Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
FIRST STEPS ON THE MAT . . .
Hattie woke later than planned the following morning and, as she fought her way out from beneath the covers and moved the mound of cuddly toys nesting against her pillows, she realised that she’d never make it in time for the Temple of Horus tour.
The previous evening, housekeeping had modelled a towelling turtle on her king-sized bed, and after naming him Terry, she’d introduced the softly folded reptile to Claude, Clement, and Kitty the cat.
‘As much as I’ve enjoyed your company,’ Hattie said to the turtle, stifling a yawn as she stretched, ‘your work here is done, and I’d better get a wriggle on.’ She pulled at a flipper until two bath towels came away, and Terry was no more. Grabbing a robe, Hattie placed the towels in the bathroom.
Curious to see where they had berthed, she moved to the window, cautiously opening the curtains.
She took a peek to ensure that no sailors were about to buff both her bosoms if she inadvertently gave them an early morning show, but the coast was clear, and sliding back the balcony door, she stepped out.
‘Blimey,’ she gasped and stared at the dusty quayside at Edfu.
Beyond a narrow road, half-finished apartment blocks stood in concrete tiers, surrounded by bamboo scaffolding, their balconies gaping.
Hattie thought it looked like a town that had begun and then, for whatever reason, the building work had stopped.
Looking up, she saw that a family occupied the opposite apartment, and a gently billowing curtain was the only protection from the dust and heat.
A man in a hooded cloak carrying a crook ambled along the path below, his face almost obscured.
‘I hope that’s not the Grim Reaper,’ she muttered.
Moments later, three coaches came to a halt on the road, and scores of Japanese tourists descended the steps, chattering as they made their way to the boat.
Hattie blinked. Was there something afoot that she knew nothing about?
When a party of Americans arrived soon after and began embarking as well, the penny finally dropped.
Several boats lay moored shoulder to shoulder beside the SS Nefertari, which was berthed closest to the quay.
Hattie realised that these good folks were making their way through to floating homes of their own and, having finished their dawn tour of the temple, would soon be casting off and on their way.
Flicking the TV on, she studied the screen and noted that a Gentle Stretch she looped her arm and steered Sylvie down the stairs. ‘Let’s try something new.’
One hour later, Hattie and Sylvie gripped each other for support as they made their way to a late breakfast. Taking small, careful steps, they slowly headed to their regular table.
Hassan grinned when he saw them. ‘Good morning, ladies,’ he said.
Hattie winced, lowering herself onto a chair, as she lifted one leg painfully into place with a sharp intake of breath.
Sylvie exhaled as she plonked herself down. ‘I didn’t know you could do the splits. It was quite impressive for a woman your age.’
‘Neither did I . . .’ Hattie replied, wondering if she’d soon need both hips replacing.
‘I thought that yoga was supposed to be gentle?’
‘As gentle as a tax investigation,’ Hattie muttered.
‘After breakfast, we should try swimming. It might loosen things up a bit.’
‘You swim; I’ll float gently on a Lilo.’
Hattie glanced at Hassan, knowing the only thing that might loosen her up would be a large gin and tonic. Against her better judgement, she ordered a pot of tea. As she was bracing herself to make her way to the buffet, she saw Peter amble in.
‘Well, here’s the man of the moment.’ Hattie sat back down. ‘Happy birthday!’
‘Hey, Peter!’ Sylvie joined in. ‘Happy birthday to yoooo! Sue tells us that you are sixty today.’
‘That’s very kind of you both, but I rarely discuss my age, especially with the ladies.’ He grinned. ‘But I will add that I’m still licensed to thrill.’
Turning her head, Hattie rolled her eyes, hoping that Peter had thrilled Anouska the previous day. Anything to divert her away from Gerald.
‘Happy birthday, Mr Peter,’ Hassan said. ‘Will you have a birthday Bucks Fizz to start your special day?’
‘Well, I don’t normally . . .’
‘Oh, but you must,’ Sylvie insisted, ‘and we can toast you.’
Delighted to unexpectedly find alcohol on the menu, Hattie pushed her tea to one side and joined in as Hassan and the restaurant crew sang a rousing ‘Happy Birthday’.
Gerald arrived a few minutes later. ‘Have I missed something?’ he asked as he noted the celebratory flutes.
‘It’s Peter’s big birthday, and we’re having a Bucks Fizz,’ Sylvie said.
‘Ah, congratulations, Peter. Anouska will be sorry that she’s missed this. I’m sure she’d have wanted to join in with your celebration.’
Hattie watched Peter attempt an unconvincing smile. She could almost read his mind. Gerald’s wife might have been doing all the chasing, but he was hardly resisting, and even though Anouska said they were separating, Hattie thought Peter looked unsure of how Gerald might react if he found out.
But Gerald showed no sign of annoyance and gave Hattie a wink as he sat down. It hadn’t taken him long to suss out Anouska’s next moves towards Peter.
‘Is Anouska joining us?’ Sylvie asked.
‘No, she has a migraine,’ Gerald replied. ‘It came on last night and is so severe that I asked housekeeping to split the suite into two rooms, locking the connecting door so I don’t disturb her.’
‘Oh, that’s too bad.’ Sylvie nodded sympathetically.
Hattie hid a smile behind her glass. It was an inspired arrangement. A locked interconnecting door would considerably lessen the chances of Gerald being suffocated or stabbed in the night.
Turning to Sylvie, Hattie asked, ‘Where’s Ezra this morning?’
‘He had a really late night.’ Sylvie frowned. ‘I stayed awake until three, when he came in and said that he’d been enjoying the silent disco.’
Hattie nodded. ‘I expect it was hard to tear himself away.’ She knew that the silent disco finished at midnight. She’d checked.
‘I can’t imagine what he was doing for so long, alone.’ Sylvie appeared puzzled. ‘After all, it’s just dancing around in headphones.’
Hattie knew perfectly well that Ezra hadn’t been alone. He would have been with Nazeem, enjoying a little romance. The boat had plenty of hidden corners and unused areas at that time of night.
‘Let’s hope he’ll rally for the party.’ Hattie smiled.
‘Oh sure, and I can’t wait.’ Sylvie clapped her hands. ‘Don’t forget that it’s fancy dress, and there are lots of fun outfits in the gift shop.’
‘I suggest we head that way later,’ Hattie said, then turned to Peter. ‘What are your plans for the day?’ she asked.
‘There’s a meet-and-greet with the captain after sail-away, which I must attend.’ Peter preened as if the invitation was exclusive and not for all the guests. ‘And of course, the Esna Lock before we reach Luxor.’
‘That’s going to be fascinating,’ Gerald joined in. ‘Let’s hope there’s not a long queue of boats waiting to go through.’
‘It will all be worked into the schedule,’ Peter said as though he’d personally planned the detail himself.
‘I have to wait till tomorrow for the Toughest Quiz of the Cruise,’ Sylvie announced. ‘I sure hope I do well.’
Hattie’s hope was that the quiz would be too tough for Sylvie, otherwise she’d have another stuffed creature accompanying her on the journey home.
With plans for the day agreed and breakfast piled high on their plates, Hassan topped up everyone’s glasses.
‘Another?’ he asked Peter.
Peter hesitated only a fraction. ‘Well it would be rude not to on my birthday,’ he said.
‘To sixty,’ Gerald toasted smoothly. ‘May the next decade be plain sailing for you.’
‘But where’s the fun in that?’ Peter replied.
He was about to elaborate when a voice, sharp and clear, cut cleanly across the table.
‘Where’s the fun in what?’
Heads turned.
‘Are you discussing our separation?’ Anouska glared at Gerald.
She stood proudly, then shifted to Peter, resting her fingers on his shoulder. She was immaculate, as though she’d stepped straight out of a photoshoot rather than a crippling migraine. Floaty white chiffon skimmed her figure, and her hair was perfectly scooped off her flawless face.
Hattie watched over the rim of her glass.
Around them the restaurant hummed with cheerful chatter, but with Anouska’s arrival, a different current surged around their table.
When Anouska’s eyes met her own, the glance carried more meaning than words and Hattie knew that it would take more than locked doors at night to keep everyone safe from Anouska’s vitriol for another day.
After breakfast, Hattie returned to her suite to change.
On their fifth day on the boat, they were due to set sail for Luxor, and she’d arranged to meet Sylvie on the top deck for a few leisurely hours in the sun before finalising their fancy-dress outfits.
She stepped out of her shorts and had just begun to pull her T-shirt over her head when her phone rang.
Plonking herself down on the bed, she looked at the screen.
It was Alf, and Hattie settled herself in preparation for their chat.
‘Mornin’,’ Alf said.
Hattie switched to FaceTime, and his face filled the screen. ‘Please tell me you’re standing in my finished bathroom.’ Hattie leaned closer, trying to peer past his shoulder.
‘Aye, near enough,’ Alf replied. ‘Just the floor to finish and we’re there.’
‘Come on then, give me a tour.’
Alf reversed the camera and slowly panned around the bathroom.
Hattie smiled as she noted the lovely white tiling, neatly boxed-in sink, polished mahogany loo seat, and the gleaming glass of the shower cubicle.
But the star of the show was the huge roll-topped, claw-footed bath perfectly positioned beneath the cottage’s leaded window, where it looked out over the garden below.
‘Like a glossy magazine, eh?’ Alf said proudly.
A sudden splash made Hattie frown. Confused, she realised that there was water sloshing about in the bath. When an iridescent green head rose into view and two beady black eyes stared out, Hattie yelped and collapsed back on her pillows.
‘What the devil is that duck doing in my bath!’ she cried, as Drake, recognising her voice, let out a volley of indignant quacks.
‘Just a test drive – don’t get your knickers in a knot.’
‘If anyone is test-driving the bath, it will be me, not that wretched creature!’
‘Don’t be so hard-hearted. Look . . . he’s loving it.’
Alf angled the phone closer. Now, Drake was happily paddling in leisurely circles, accompanied by two plastic ducklings bobbing by his side.
‘Get him out, immediately, Alf! That bath is barely out of its wrapping, and already it’s hosting wildlife.’
‘Wildlife?’ Alf laughed. ‘You’re surrounded by it, and what’s with the cat?’
Hattie wriggled and dislodged the trio draped around her shoulder, where Kitty, Claude and Clement had made themselves comfortable.
‘Egyptian cats symbolise protection and guard households from evil spirits.’ Hattie gave a nod and patted Kitty. ‘So you better warn that duck that the cat is coming home.’
Alf reversed the camera again so Hattie could see his face.
‘That’s one hell of a hooter.’ He chuckled. ‘Aren’t you a bit early for Red Nose Day?’
Hattie narrowed her eyes. ‘It’s caused by sunshine. You may remember it, that bright thing in the sky.’
‘Looks like you’ve been at the cooking sherry.’
Hattie shifted the phone for a more flattering angle. ‘It’s just a rosy glow,’ she mumbled.
‘Rosy?’ Alf laughed again. ‘It’s visible from here. Planes will be using you to land in Luxor.’
‘Very funny,’ Hattie snapped. ‘You should be on a stage. Have you called just to upset me?’
‘I was about to give you some news, but if you’re too busy . . .’
‘News?’ Hattie sat up, sending Kitty, Claude and Clement flying. ‘Have you been to Clitheroe?’
‘Aye.’ Alf smiled. ‘And you might just be interested in what I found out . . .’