Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
TO LIVING A HAPPY LIFE . . .
Anouska was furious as she made her way from the boat’s lower deck and climbed the stairs to the third floor. Her scheme had been simple: once she lured Peter into bed with her charm and sexual skills, she was certain he would fall hopelessly under her spell. But her plan had backfired badly.
Arriving at his cabin, she saw Peter, standing by the door. He raised a hand, pressed a finger to his lips, then placed his ear against the wood.
‘What are you doing?’ Anouska demanded.
‘Insurgents . . .’ he whispered.
Behind Peter’s back, Anouska rolled her eyes and buried a sigh, then reached out to caress his arm. ‘There’s no one in there,’ she soothed.
But Anouska was wrong, and when the door suddenly opened, and a maintenance man appeared, she leapt back from an overpowering smell, tugging at her sarong to cover her nose.
‘What on earth . . .’ she gasped.
The man, wearing stained overalls, looked apologetic. ‘Back-up in your toilet,’ he said. ‘We’ve had complaints from this side of the deck. Your pipes are blocked.’
Peter looked puzzled and, as a sour wave drifted past him into the corridor, wondered if he’d overdone the vegetable curry the previous evening. ‘I knew it,’ he said, shaking the thought away. ‘Sabotage.’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake,’ Anouska snapped, still shielding her nose. ‘It’s the plumbing.’
The maintenance man stepped aside. ‘It will take a while to clear, so best give it some space,’ he said.
Peter nodded. ‘Carry on.’
As he turned to follow Anouska down the corridor, she shot him a look. ‘Insurgents, really?’
Peter cleared his throat. ‘One can never be too careful.’
When she arrived back at her suite, she remembered the metallic clang and gurgle of protesting pipes as she’d pecked Peter on the cheek and told him not to worry, there would be another opportunity.
Things had not gone to plan!
Now, as she moved into the cabin, the first thing Anouska noticed was that the bed had been made up as two singles. Gerald’s intentions were clear, but at least he hadn’t decamped to that odious woman’s suite, she thought, flinging down her bag on the nearest bed.
She was about to head to the minibar when she realised that the balcony doors were open and Gerald sat outside.
‘What are you doing?’ Anouska demanded.
‘I’m relaxing, Anouska,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s a pastime I’ve realised I haven’t enjoyed for a very long time.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘It means,’ he replied, standing and turning to face her, as he stepped into the room, ‘that knowing that our life together will be over once this boat docks in Luxor, gives me a sense of calm that I’d forgotten was possible.’
‘What?’ Anouska stared at him. ‘Are you throwing me out of our home?’
‘It’s not your home anymore.’ Gerald’s tone remained measured. ‘You may stay in the guest annexe until you find somewhere more permanent, but there will be conditions.’
‘Conditions?’
‘I’ll arrange for a lump sum to be paid to you as a divorce settlement, which will tide you over for at least a year,’ he said. ‘On the condition that you move out within a week.’
‘You must be crazy!’ Anouska screamed.
‘Yes, you’re right. I think I’ve been crazy for far too long,’ Gerald held her gaze. ‘But when you attempted to kill me, the craziness suddenly cleared. I might have been far more generous had you not shown such determination to end my life.’
Anouska’s fury erupted. Reaching out blindly, her fingers closed around a vase from the side table. She lifted it, eyes wild. ‘I wish I had killed you,’ she spat.
‘You almost did.’
‘I should have pushed you harder and made sure that nothing broke your fall!’
‘And now?’ Gerald asked coolly. ‘You want to finish the job with that?’
‘I will kill you, Gerald, if you don’t give me what I want!’ Anouska threw the vase to the floor, the carpet cushioning the impact. ‘I want a substantial house and enough money that I never have to work again.’
Gerald shook his head and, to her disbelief, laughed.
‘Mark my words,’ Anouska threatened. ‘I’ll make sure you won’t have time to change your will, and everything will come to me!’
Without replying, Gerald slipped his phone from the top pocket of his shirt and moved towards the door. ‘I think you need some time alone to reflect,’ he said, stepping into the corridor.
‘To hell with reflection!’ Anouska snapped, stooping to pick up the vase. But before she could throw it, she saw him glance at the screen, type, then press a button.
‘What are you doing?’ she demanded.
‘I’m forwarding the recording I’ve just made of this conversation to my solicitor.’
Anouska’s jaw dropped and she stared at Gerald as her face drained of colour and realisation set in. With a cry of rage, she flung the vase at him.
But Gerald, anticipating her action, moved fast and the door, like the rest of her life, had suddenly closed on Anouska.
The alfresco bar was busy when Hattie made her way to the dining terrace to meet Sylvie and Ezra, having decided to have a change from the Hapi restaurant. Lanterns glowed softly against the night sky, and the hum of conversation was pleasant as Nazeem showed her to a table.
She’d chosen the open-air setting, hoping to avoid a confrontation with Anouska, deciding it best to keep a wide berth.
But as she sat down and looked around, Hattie felt a flicker of concern.
She’d not seen Gerald all afternoon and hoped he’d recovered from his ordeal that morning.
Perhaps he’d had a nap or found a quiet corner away from his wife.
Settling herself, Hattie ordered a gin and tonic.
The boat moved at a slow, unhurried pace, and looking out at the sky, she saw that streaks of orange and amber were fading, and stars scattered like fairy dust into the dark, velvety blue.
Sipping her drink, Hattie gave a contented sigh.
The river cruise had been a lovely holiday, layered with history and the beauty of the Nile, and she’d enjoyed every moment.
Travel was a wonderful way to broaden one’s horizons and the past few days had reminded her of how much she enjoyed it.
She’d made new friends in Sylvie and Ezra, and Sylvie’s warmth and enthusiasm and Ezra’s kindness had surprised her more than once.
Hattie hoped that the friendship would continue.
She smiled when she thought of Ezra, who was now, in his own way, trying to explain to his mother that he’d chosen a different path, and one that might not meet his family’s expectations.
But would Sylvie listen, and open her eyes and her ears?
To allow him, as he’d so simply put it, to be the man he was meant to be?
And what of Peter? Who was the real man beneath the fantasy facade he portrayed?
Surely there was more to him. Hattie hoped to hear from Alf soon and assumed Peter must lead an ordinary enough life back in Clitheroe, perhaps with a steady job, a long marriage until Mary went missing, with familiar routines.
But why the pretence? What did it serve, and what were his true feelings for Mary?
Hattie felt sure that there was more to their story, and – like Agatha – not being one to leave a mystery unsolved, she wondered if she’d ever uncover the truth.
And then there was Gerald. He’d entered her life so unexpectedly, and Hattie – an old hand at analysing her emotions – knew that this was no passing attraction, and that whatever was between them ran deep.
Yet Gerald was still married, and this was territory she’d never trespassed on in the past. But as Hattie saw the sliver of a new moon rise in the inky sky, she allowed herself a wish.
In time, when Gerald’s uncertainties had settled, they might have the chance to properly get to know each other, without complications and the shadow of Anouska hanging heavily over both their heads.
Hattie finished her drink, and as she looked around to order another, she saw Sylvie and Ezra hurrying across the deck towards her.
‘Hey, Hattie!’ Sylvie called out and held up a hand to wave.
Hattie returned the greeting and saw that Sylvie carried a black cat. The sleek velvet creature sat upright, with triangular ears and almond-shaped eyes embroidered in gold. Hattie noted the cat’s haughty, watchful gaze and suspected that she knew what was coming.
‘Look what I won for you!’ Sylvie declared and thrust the toy onto Hattie’s lap. ‘I got the highest score in the Scrabble competition,’ she added proudly. ‘It will be your new companion.’
‘Really, Sylvie, there’s no need . . .’
Hattie noted a narrow ribbon of gold around the cat’s neck, embellished with a tiny scarab charm, and wondered how a cat would get on with Claude the camel and Clement the croc.
Behind his mother, Ezra grinned. ‘Those long winter nights in Canada really helped Mom up her game,’ he said. ‘She’s a beast at triple-word play.’
‘And you have to give the cat a home, as my thanks for letting me raid your wardrobe,’ Sylvie insisted as she pulled out a chair and sat down.
Hattie refrained from mentioning that there was scarcely a wardrobe left to raid, not wanting to spoil her friend’s pleasure. The flame-red kaftan Sylvie was wearing was one of Hattie’s favourites, but she told Sylvie that she looked fabulous, adding generously, ‘It looks far better on you.’
‘Goodness, Hattie.’ Sylvie leaned in. ‘What happened to your nose? It’s brighter than this kaftan.’
‘It got sunburnt today,’ Hattie replied.
‘Can I call you Rudolph?’ Ezra offered, staring at Hattie’s glowing nose.
Hattie laughed. ‘You can call me anything you like.’
They ordered drinks, and Ezra studied the menu. Sylvie lowered her voice and, looking around the deck, said, ‘I wonder where Peter is. Sue told me that it is his sixtieth birthday tomorrow and she’s going to surprise him with a cake.’
‘That’s nice.’ Hattie nodded, moving the cat to one side. ‘Our schedule says there is a dinner at the Winter Palace Hotel.’
‘Yes,’ Sylvie said excitedly, ‘and guess what . . .’
‘Surprise me.’
‘The evening is going to be a fancy-dress event!’
‘Oh, lovely.’ Hattie envisaged a procession of normally sensible adults creeping across the Corniche to descend on the Winter Palace, draped in white sheets and pharaoh headdresses, carrying crooks and flails. ‘Tell me,’ she said carefully, ‘the fancy dress . . . is it optional?’
‘Oh no, you have to join in to get a ticket.’ Sylvie laughed. ‘And there are prizes.’
Ezra nodded at Hattie. ‘And Mom is sure to win,’ he said with a grin.
As they were deciding what to have for dinner, Hattie noticed Gerald appear on the deck. Alone, he paused and looked around, and when his eyes found hers, he offered a tentative wave.
‘Oh look, there’s Gerald,’ Sylvie said brightly, turning in her chair. ‘Honey, come and join us!’ Gerald made his way over, and before he could even sit down, Sylvie went straight for an update.
‘Where’s Anouska?’ she asked.
Gerald greeted Hattie and Ezra, then turned to Sylvie and told her that his wife was tired and would be ordering room service that evening.
Sylvie nodded as she studied the menu. ‘Sure, the stress of your fall will have affected her. She must be so relieved that you are okay.’
Hattie felt relief that Gerald was okay and caught his eye.
The warmth that she saw made her melt. How she longed to reach out and take his hand to pull him into a hug.
She wondered how the afternoon had unfolded and whether he had followed her advice to prompt Anouska into an admission and to record their conversation.
But the slight nod he gave her, accompanied by a discreet, almost conspiratorial wink, told her he’d followed their concocted plan and been successful.
Hattie knew that whatever had been said, Gerald now possessed proof of Anouska’s attempt on his life, and thus armed, she hoped that he’d done what was necessary.
‘I think we should have bubbles,’ Hattie announced. ‘My treat.’
‘Are we celebrating?’ Sylvie asked.
‘We’re celebrating our fortunate and varied lives,’ Hattie said, patting Sylvie’s hand.
‘I’ll go with that,’ Ezra agreed.
When Nazeem brought the glasses and carefully poured the champagne, Hattie made a toast.
‘To making friends and lasting memories!’
All around, the guests enjoyed their dinner, and the SS Nefertari sailed steadily on.
As the Nile gently flowed and darkness closed in, Luxor lay waiting for them at the end of the river cruise journey.
But for now, in the warm night air, there was only the soft chink of crystal and the hum of happy conversation.
Hattie raised her glass to her lips, catching Gerald’s eye across the rim.
To living a happy life, she thought, as he smiled in response.
And . . . whatever comes next . . .