Chapter Twenty-Seven
When the curtains rise at Christmas, let the crew entertain you!
‘Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to this very special evening. Our very own crew Christmas show!’ Simon stood on the stage in the Triton Theatre and addressed the packed house.
In a circular box to one side, Lady Eleanor sat with her invited guests: Margaret, Lucinda, Henry, Joy, Leticia, and Jim. ‘Shouldn’t he be gender neutral when greeting us?’ Lady Eleanor asked loudly. She looked around then returned her attention to the stage.
‘The crew members that you see tonight have been rehearsing relentlessly to put this show together for you,’ Simon continued, ‘and along with Captain Lindholm and all the team, we ask you to sit back, relax and let the magic of Christmas come alive right here, on the Emerald Dream stage!’
Joy, sitting beside Leticia, found her eyes wandering to a couple in the front row. She couldn’t be sure but had an inkling that she recognised the man with a large sticking plaster on his forehead, almost covering his bald head. She gave Leticia a gentle nudge and whispered, ‘Is that Kenneth?’
Leticia, whose view was partially obscured, followed Joy’s gaze as the lights dimmed. ‘Well, if the dazzling jewels on the woman next to him are anything to go by, that’s definitely Barbara.’
‘Do you think he’s had an accident?’ Joy was concerned.
But before Leticia had time to reply, the band struck up and the curtains parted to reveal the Emerald Dream dancers glide onto the stage as Miles Donavan burst into song.
Feathers and sequins caught the light as Miles rocked to ‘Holly Jolly Christmas’.
When he gave his rendition of the Hawaiian Christmas song, ‘Mele Kalikimaka’, a team of ladies from the kitchens, hula’d across the stage.
As they performed the ancient dance, barefoot and wearing grass skirts, they carried leis that they gracefully threw into the audience.
Next came enchanting Thai dancers.
The restaurant staff wore glittering silk costumes of golds and reds with flame-like headdresses.
As they moved, every flick of the wrist or dip of the shoulder carried a mystical story of a dance as old as time.
The audience sat in a reverent hush as they followed the slow, hypnotic steps, the bells at the dancer’s ankles chiming softly.
‘Simply marvellous!’ Margaret called out and, holding her fingers to her lips, blew a whistle so loud it woke Lucinda, who’d been snoring in the seat beside her.
The dancers pressed their hands together and bowed their heads, eyes smiling as they left the stage to enthusiastic applause.
‘Esteemed guests!’ Simon said into his microphone as he returned to the stage.
The steward waiting on Lady Eleanor’s party had given him a tip-off, and Simon was determined to be more inclusive.
‘Friends and fellow travellers,’ he continued with a nod to the occupants of the circular box.
‘It gives me such pleasure to introduce our next act. Will you please give a big Emerald Dream welcome to the crew from the engine room … The Backroom Boys!’
The lights went out, and a moment of suspense rippled through the audience.
Then, suddenly … BOOM! A driving beat kicked in from the band.
Under bright spotlights, dancing down the aisles to the stage, ten smiling men in high-vis overalls and steel-toe boots held their hands aloft, clapping to the rhythm as ‘Macho Man’ by the Village People began.
The audience watched with delight as the engine room boys, hips swinging and hard hats held high, launched into their routine.
When the music changed to ‘YMCA’, several guests were on their feet, shaping their arms into the letters of the song.
One of the dancers, supported on a crutch with a heavily bandaged ankle, stepped forward to shrug off the top of his overalls and, bare-chested, began to shimmy in a routine that would make a Vegas showgirl proud.
At the side of the stage, Simon surveyed through half-lidded eyes, vowing that he should have vetted the performance.
As he scanned the audience, which included several elderly guests enthusiastically attempting to mimic the moves, he sighed.
It was only a matter of time before the medical team earned their wages.
Henry was enjoying himself. He’d had a wonderful day, with a first-class Christmas meal and company that had been delightful.
To his surprise, even the conga on the Lido Deck had been absurdly good fun, and, other than Audrey’s Mulled Wine & Misfits party, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d let his hair down so much.
As he sat through the crew Christmas show, he was enthralled.
Those wonderful staff members who worked tirelessly throughout the ship had given up their time to rehearse their acts for the guests, and the result was unexpectedly magical.
There was happiness in every step, laughter in every misstep and a sincerity that no professional company could match, and Henry clapped as hard as he could.
When Simon announced that they were in for a treat, the Triton Theatre fell into an expectant hush.
The stage was dark, and a rustle could be heard. When a single spotlight came on, Jennifer stepped up to the microphone, her trembling hands clasped together. Dressed simply in a traditional soft green gown, her eyes darted nervously, and she gave a nod, then opened her mouth and began to sing.
When her voice emerged, it was clear and achingly beautiful.
Henry was spell-bound. His housekeeper, whom he knew for her kindness and warm smile, was singing in soft lilting tones that carried across the theatre like a lullaby on the wind.
He stared at the little woman as she made a rocking motion with her arms as though soothing a baby to sleep.
Singing at first in Tagalog, her native language, she gently shifted into English and told a story of a mother whispering dreams to her child of a better life and holding onto hopes from oceans away.
Tears sprang to his eyes as he remembered the card that she’d made for him, and he thought of every spare cent she earned, that she must send home to enable her children to eat and attend school.
Jennifer’s voice held everyone captive. When she sang of lighting a candle for her children, in the final verse, there wasn’t a dry eye.
Henry, with a lump in his throat, fumbled for a handkerchief, and when the last note faded, there was silence. Guests were in awe of what had been witnessed. Jennifer bowed low, and an ovation broke like a tidal wave, with applause that brought the house down.
Henry dabbed at his eyes, and as he watched Jennifer step off the stage, he realised that this unassuming little woman had reached into the hearts of strangers and reminded them, despite all their indulgences and privilege, of something so deeply real.
Joy was on her feet beside Leticia when the Backroom Boys finished their act.
They both beamed as they applauded the entertaining engineers, and as Leticia sat down, she tapped Joy’s arm.
‘Yes, I think you’re right, it is Kenneth in the front row, and he seems to have hurt his forehead, but why he’s wearing a lei on top of his head is anyone’s guess. ’
When a woman stepped onto the stage and began a heartfelt Filipino lament, Joy realised that it was Jennifer, Henry’s housekeeper.
She turned her head to catch his eye. Henry was sitting three seats away beside Lucinda, whose head had dropped onto her chest, the slow rise of her shoulders suggesting she was sound asleep.
But as Joy watched Henry, she saw tears glistening on his cheeks.
He was crying and completely caught up in the beauty of Jennifer’s song.
Joy blinked. Soft, warm, kind Henry was dabbing at his cheeks with a handkerchief, his expression unguarded.
The tenderness in his expression touched something in Joy.
She knew that there was more behind his gentle steadiness, and had she not seen him let down his hair today during the conga on the Lido Deck?
Even she had gone along with the fun. But seeing him quietly weeping in a darkened theatre, filled her again with an aching fondness, and she longed, once more, to reach out and take his hand.
The man didn’t hesitate to show such emotion, and Joy found herself blinking back tears of her own.
Joy turned back to the show, but she didn’t see Simon return to the stage, nor hear him introduce the final act.
For too long, she’d let her own hesitation dominate her life, tiptoeing around others and doubting her future.
But here, today, on Christmas Day, as the cast returned, alongside the captain and his officers for the finale, Joy decided that the time had come to talk to Leticia.
Tomorrow she would confide.
Joy wasn’t sure where to start or even what to say, but she was suddenly certain of one thing. It was time to stop waiting for the rest of her life to truly begin.