“Oh!” Lorna cried, as she almost tripped over him for the fifth time. “Lord Nottingham, I know how you love a good caramelized onion, but the soup isn’t ready yet.”
Lord Nottingham looked up at her and emitted a plaintive yowl.
“No,” Lorna insisted. “If you’re that hungry, go drink some of your milk.” She waved the knife in her hand towards the corner of the kitchen, where the cat’s dishes were positioned.
He didn’t budge.
“Shoo!” Lorna said. “Off with you! You know what they say about too many cooks in the kitchen. And I really don’t want to trip over you while I’m holding this knife. Go!”
Lord Nottingham looked utterly dejected as he began to slink off, which caused Lorna to regret her harsh words. She put down the knife, washed her hands, and then walked over to the cat. Though he’d only lived with her for six months, she knew that he’d been a stray on her aunt’s property for far longer than that. This was practically his cottage after all; she was his houseguest.
“I’m sorry,” she said, scooping him up and nuzzling his face. “I shouldn’t talk like that to you. This is your cottage too. You can go wherever you want, how’s that?”
Lord Nottingham began to purr.
“That’s better,” Lorna cooed. “Let’s be friends. Speaking of our friendship, there’s something I feel I should tell you. I’m going to be going away for a little bit, in just a few days. You’re going to have to stay with someone else while I’m away. I know you were used to finding your own way before I got here, but I’m afraid you’ve gotten soft. You expect regular meals, don’t you?”
The cat’s green eyes met Lorna’s. With his stare he seemed to confirm what she already knew: he was very particular about his feedings.
“Okay then,” she said, “that’s settled. You’ll stay in the village while I’m off on my cruise.”
The word “cruise” made her heart flutter. “We’ll get there fast, and then we’ll take it slow…” she sang as she set Lord Nottingham down onto his feet and bustled back into the kitchen. Her mind was already on what bathing suit and sandals she would pack for the trip.
Chapter 2
Lorna trudged forward, pulling on the heavy rolling suitcase as she went. Why had she decided to bring the larger of her two luggage options? It may have had something to do with the fact that she’d had so much trouble trying to choose just one bathing suit, or one pair of sandals.
Or one of anything, for that matter.
Instead, for the seven-day excursion, she’d packed ten of each item: ten fun and colorful summer tops, ten pairs of modest shorts, ten different pairs of sandals.
Betty, on the other hand, had packed light. Lorna eyed her friend’s suitcase enviously as the two traversed the Barcelona International Airport concourse.
Once outside in the bright spring sunshine, Lorna held her hand to her brow and scanned the row of parked and waiting shuttles. It didn’t take long to locate the one with “Muelle Adosado” emblazoned on the side.
Lorna pulled her notebook from her purse and gave the top page a quick read. Yes, there it was: “The Mariasca will depart from the Muelle Adosado marina,” she read aloud. Then she pointed at the shuttle.
“That’s us, Betty!” Her voice wavered with excitement and some fatigue. They’d been traveling since before the sun came up that morning and hadn’t even sat down for a proper breakfast. Lorna was looking forward to boarding the cruise liner and tucking into one of the buffet-style meals she’d been imagining.
“You lead the way,” Betty said. Lorna could tell that her friend was also a bit fatigued. Betty only used her cane occasionally, and she was leaning on it heavily now as they walked towards the shuttle.
When they reached the shuttle, Lorna peeked inside. “Are you going to the Muelle Adosado Port?” she asked the driver, just to be certain.
He smiled kindly and gave a nod before jumping out to stow the women’s luggage. Lorna wondered if he spoke any English. I’m a long way from Florida, she thought as she settled into her seat.
Moving to England was one thing because the language was familiar to her. It sounded entirely different sometimes, given the thick accent of most of the villagers, but at least it was English. Now, as Spanish and a mix of other languages floated through the air around her, she realized just how exotic the vacation ahead of her promised to be.
The shuttle took less than ten minutes to drive from the airport to the marina. Large, grandiose, sparkling white, black, and navy blue luxury cruise liners lined the docks, floating in the clear aquamarine sea.
“How does it all look?” Betty asked, smiling as the two dragged their bags down a dock marked with a large “A.” Lorna had consulted her notes and knew that their boat, the Mariasca, would be waiting for them there.
“Beautiful,” Lorna said with a sigh. This time the sigh was a happy one. “Glittering azure water, sunny blue skies…and the boats, Betty! They’re stunning. Some are very large—seven stories high, I’d say.” Lorna looked up as they passed one particularly tall and impressive boat.
“Seven stories!” Betty exclaimed. “Well, I never.”
Because Betty had grown up in Tweed-upon-Slumber, Lorna wondered if the statement was true, literally. Maybe Betty really had never seen something like where they stood now. Lorna was not entirely sure how much traveling Betty had ever done in her life, or when she’d lost her eyesight. Once Betty had mentioned that her son moved to Madagascar, but she’d clearly not wanted to talk about the subject matter, so Lorna never brought it up again. Now she wondered: How much beyond the village has Betty ever seen?
“Are they all that big?” Betty asked as they navigated through a cluster of Italian-speaking tourists.
Lorna had to raise her voice above the crowd to respond. “No, not all of them. Some are more compact—but none modest by any means. They’re all grand. Look! There’s the Mariasca!”
Lorna caught herself after the words had already slipped out of her mouth. “Sorry, Betty. I meant to say ‘this way’… I’ll lead us to the Mariasca.”
Betty laughed good-heartedly. She had a wonderful sense of humor about her sight impairment.
The Mariasca was a luxury liner in every sense of the word. The exterior of the ship was pristine white with opulent golden accents. Lorna caught sight of gleaming glass windows, polished wooden decks, and even sumptuous lounge chairs positioned next to what looked like a lap pool.
“There’s a pool!” she said, quickening her step. “It looks like a lap pool!”
“Do you swim laps?” Betty asked as if the word was somewhat foreign. Lorna knew that the only laps Betty was familiar with was the way her guide dog, Sir-Eats-Alot, took up water from his dish. Sir-Eats-Alot, along with Lord Nottingham, had been left with Muriel back in the village.
“I used to occasionally, back in Florida,” Lorna said. “But I haven’t in a while. Not that I plan on it during this vacation. Oh, I just want to relax and soak up the sun. Exercise can wait until we return home.”
“Right,” Betty agreed. “How many stories is it?”
Lorna counted quickly. “Three.”
“Three!” Betty repeated with delight.
“Yes,” Lorna said happily. “Three tiers…like a beautiful wedding cake. The top tier is quite small. Maybe that’s where the Captain's quarters are.”
As they approached the ship, Lorna noticed little velvety red ropes lining the on-ramp. I feel like a movie star, she thought as they entered the roped-off corral. Immediately, two staff members approached. Both wore navy shorts and crisp white polo shirts with golden name badges that identified them as workers.
“Right this way,” said one.
“We’ll handle the luggage,” said the other.
It felt wonderful to release the handle of her bulky suitcase, and Lorna immediately felt lighter as she began traversing the ramp. Betty was close behind her.
At the end of the long ramp, a line of staff members were positioned
to greet them.
Again, Lorna felt like a movie star—or royalty. She wasn’t sure which, but both were wonderful options that she couldn’t complain about.
The tanned, polo-shirted crew member that was leading them up the ramp turned as they reached the very top.
“Welcome aboard the Mariasca!” he said with a flourish of his hand.
Lorna’s fatigue and hunger had entirely disappeared. So this is how the wealthy live, she thought as she looked around her. Crew members bustled about, guests mingled by the railings sipping champagne, and light violin music floated through the air as if a live string quartet might be just around the corner.
Ahead she saw three men, standing in a line. The crew member that had led Lorna and Betty up the ramp now guided them towards the men.
He continued to beam as he began making introductions. “Lorna Merryweather, Betty Wardenshire, I am pleased to introduce you to our ship’s captain, Lou Gasparini.”
The first man in line stepped forward and flashed a winning smile. By the look of his salt-and-pepper hair and somewhat weathered skin, Lorna guessed that he was in his sixties. He was tall with a strong build, and he looked quite impressive in his captain’s uniform: a head-to-toe navy blue suit with gold stripes on the sleeves and a golden star on each lapel.
“Welcome aboard the Mariasca,” the captain said. “I’m so glad you could join us for this majestic ship’s last voyage on the Mediterranean.” His voice carried traces of an Italian accent.
“The last voyage?” Lorna asked. “I didn’t know that this was to be the last.”
“Yes,” Lou replied. Lorna couldn’t be sure, but she thought she picked up some happiness about this fact in his tone.
“Will you be out of a job, then?” Betty asked.
Lorna elbowed her friend, but Betty didn’t pick up on the meaning of Lorna’s gesture.
“Ow! Watch it,” Betty said to Lorna. And then, to the captain. “Well? That’s a shame if that’s the case.”
“Ah, yes. You are correct madame.” Lou gave a little laugh. “I’ll be out of a job…but I’ll be into retirement, and so that’s just fine with me.”
Indeed, Lorna could see by the twinkle in his eyes that Captain Lou Gasparini was looking forward to his golden years.
Next in line was a man who looked younger and less dignified than the captain. Instead of a crisp, pressed uniform, the man wore somewhat wrinkled navy slacks and a white button-down shirt with the top buttons undone. There were fewer stripes on his sleeves and only one star on his lapel. He was shorter than the captain, but just as lean and fit.
Is everyone on this ship good looking? Lorna wondered as she took in the vice-captain’s strong features. It seemed that she’d stepped into a world of beautiful people.
“This is our vice-captain, Leon Thomas,” the crew member said with less reverence in his voice than when he introduced the captain.
Leon Thomas was distractedly looking around the boat, in every direction except at Lorna and Betty.
The crew member coughed into his hand, getting the vice-captain’s attention. “As I said, this is Vice-Captain Thomas. Leon? Care to welcome our esteemed guests on board?”
“Oh, right,” the vice-captain said, sticking out his hand.
Lorna shook it, and then Betty.
“Welcome,” Leon said. He was distracted again, looking over Lorna’s shoulder.
She wanted to know who he was searching for, but she held back from asking. No need to be nosey, she reminded herself. This is a vacation. I’m putting all of that behind me.
“Have you ladies sailed with us before?” Leon asked. His words were rushed, and Lorna could tell he was posing the questions because he had to, not because he cared. She could imagine a cruise-liner training manual, with instructions about guest interactions. “Ask questions; engage with the guests; inquire whether they have sailed with us before,” the manual would say.
Though she knew Leon wasn’t particularly listening to her reply, she answered anyway. “This is our first time. I’ve always wanted to go on a cruise, but I never got around to it. Life got in the way, as they say! My friend Betty here was given the tickets, and she graciously invited me.”
As Lorna expected, Leon was too distracted to reply. He’d fulfilled his duty by posing the question, and now he was through with them.
There was already a small line of passengers gathering behind them, waiting to be introduced to the staff, so Lorna and Betty moved forward to the next person in line.
“And this,” said their crew-member guide, “is our ship’s owner, Mr. Raul Alvarez. He’s decided to join us for his ship’s final trip around the sea.”
Raul Alvarez was even younger than Vice-Captain Thomas. While Leon looked to be in his forties, Raul seemed to have just breached his thirties. He had caramel-colored skin and jet black hair, and he was smoking a cigarette. He moved it to his left hand as he greeted Lorna and Betty.
“I’m happy that you could join us,” Raul said with a suave Spanish accent.
“We’re happy too,” Betty said.
Lorna coughed as a curling tendril of smoke wafted into her face. She waved her hand, but Raul Alvarez didn’t take the hint. He lifted the cigarette to his lips and inhaled. When he spoke again, smoke billowed out of his mouth.
“We’ll be celebrating the Mariasca’s retirement in style,” he said.
Lorna had a feeling that this man celebrated many things in style. He looked like the type that was used to partying with the world’s rich and famous.
Raul went on, speaking between drags of his cigarette. “You’ll have the opportunity to tour the ship. It’s quite a work of art. I hope that you enjoy it’s fine design elements as much as I do.”
Lorna felt certain that she would.
Raul continued. “In the mornings you can partake of champagne brunches; there’s no better way to start the day than with a good mimosa. And in the evening, there will be a theater production in the main showroom—dancing, magic, comedy, a cabaret… We have a fine lineup for you. On the final night…”
He inhaled.
Lorna leaned forward. She couldn’t wait to hear what was in store for them on the final night. It all sounded so wonderful!
A cloud of smoke billowed around her as Raul finally spoke. “The Captain’s Ball. I hope you brought formalwear with you. That’s the night to wear your best gown.”
Best gown! Lorna hurriedly thought over her cruise ship wardrobe. She did pack one pair of shorts that had a panel in the front to turn it into a skort: a mix between shorts and a skirt. It would have to do.
“Of course, we brought formal wear,” she said as if she always traveled with a gown in her bag.
Alvarez grinned. Though he was smiling with his mouth, his eyes remained steely and somber. Lorna had the feeling that he was used to schmoozing, but that it was largely an act. She did not get a warm and fuzzy feeling from the man.
“Which way to our cabins?” Betty asked. She was used to Tweed-upon-Slumber’s overcast days. The intense sun was starting to sizzle her skin, and she wanted to find shade.
Raul and the crew member directed the two ladies towards their waiting room. Soon Lorna and Betty were standing in a plush double suite.
“Marvelous!” Lorna looked around the fancy room. It was nothing like the sparse loft-bedroom that she occupied at home. For one thing, there was no broom propped in the corner, ready to shift about unnervingly if she did the slightest thing to upset it. For another, there was no cauldron set up beneath the window, ready to be used on a full moon.
The room was modern, deluxe, and entirely lacking in magical accouterments. All of this was fine with Lorna. She was looking forward to a vacation. Sometimes having witchy powers was more work than it was worth. Sure, she managed to conjure up enough money to support herself. She even managed to use her powers for the benefit of others from time to time, and that felt good. But for the most part, doing magic was exhausting.
A break w
ould be nice. She’d left it all at home: the broomstick, cauldron, and her spell book. Instead of these belongings, she’d used every inch of her suitcase for more practical items: sunscreen, costume jewelry, hair curlers, and a pile of interior design magazines; one had to have reading material for the poolside.
Speaking of poolside… “Shall we go check out the pool deck?” Lorna asked her companion.
Betty had her compact suitcase up on one of the queen-sized beds. She was burrowing through it, searching for an item by feel. “Ah ha!” she cried triumphantly.
In her hand was a large white sun hat, printed with fuchsia Hawaiian flowers. Betty pulled it over her head, looking very pleased with herself.
“Where in the world did you get that?” Lorna asked. She’d never seen Betty wear it before.
“Oh, I have my ways,” Betty said vaguely. “Now, for my suit.” She began rummaging in the suitcase again.
Lorna took this to mean that Betty was up for a trip to the pool, and she began searching for her own suit.
In no time, the two women had changed, found their way up to the deck, and located two seats that would become their regular spots for the rest of the trip. Each chair, in fact, would come to have little indents precisely in the shape of the women’s unique bottoms.
Lorna felt as though she was in heaven. “The view is astounding!” she gushed. The chair wasn’t broken in just yet, so Lorna had to squirm around in it as she settled in. She peered over the black, polarized lenses of her sunglasses—which she hadn’t even taken out of their drawer since that one day months ago when the sun had peaked through parted clouds for an hour or so.
It was a top-notch view. In addition to the receding harbor, Lorna could see water so blue that it looked like an idyllic picture of the ocean one might see on a postcard. The surface of the picture-perfect water danced with little diamonds of reflected light. It almost looked like the waves were coated in fairy dust. “It’s divine! One of God’s masterpieces,” she said.
Lorna looked around the pool area to take in the sights. In front of them, the crystal-clear pool water looked cool and inviting. Just beyond the pool area, Lorna saw two full-sized tennis courts. On one of the courts, a man was practicing his serve.
A Witch On The High Seas - A Paranormal Cozy Mystery (Merryweather Mysteries Book 2) Page 2
