I would if I could, but I’ve got to sign the bill, and the steward is neck-deep in orders.’
‘Here’s a trade,’ Joy, said, still crouching, ‘give up your seat, and I’ll sort the bill out.’
‘I couldn’t possibly let you …’ Henry began.
But Judy had seen Henry and called out: ‘I say, the gentleman in the middle, this is a women’s meeting so either pipe down or leave the room.’
‘So much for equality,’ Henry muttered. ‘See you on the other side,’ he whispered to Joy, and grabbing his book, rose, and made his exit.
Reaching the atrium, Henry puffed out a breath, checked his watch, and decided that to celebrate his escape, a drink was in order. Despite the early hour, he made his way to the bar.
‘Had a good morning?’ Leticia asked Joy when they met up that afternoon for the Christmas quiz. Jim, wearing a snowman jumper, sat alongside in his chair, polishing his glasses. The horns on Leticia’s reindeer headband wobbled as she patted a seat.
As Joy sat down, she stared at the Christmas puddings that decorated Leticia’s woolly chest. Her emerald-green velvet skirt clung to her hips and was embroidered with sequins.
Joy pushed up the cuffs of her beige sweater, removed her scarf, and thought how dull she must once again appear next to Leticia’s festive vision.
‘What have you been up to?’ Leticia asked.
Joy explained that tensions had run high at the Women’s Institute meetup when a member from Melton Mowbray suggested that everyone should eat lentils and grow their own beans to eliminate greenhouse gases.
‘How was that received?’ Leticia asked.
‘She was told by her friend that as she drove a diesel vehicle, she was in no position to voice an opinion on such matters, and should consider going electric,’ Joy replied and remembered that knitting needles had poised mid-knit before Judy, fearing an escalation of tempers, suggested that in the spirit of the organisation, a few verses of ‘Jerusalem’ were in order.
‘Things calmed down following the anthem,’ Joy said, ‘and after a round of sherry, blankets for the Red Cross and crocheted cot covers for African babies were discussed. Thankfully, the meeting ended happily.’
‘I’ve never been a Women’s Institute member, but it sounds like a lot of fun,’ Leticia replied.
‘It’s a few years since I went to meetings, but I remember that I enjoyed them and it could get lively, but tea and cake generally smoothed things out.’
Leticia’s brow arched. ‘Why did you stop going to meetings?’
Joy hesitated, her gaze flicking away. ‘Things came up at home,’ she said dismissively, and brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
Leticia told Joy they’d enjoyed a delicious roast lunch in the restaurant. ‘Our servers, Jhamille and Ryan asked where you were,’ Leticia said. ‘They hope we’ll all be back together for dinner.’
‘I had a snack in the buffet.’
Leticia gave her a knowing smile. ‘Things will get better as you get to know everyone,’ she said.
Once again, Joy found herself struck by Leticia’s uncanny intuition.
‘How’s your quizzing?’ Jim chipped in. With his glasses perched on his nose, he shifted in his chair to reach for the sheet of paper and an accompanying pencil.
‘I’m probably not going to contribute much, but I’ll try,’ Joy said.
She thought of the Sudoku games she played to fill the empty hours at home. The puzzle didn’t require anything more taxing than logic. Crosswords she’d left to Tom, who always retreated behind a closed door in his study to complete the puzzle in his daily newspaper.
Sitting opposite Jim, Joy saw that his posture was slightly distorted, and she wondered if he was uncomfortable as she watched Leticia reach for a magazine to allow him a firm surface to rest his paper.