Chapter Ten
Norwegian nights taste better at sea.
While many passengers enjoyed excursions offshore, Simon’s day had been busy onboard as he went about his duties, ensuring the smooth running of the ship.
Having checked that there were activities and entertainment for those remaining on board, Simon was confident that guests would be well catered for, with a movie screening, trivia games, a cookery demonstration and plentiful offers of treatments in the Atlantis Spa.
He’d also attended the heads of department meeting, where a complaint made earlier by the Montgomery Joneses was raised.
Simon had been surprised to hear that their pre-booked excursion that day, a chartered boat for a private cruise of the fjords, had been cancelled.
On investigation, guest services had informed Simon that they had no choice but to cancel as the tour operator had learned of Barbara’s behaviour on a previous cruise, during a whale-watching charter in Reykjavik, and refused to take her on the trip.
Run by the same company, she’d been blocked, and Simon shuddered to think what their VIP guest had got up to.
The alternative suggestion had met with an angry scene as Kenneth and Barbara argued with the staff at the desk.
Wishing to avoid further unpleasantness, Simon had repeated the offer of the Atlantic Ocean Road trip with the compliments of the cruise line, which seemed to pacify the pair.
Earlier that day, Simon had spent time at the poolside bar, with the excuse that he was checking out arrangements for the Martini Experience to be held later. Ordering a coffee, he made himself comfortable.
An exercise class was taking place, and Simon knew that Kyle’s Zumba in the zone – Shake it while you sit! was popular. Several guests were seated in a circle, on upright chairs, while Kyle, wearing a Lycra leotard and Converse trainers, pivoted in the middle.
‘Come on luvvies, this is low impact,’ Kyle sang, ‘let’s all shoulder roll and shimmy!’
Simon studied Kyle’s shoulder roll and was impressed as bronzed muscles rippled his upper arms. When the young man began to shimmy, Simon was mesmerised.
Kyle’s sequinned sweatband glinted in the sunshine beaming through the enclosed roof, and now, his jazz hands were encouraging the guests to thrust forward in a pelvic thrust.
‘Careful, Nora, if you thrust too far, you’ll end up in the pool again,’ Kyle called out.
Simon frowned. He was aware that unless Kyle changed the routine swiftly, Nora would likely end up in the medical facility with a dislocated hip. Her orange hair was plastered to her head, and her furrowed face was wet with perspiration.
‘Now, we’re all going to do a seated grapevine!’ Kyle said, his arm outstretched as he sang along to ‘Let’s Do the Time Warp Again’, then stepped to the right and crossed his left foot behind in a repeated action.
Chairs began to squeak as Sid, a solo traveller from Staines, added a twist to his grapevine, knocking into Nora and sending her water bottle flying.
‘Whoops!’ Kyle said as he deftly caught it. ‘Keep hydrated, mustn’t lose your water, Nora!’
‘If it were only water, I wouldn’t be here,’ Nora laughed.
Retrieving the bottle, she took a slug and offered it to Sid, who almost choked as the fiery burn of the forty per cent proof gin hit the back of his throat, causing him to gasp and grip his chest.
‘Everything all right, Nora?’ Kyle called out as Sid turned puce and Nora banged her fist on his back.
‘Tiptop,’ she trilled as her new friend recovered. With a sudden gleam in his eye, Sid took her hand, and together, they stood and grape-vined around the deck.
Simon knew he should ask housekeeping to check Nora’s room for contraband.
Personal alcohol supplies were only allowed on board if purchased from the ship.
But Nora, a regular Emerald Dream cruiser, had a habit of stashing forbidden bottles in cleverly disguised bags or tucked under layers of her clothing.
Simon let it pass. If a little illicit booze made Nora happy, he wouldn’t stand in her way.
Kyle was ending the class, and with sharp bursts of his whistle, he encouraged everyone to twist their torsos to the right and then to the left.
‘Lift those arms, swivel those hips, and give me one last shimmy,’ the instructor called out, and moonwalked towards the bar, where complimentary cocktails awaited the participants.
Simon stared as Nora, leading the charge, thundered towards him. Taking a Frostbite Fizz, she handed one to Sid.
‘Hello Nora, are you enjoying yourself?’ Simon asked.
‘I enjoy all of Kyle’s classes,’ Nora replied, ‘that young man makes my holiday, and I always feel refreshed after a session with him.’ She raised her glass.
As he watched Nora take Sid’s arm and move to the comfort of the sofa, Simon thought that Nora, gripping her empty ‘water’ bottle, was not only refreshed but probably three sheets to the wind after her exercise sessions.
Kyle, meanwhile, was tugging a hoodie over his leotard, and when he saw Simon, he hurried to catch him. ‘Simon!’ Kyle called out. ‘It’s good to see you, what did you think of my class?’
Simon could feel the heat rising in his face, betraying him even as he forced a cool smile.
‘Oh, hello, Kyle. I thought it was great,’ Simon said, and fiddling with his tie, he coughed nervously.
The fitness instructor’s face was damp, and his hoodie unzipped, and Simon couldn’t stop his eyes from straying to Kyle’s perfect pecs, then back to his baby blue eyes. He radiated post-workout energy.
‘I’m so pleased that you came to watch,’ Kyle said with an impish grin. ‘It’s important to me that I get things right.’
Simon sucked in his stomach and re-fastened the buttons on his jacket.
Shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other, he shoved his hands deep in his pockets.
‘Y … you were great,’ he stammered, trying to sound casual and failing.
‘I can see that everyone enjoys your classes. Keep up the good work.’
Keep up the good work … Simon was mortified!
He sounded like a headmaster and felt like a nerd.
Keen to high-five or give Kyle’s arm an encouraging pat, the moment had passed, and now he felt awkward.
Pull yourself together! Simon silently scolded himself, his heart pounding, knowing that Kyle, the confident, handsome fitness instructor, would never look at Simon the Teletubby, in anything but a professional way.
But as Simon left the poolside bar, he was unaware that Kyle stood frozen, watching the cruise director with a gaze full of unspoken words. With his stumbles and stammer, Simon hadn’t a clue that Kyle’s smile lingered long after he turned away.
Now, as the evening began, Simon exchanged pleasantries with the ma?tre d’ of the Terrace restaurant, then negotiated through the softly lit tables with the ease of a man who’d walked this route many times before.
Pausing to greet guests by name and ask about their day, his megawatt smile was in place as he crouched slightly and laughed at their jokes.
Desserts were being served by the time he got to the Montgomery Joneses’ table.
‘Good evening, everyone,’ Simon spoke warmly, ‘and how have we all enjoyed our day?’
‘God-awful bus trip,’ Kenneth growled as he spooned lemon posset into his mouth. ‘We won’t be repeating that again, will we, Babs?’
Through a mouthful of chocolate mousse, Barbara said that the excursion was a waste of time. Simon took a step back. He was beginning to regret his visit to table twenty-eight.
Barbara pushed her dessert away, and as she filled her glass with wine, a few drops splashed onto the white cloth, creating a dark red stain.
‘Don’t know what all the fuss was about on that road trip.
We couldn’t see a thing,’ she slurred, ‘far too dark and foggy, and the church was as cold as the grave. We couldn’t stay in there and returned to the coach.
Someone should have turned on the heating. ’
Simon, who’d visited Kvernes Stave Church on a previous cruise, thought Barbara had rather missed the magnificence of the seventeenth-century building, which was rich in cultural heritage.
But Leticia Scott sat forward. ‘Such a shame that the Molde Mist ruined your private excursion, causing you to cancel at the last minute,’ she said.
Simon was puzzled. He’d never heard of a Molde Mist, but he caught the glint in Leticia’s eye and before he could ask, Leticia’s husband, Jim, began to nod. ‘Terrible thing, the Molde Mist, rolls right in when you least expect it.’
Henry Halliday coughed politely into his beer glass.
‘Still, the stress of cancelling your special trip must have been exhausting,’ Joy Bradley joined in. ‘No wonder you both fell asleep on the coach.’
Simon noticed Joy looked sympathetically towards Kenneth and Barbara.
Kenneth’s head jerked up, his hair shifting noticeably and before the guest had time to respond, Simon wished everyone well and turned away.
To his relief, he didn’t need to manage the Montgomery Joneses. The diners sharing their table had the couple all figured out.
The Triton Lounge was steadily filling as the guests from table twenty-eight searched for somewhere to sit. Kenneth and Barbara, as though competing in musical chairs, moved with speed and hurried ahead to secure a front-row spot.
‘There’s spaces over there,’ Leticia said, and pointed out a raised seating area, and together with Jim, Henry, and Joy, she made her way. Once they were settled, a steward took their order for drinks.
Seated between Leticia and Henry, Joy felt a little awkward. It felt too close to be beside Henry, a man she hardly knew. But as the house lights dimmed and a hush fell over the room, she joined in with the ripple of applause as the evening’s entertainment began.
A spotlight shone on the stage, and the curtains drew back to reveal the Emerald Dream’s resident band, the Oceanaires, who started their act with an instrumental version of ‘Moondance’.
A suave man with jet-black hair appeared. He wore a white dinner jacket and introduced himself. ‘Welcome to the Miles Donavan show,’ he said, ‘and we have a fabulous line-up for you tonight!’
As Miles eased into his routine with a medley of popular hits, interspersed with jokes, the Emerald Dream dancers glided onto the stage, their sequins catching the lights as they moved in perfect sync.
Joy thought of her last cruise with Tom, where Dicky Delaney, the comedian, had entertained them throughout with a hilarious repertoire and endless plugs for his autobiography, a copy of which still lay beside Tom’s side of their bed.
Miles Donavan had a long way to go to keep up with Dicky’s limitless jokes, but Joy was enjoying the show.
She glanced at Henry and, to her surprise, noticed his eyes were closed and head tilted to one side.
Cruise ship days could take their toll, especially as the years passed.
Miles’s tempo increased at the end of his act, and dancers wore sarong-style skirts and Hawaiian shirts with tropical flowers in their hair.
‘You must get to know Soho Joe!’ Miles sang and swayed his hips, ‘He runs an Espresso, called the House of Bamboo!’
A woman with orange hair leaped to her feet in the central aisle. Nora began to dance with her thumbs inserted in the loops of her belt and encouraged others to join in too. The audience started to sing along with Miles.
I’m-a telling you
When you’re blue
Well, there’s a lot to do
In the House of Bamboo!
Henry’s head jerked up, and he opened his eyes. ‘Good Lord! What’s happening …’ he said as Nora sashayed towards him, grabbed his hands, and pulled Henry to his feet.
‘You’re dancing!’ Nora laughed, tugging him up with surprising energy for a woman wearing orthopaedic sandals.
Henry couldn’t beat a retreat and reluctantly looped his thumbs in his belt and attempted to line-dance as Nora’s chosen guests wove their way through the aisle.
As the final chorus swelled, Miles, in the middle of the stage, executed a high kick and fell back into the waiting arms of the dancers who raised him triumphantly to their shoulders.
‘In the House of Bamboo!’ they sang, and the room erupted.
Clapping their hands and smiling, Nora and her gyrating guests returned to their seats.
Henry quickly sat down as the dancers disappeared, and the curtains closed on the stage. Leticia and Jim leaned forward to congratulate him on his performance.
Joy thought that Henry was a good sport and praised him too.
Then, she picked up her bag, thanked everyone for their company, and said it was her bedtime.
But as she left the Triton Lounge, Joy couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to Henry, the history teacher, and what might his friend Audrey make of his line-dancing antics?