Chapter Twenty-Two
Aboard the Emerald Dream, the waves whisper, the chandeliers glisten, and every toast starts a new story.
Henry sat on his bed and stared at the telephone. For the tenth time in as many minutes, he pressed the button to replay the message left earlier by guest services. Joy Bradley had invited him to be her plus one at Lady Eleanor’s soirée, and he was to meet her in the Ocean Bar at six-thirty.
When he’d booked the Arctic cruise for Christmas, he’d imagined an enjoyable festive escape, in contrast to Christmas in Skipton, where Henry attended the camera club’s Christmas Eve buffet, which was a dutiful and staid affair.
He always spent Christmas Day with Audrey and enjoyed preparing the meal, following it with his finest plum pudding before settling down to the King’s Speech, a tin of Quality Street and a nap, to the sound of Audrey’s knitting needles clicking away.
The cruise was quite a contrast, and so far, the entertainment had been lively, the food deliciously prepared by someone else, and the conversations with lovely folk like Leticia and Jim a delightful change.
But he’d never anticipated being invited to an elegant party by a woman like Joy.
Joy had slipped into his world like a soft light breaking through his grey skies.
Now, here he was, dressed formally and brushing lint from his jacket, wondering if this trip might turn into something far more interesting than talks about Norwegian farming and puffin watching.
Henry wondered what Audrey would make of it but knew that she’d be delighted and would encourage her neighbour.
Go and have an adventure, Henry Halliday, before it’s too late!
Henry felt like it was the first day of a new school term.
His fingers fidgeted and he straightened his cufflinks for the umpteenth time then smoothed his hair.
He wasn’t used to this kind of anticipation and swallowed hard, feeling like a teenager in the first flush of a crush.
For all his later-life careful planning, this was new territory, and he didn’t want to mess things up.
Joy was a lovely woman, and it was clear that she was still navigating the stages of grief.
What kind of grief he wasn’t quite sure.
She rarely spoke of her late husband. Perhaps, like Henry, she was also mourning the loss of purpose that retirement brought, or maybe the ache of facing life on her own.
Last night, they’d shared something significant as they listened to Matti’s song.
But when they returned to the ship, she’d hurried away so quickly that Henry thought he’d done something wrong.
But here he was, with the minutes slipping by, and Joy would be waiting to meet him. Shaking away his confusion, Henry stood. He patted his pockets and took one last look at his reflection.
‘You’ll do,’ he muttered and, dimming the lights in his cabin, moved to open the door.
‘Good evening, Mr Henry!’ Jennifer almost fell into the room, her eyes sparkling with mischief. ‘You all dressed up,’ she said, noting Henry’s smart appearance. ‘You sit with captain tonight?’
‘Good Lord, no,’ Henry chuckled, ‘but I have been invited to a cocktail party with a friend.’
‘Friend … what friend?’ Jennifer frowned, her eyes narrowing.
‘I’d better be on my way,’ Henry said and side-stepped into the corridor. ‘Thank you for checking my room and have a good evening.’
‘I make room nice for you,’ Jennifer called after him.
Henry paused. ‘I appreciate that, Jennifer, you’re very kind,’ he said softly.
And with the excitement of the evening awaiting him, Henry turned and made his way to the Ocean Bar.
Joy wasn’t used to standing in a bar on her own and decided to order a drink to calm her nerves.
As she sipped the crisp prosecco, she glanced towards the entrance, wondering if Henry would appear.
Golden garlands were strung throughout the room, and a pretty Christmas tree stood in one corner.
To one side of a small dance area, a pianist played a soft rendition of ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’, the notes delicate amidst occasional bursts of laughter from guests gathering for the evening.
Joy smoothed the skirt of her dress and touched the jewelled edge of the bodice.
Leticia had helped Joy get ready, and as she finished sweeping her hair into a chignon at the nape of her neck, she fastened it with a silver comb and told her that she looked amazing.
Joy hardly recognised herself when she checked her reflection in a mirror.
The shoes and bag matched perfectly, and the dress hugged her waist before flowing softly to her knees; the coral colour catching the light and shimmering like a delicate dusting of snow.
Joy remembered a special occasion when she’d longed for something new, but at Tom’s insistence, the navy had been rolled out again.
Despite smiling politely and playing the part, she’d felt herself disappear into the background when, in her heart, she’d wanted to shine in her own light on that notable day.
Whatever would Tom have thought about this outfit, worn on their wedding anniversary?
The thought lingered, and she shook her head to chase it away.
If Tom were still here, she would never have worn a dress like this, nor styled her hair and painted her lips as she had tonight.
But now, on Christmas Eve on a cruise ship, her dress felt just right, and as she finished her drink, she turned to steal a glimpse of herself in the mirror behind the bar.
A tap on her shoulder made Joy jump.
‘Joy?’
There he was. Henry, looking resplendent in his dinner suit.
‘You look …’ Henry hesitated, then laughed. ‘Wow!’
Joy felt heat rise from her neck, but she managed a smile.
‘You look very … good too.’ She wanted to say handsome but bit back the word.
In truth, Joy hardly recognised Henry from his academic attire of tweed jacket, brogues, and his comfy reindeer sweater.
Tonight, he looked entirely different. Elegant in a suit that was perfectly cut, the red pocket hankie a bold touch, and his thick hair neatly groomed.
‘I wasn’t sure that you’d come,’ Joy said as the low hum of music wrapped around them.
‘I’m very honoured that you’ve asked me.’
‘Actually, I wasn’t sure if I should go myself, but Leticia said I’d regret it if I didn’t.’
‘And do you?’
‘Not yet.’
Henry laughed, and the tension between them eased.
‘Leticia asked if we’d like to join them for dinner later,’ Joy said. ‘She’s booked a table in the speciality restaurant.’
‘In Malabar?’ Henry asked. ‘I’d love to try the food there.’
‘Yes, it’s said to be delicious.’
‘But first, the cocktail party.’ Henry smiled. ‘Shall we?’ He held out his arm with a flourish.
Joy hesitated, then took it, and as they moved through the ship, her nerves eased, and she no longer felt like fading into the background.
Henry felt ten feet tall with Joy on his arm as they approached the top deck where Lady Eleanor’s suite was located.
He was relieved that he’d invested in a new formal suit and hoped that he did Joy justice.
She looked so lovely in her coral-coloured dress and moved with such quiet grace that he couldn’t help but glance at her every few steps, as if to reassure himself that she was beside him.
A steward stood at the entrance to the Royal Emerald Suite and greeted the couple as Joy showed her invitation.
Inside they were welcomed with cocktails and Henry’s eyes were wide as he stared at the sheer grandeur before him.
The suite was breathtaking and reminded Henry of a drawing room in a stately home, certainly not accommodation one would expect to find on a ship.
In the centre, a chandelier glimmered above a parquet floor, the grain of dark walnut polished to a mirror-like gleam.
Floor-to-ceiling windows wrapped around the curved edge of an outside flood-lit deck, offering a glorious view of the Arctic world beyond.
‘My goodness, there’s a fire,’ Joy exclaimed and stopped to admire realistic flames dancing over synthetic logs.
They moved towards velvet armchairs and long sofas in shades of deep green and gold, where a string quartet were assembled beside a grand piano.
‘Just look at the artwork,’ she added as they gazed at walls lined with huge abstract images in striking, vibrant colours, ‘this is like something out of a dream.’
‘I’m not sure what this is,’ Henry commented as he studied a pile of empty rusting herring tins, stacked and welded together on a plinth of blue glass.
Joy leaned in and read a label. ‘It’s called Echoes of the Fishwives – an installation by Lucinda Green.’
‘I don’t think Tracey Emin has anything to worry about,’ Henry muttered.
‘Joy!’
Henry and Joy turned as Lady Eleanor came towards them. Elegant in a calf-length silver shift dress adorned with a diamond brooch, her shoulder-length silver hair was held back with a velvet band and again, Joy noticed bright red lipstick staining her teeth as she smiled.
‘I see you’re admiring the art,’ Lady Eleanor said. ‘I like to indulge the artist,’ she added, holding out her hand. ‘And you must be Henry.’
As he acknowledged their host Henry wondered how she knew his name but realised that guest services covered every detail.
‘I’m so glad that you could join us,’ Lady Eleanor said, ‘I was delighted to meet the lovely Joy at the captain’s table and long to hear more about her amazing contribution to education.’
Puzzled, Henry glanced at Joy and saw that she appeared self-conscious.
But Lady Eleanor continued. ‘My dear, please don’t look so embarrassed. Your revelation at the captain’s table was marvellous and I’ve been researching you too. I’m so impressed by your dedication. It’s no wonder that you were awarded the MBE.’
Henry blinked, certain he’d misheard. ‘You have an MBE?’ he asked.