Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
WHY IS LIFE SO COMPLICATED?
‘Goodness, Hattie, what was that all about?’ Sylvie asked as they searched for a seat in the crowded lounge where Sue was about to begin the quiz. ‘Did you really spend the afternoon with Gerald?’
Hattie considered throwing Sylvie off the scent, but as she sat down, she couldn’t see the point. The afternoon in his company had been unexpectedly perfect.
‘It wasn’t planned,’ Hattie said. ‘Gerald turned up and asked if he could join me. All completely innocent,’ she added.
‘Do you think he has the hots for you?’ Sylvie asked
‘Hots?’ Hattie laughed. ‘Oh, Sylvie, do any of us get the hots at our age?’
Yet as the words left her lips, Hattie knew she’d never lost them and hoped that she never did.
‘Gerald is a good man, and . . . if circumstances were any different, I would welcome his company. But he’s married, and that puts an end to that.’
‘But Hattie, you can see that Anouska hates him.’ Sylvie looked thoughtful. ‘She’s only in the marriage for his money. Surely he knows that?’
‘It’s not for us to judge,’ Hattie said.
Keen to close down the subject, she deliberately changed tack. ‘I wandered through the souk before coming back to the hotel. There were some lovely gowns, and, with your luggage still missing, I took the liberty of treating you to a couple of them. I’ve left a bag by your cabin door.’
Hattie thought of the bustling marketplace, where long, narrow lanes, lined with small stalls, sold everything from spices and herbs to hand-woven Nubian baskets, scarves and vivid, colourful clothes.
With Gerald beside her, they’d lingered over the scent of cardamom and incense, and when she found a stall with pieces she knew would suit Sylvie, Hattie relished the friendly bargaining that completed her deal.
‘Honey, did you really?’ Sylvie was excited. ‘Oh, I can’t wait to see, and of course I’ll reimburse you.’
Hattie waved away Sylvie’s offer with a smile. ‘It’s a pleasure to help you.’
Glancing up, she saw that Sue was about to begin the jukebox quiz. Deciding her brain had been taxed enough for one day, Hattie made her excuses and slipped away.
She was about to head to her suite but decided that first, she would wander up to the top deck and view the lights of Aswan at night, and to her delight, she saw that their boat was berthed on the outside again. The view of the river from her starboard windows would be lovely in the morning.
‘Best make the most of it,’ Hattie told herself as she wandered past the floodlit pool to the deck rail, and stared down at the inky black water, where motorboats zig-zagged like fireflies, knowing that once they sailed back to Luxor her view, when they berthed, would be quayside, and most likely reduced to closeups of neighbouring cabins.
Along the banks, Aswan glowed. The city had come alive, and music swelling with pop songs, drumbeats and chants merged into a single pulsing noise that carried across the Nile.
Buildings everywhere were illuminated. Hotel and apartment blocks washed in yellow and white, while minarets picked out by beams of light, shimmered their reflections on the dark water.
Hattie yawned. She loved the sound and sight of the city, but tiredness was beginning to creep in, and she decided that it was time to head to bed.
Crossing the deck, she heard familiar guitar music.
It was a tune by the Gypsy Kings, one of her favourites, and despite herself, curiosity won.
She followed the music to the bar, where guests had gathered to listen to the resident entertainer strumming the tune against a backing track.
Hattie loved this song, and the rhythm soon wrapped itself around her. So much for an early night.
Hoisting herself onto a bar stool, she ordered a glass of wine.
Tapping her fingers and nodding along, she noticed a couple appear at the top of the stairs to wander onto the deck. It was Anouska, with Peter just behind. Hattie hoped to go unnoticed in the dim light. The last thing she wanted was a confrontation with Anouska.
But she needn’t have worried. Anouska barely glanced at the bar as she held out her phone to Peter.
He hesitated, clearly reluctant, his hand hovering.
Anouska said something, low and insistent, and Peter’s eyes flicked around the deck.
As if checking to make sure no one was watching, he finally took the phone and kept his distance as he photographed Anouska, posing by the pool, turning slowly to catch the moonlight.
When he handed the phone back, Anouska caught his arm and steered him towards a pair of steamer chairs.
Hattie noticed Peter resisting for a moment, glancing around once more.
But with no one paying them any attention, he allowed himself to be drawn down beside her.
When the music paused, and Hattie turned to enjoy her drink, she realised that Ezra was moving unsteadily through the bar, across the deck and towards the stairs.
‘Ezra!’ she called out.
He turned at the sound of his name, and Hattie could see that the lad was clearly the worse for wear. Sliding from her stool, she started after him.
Ezra had reached the curve in the stairs and was already halfway down when his foot slipped on the carpet. Hattie saw the helpless lurch, spinning Ezra forward. But before she could get anywhere near him, a voice cut through the air.
‘Whoa, steady on! I’ve got you.’
To her relief, Gerald was already there, scooping Ezra into his arms before he could fall any further.
‘Thank goodness,’ Hattie breathed. ‘I think the poor lad has had a drop too much. If you can help get him to my cabin, I’ve got something that might ease his symptoms.’
Supporting Ezra between them, they manoeuvred their way down a further flight and along the corridor to Hattie’s suite.
‘Stick the kettle on and make a coffee,’ Hattie told Gerald as they sat Ezra down on the sofa. She went to the bathroom and returned with a glass of liquid. ‘Now, Ezra, knock this back, and you’ll feel much better.’
Ezra fumbled for the glass. He took a sniff and pulled a face, but did as he was told.
The liquid hit the back of his throat, and his eyes flew open, whites flashing as though he’d been slapped, as Hattie’s concoction scorched its way down his throat.
Hattie and Gerald stood by as Ezra shook his head, his dreadlocks bouncing.
‘Hell, Hattie,’ he croaked, grimacing as the aftertaste lingered. ‘What was that?’
‘Just a little recipe for hangovers that I devised in my hotel days. Many a guest benefitted from it.’ She smiled.
‘Well, it sure works,’ Ezra muttered, handing the empty glass back before taking a mug of coffee from Gerald.
Hattie turned to Gerald. ‘You’d better go. There’ll be hell to pay if Anouska finds you here.’ She didn’t add that it was unlikely, as Anouska was otherwise engaged on the top deck with Peter.
‘I was looking for her. We need to talk,’ Gerald said, moving towards the door.
Hattie followed him into the narrow space by the corridor. ‘Well, don’t let things spoil your holiday,’ she said lightly. ‘There’s time to sort it out.’
Gerald hesitated. ‘Hattie, I really enjoyed today,’ he said. ‘More than I expected. In fact . . .’
She lifted her hand, stopping him gently but firmly. ‘I enjoyed it too,’ she said, meeting his eyes. ‘You’re a lovely man.’
There was a brief pause, with something unspoken hovering between them. Then Hattie softened her voice. ‘Now go and find your wife.’
Gerald nodded.
As he moved away, Hattie watched him wander along the corridor. When he reached the end, he turned, raised his hand and, with a lingering smile, blew her a kiss.
Back in her room, Hattie shut the door and, for a moment, leaned against it. She touched her cheek as though catching the kiss as it landed. Closing her eyes, she wished the kiss had been real.
‘Why is life so complicated?’ she murmured.
If Anouska wasn’t on the scene, she’d have arranged to meet Gerald again in a heartbeat.
But a woman like Anouska wasn’t someone to tangle with, and Hattie knew that if Gerald wanted out, things would get messy before they were finished, and she didn’t want to be party to that.
She had no wish to be caught in the wreckage of someone else’s marriage, no matter how deliciously tempting the man.
Hattie sighed and returned to Ezra.
‘Now, young man, I think it’s time you and I had a little chat . . .’
Anouska was furious with Gerald. Her husband had lied and, worse, made her look foolish when he publicly announced that he wanted time out.
What was shoddier was how he’d chosen to spend that time, with that overweight, middle-aged woman whose gaudy dress sense was as tasteless as everything about her.
But as she sat on the top deck in the moonlight, having finally persuaded Peter to sit down, she feigned interest in Peter’s colourful life, and found herself thinking that this river cruise was changing Gerald.
The man she had so easily manipulated was no longer compliant and now didn’t give in to her every demand.
Things could become difficult if she didn’t make sure events unfolded her way, but to ensure that, she would have to up her game.
Anouska knew that if Gerald were to die, his current will stated that she would inherit everything.
Judith would receive a generous lump sum, far greater than she deserved, in Anouska’s opinion.
His daughter had already been handed a house and more money than she and her tedious husband could ever hope to spend.
Just because Gerald had changed, and may now be regretting his marriage, Anouska saw no reason why she should be the one expected to give up what, as his wife, was rightfully hers.
What she couldn’t afford was delay.
Time would give Gerald space to think, and she sensed he was falling for Hattie.
She’d seen the way his eyes lingered on the woman across the dinner table, with the softness that he once reserved for her.
Back home, if Anouska wasn’t careful, Gerald would be off to see his solicitor before she had time to blink.
Anouska deliberated as Peter began another rambling tale. If, during this holiday, something was to happen to Gerald, an incident that could be put down to chance, then matters might resolve very neatly.
‘You can’t afford to have any liabilities,’ Peter droned on, oblivious to Anouska’s lack of interest. ‘In my world, one has to make them disappear.’
Anouska pricked up her ears and smiled at Peter.
Liabilities? Gerald had become her liability and allowing things to linger would be her biggest mistake.
She reached out and let her fingers rest lightly on Peter’s arm. ‘I’ve so enjoyed chatting with you tonight,’ she said. ‘Unlike my husband, who doesn’t understand my need for scintillating conversation, you really are such an interesting man.’
Peter puffed out his chest. ‘Well . . .’ he began, clearly flattered. ‘It’s the life I lead, I suppose. You pick things up along the way. I’ve seen a lot more than most.’
Anouska smiled, her hand still in place. Men like Peter were so easy to manipulate and should things not go her way with Gerald, it would do no harm to have a backup in place.
Hattie was walking Ezra to his cabin when Sylvie appeared. She clutched a very large, fabric crocodile. The velvety, leaf-green body was tight against her chest, and its floppy legs draped over her arm.
‘Hi, guys!’ Sylvie called out. ‘Hey, Ezra, I thought you were having an early night?’
Ezra glanced nervously at Hattie.
‘Unfortunately, I disturbed him, and your son has kindly helped me with my TV,’ Hattie said, crossing her fingers behind her back to cancel out her fib. ‘I’m useless and couldn’t find any channels.’
Ezra, relieved that he didn’t have to explain himself, gave a grateful smile. Three cups of coffee and Hattie’s hangover cure, and he was almost back to himself.
‘He’s such a kind boy, aren’t you?’ Sylvie said, giving Ezra’s arm a squeeze as the crocodile slipped lower. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without him.’
Hattie thought it was high time Sylvie gave that matter some serious thought, especially after her recent conversation with Ezra, but she decided to keep quiet.
Now wasn’t the moment.
‘Well, I’ll bid you both goodnight and I can return to my TV.’ Hattie smiled. ‘Ezra, you’re a lifesaver.’
Ezra nodded. You too, he mouthed.
‘Oh, before you go, I want to gift you Clement.’ Sylvie held out the crocodile. ‘I won the jukebox quiz, and he was the first prize.’
‘I couldn’t possibly . . .’ Hattie mumbled. Alarmed, she took a step back as the toy’s glass eyes glinted, and its felt teeth showed the hint of a sinister smile.
‘Nonsense,’ Sylvie said, pressing Clement into Hattie’s arms. ‘He’s a sweetheart and will be something for you cuddle up to at night.’
Hattie wanted to reply that her room would soon resemble a zoo. With a camel, a croc and whatever wild and wonderful creation the housekeeping boys had whipped up to amuse or terrify her next. But with Clement solid against her body, she gave in.
‘That’s very kind, Sylvie, but I wouldn’t want to . . .’
‘I insist.’ Sylvie’s tone was firm. ‘You’ve treated me today, and I can’t wait to try on my new gowns.’
Clement was heavier than Hattie expected, and she shifted his head to rest on her shoulder.
‘I’m sure he’s friendly,’ Ezra offered.
‘Well, I wouldn’t want to argue with a crocodile.’
Hattie turned towards her suite, just as the housekeeping boys were coming out.
As she thanked them and let herself in, she thought that the only thing she’d like to be cuddling all night was Gerald.
But that was a non-starter. Moving across the sitting room to turn to her bedroom, Hattie stared at the bed and paused.
There was a duck on her pillow.
The bird sat to the left of Claude, its towelling neck arched and its beak angled, as though poised to peck anyone who dared to approach.
‘Nooo . . .’ Hattie thought of Drake and shook her head. Deciding that crocodiles would undoubtedly eat ducks, she tentatively pushed Clement onto the bed. ‘Sort it out among yourselves.’
She didn’t wait to see who’d won, and pulling her kaftan over her head, slipped out of her bra and crossed, half-naked, to the minibar. If she was going to share her bed with a camel, a crocodile and a hostile duck, she would need a nightcap.
Selecting a miniature bottle and pouring the contents into a glass, Hattie returned to the bed, edged between the covers and settled back on the pillows.
‘To the animal kingdom,’ she said in a toast, enjoying the creamy liqueur.
Reaching for the light, she flicked it off, just as Claude and Clement collided and the duck’s flannel beak landed on her shoulder. ‘Now, boys,’ Hattie murmured from beneath Clement’s head, ‘no fighting after lights out!’