by Dawn Brookes
I should have trusted my gut. There’s something rotten about that girl – Africa or no Africa.
After getting back to her room, Sarah rang Rachel to arrange to meet up for tea this afternoon, deciding not to mention the Bernard thing at present. It wasn’t her secret to tell.
On arrival at the medical centre, she spotted Lauren sitting with Graham and Gwen as bold as brass, chatting and drinking coffee.
“Sarah, good morning.” Graham smiled. “I’ve let Alex go to get some sleep. He was up all night with a rowdy group of rugby players on holiday. They played rugby on the lido deck and one of them almost drowned! Idiots – three of them slipped and needed glueing, and one of them broke his arm rugby tackling a security officer sent to break up the party. Our security officer is no rugby player, but he’s built like a battering ram.”
“Oh poor boy, and poor Alex!”
“Indeed!” Gwen laughed. “Graham lets him loose on passengers rather than crew for a change, and this happens.”
“Still, rather him than me! I’ll do passenger surgery and you can cover crew, but call me if you need my help,” said Graham, heading to the first clinic room.
“You’re with me,” Sarah snarled at Lauren.
“Oh, but I’m meant to be working with Bernard.”
“Bernard’s busy so I said I’d take you today, and tomorrow, you’re working alone, with support.”
Gwen looked at Sarah, shocked at her tone. Picking up something was amiss, she intervened.
“That’s a superb idea, Lauren. You’ll benefit from working with each member of the team so you get a feel for how we all operate. So that’s settled, then.”
Sarah smiled, gloating and fist-pumping in her head. Gotcha! Lauren glared at her, but had no choice but to follow Sarah into the clinic room.
The morning wasn’t easy with a sulking assistant, but they were too busy for Lauren to give Sarah much trouble. The brooding Lauren could do her job like a sensible professional or be difficult. Sarah didn’t care either way.
After surgery, Graham had passenger visits to attend to. Sarah would have liked to accompany him herself, but she didn’t want to let Lauren get away. However, she needed to check how Bernard was because he was avoiding the medical centre.
“I’m sure Lauren would enjoy shadowing you with the passengers,” Sarah suggested to Graham while they were having coffee.
“Excellent idea. Come on, Lauren. Time to work with the big chief.” He was in surprisingly good humour, considering the events of the day before. Lauren followed him out, scowling and shooting daggers at Sarah.
As soon as they left, Gwen turned to Sarah.
“Are you going to tell me what that was all about?”
“Would you mind if I track Bernard down first?”
“No need, here he is.”
Bernard rolled in, still looking tired, but at least he was forcing a smile.
“Well?” Gwen asked.
Looking at Bernard, Sarah spoke. “We need to tell Gwen, Bernard.”
Bernard slumped into a chair. “You tell her please.”
Sarah related the events of last night and this morning, and Gwen listened with the occasional nod of sympathy towards Bernard. Once Sarah had finished, Gwen turned to him.
“Did you tell her it was a one-off?”
He squirmed. “I couldn’t, she’d left, and this was on my bed.” He handed Gwen a note.
Gwen read it out loud, “Thank you for an amazing night – can’t wait for the next time”, peered at Bernard above her spectacles and guffawed, as did Sarah, despite herself.
“An amazing night, eh? Pity you can’t remember it.”
“It’s not funny!” Bernard sounded like a petulant child before smiling sheepishly.
“Your private life is your concern, Bernard, but if this becomes a problem, I need to know. We’re too small a team to have any friction; we have to pull together. Get this resolved quickly. I will not allow an unhealthy working atmosphere. Do you understand?”
He nodded.
“Let her down gently, and then behave as if nothing happened.”
Sarah wondered if that might be easier said than done.
Chapter 15
Rachel had nothing planned for today other than meeting with Sarah at three o’clock at Creams for tea. Mario brought her coffee at 7am as requested, and she had already been for a run on deck sixteen followed by forty-five minutes in the gym.
“Would you like breakfast?” Mario asked.
“No thanks, Mario, I’ll eat in the buffet.”
Once in the buffet, she found an empty table tucked in a corner, away from the crowds, and took out the Russian tour party’s itinerary, mulling things over again. She’d had little time to speak with Sarah, but her friend had told her Jefgeny Popov was still missing and there was a growing concern for his safety. He might have killed his roommate and then thrown himself overboard later that day. Rachel had to agree that seemed the most plausible of explanations. Nevertheless, it didn’t sit well with her for reasons she couldn’t explain.
While she was staring at Thomas’s itinerary, a familiar Jamaican voice singing in the background drew her attention. She recognised the waiter from the previous cruise as they’d often met up during her morning runs. He hadn’t been there this morning, so she’d assumed he’d moved ships, but here he was at her table, large as life, smiling with a gold tooth taking pride of place instead of an upper molar.
“Good morning, ma’am. Can I get you tea or coffee?” He didn’t seem to recognise her at first, and then he said, “Didn’t we meet last year – I never forget a beautiful face?”
“Yes we did, on my early morning runs. I didn’t see you this morning, though.”
“That’s right – we did. I’ve got a calf injury so my running days are on hold. I do weights now so I might catch you in the gym.”
“Yes, I’m sure you might.”
“What can I get for you on this fine morning?”
“Coffee please.”
He poured her coffee and then continued to the next table, singing a few lines from Summer Holiday on his way. The waiter had extended his song repertoire since the last time they’d met, but he looked as skinny as ever, although more bulky around the arms and chest from his weight training. His dreadlocks had colourful braids running through them and were tied up in a ponytail.
This is what she loved about the buffet: the casual atmosphere was in stark contrast to the formality of the main restaurant where she ate her dinner each evening. Tonight was a designated formal evening where the captain and his officers met with passengers. Men would don tuxedos with a bow or black tie, while women would wear evening or cocktail dresses. Rachel appreciated the opportunity to glam up in a way she rarely experienced on land.
After a few sips of coffee, her attention returned to the itinerary in her hand. It listed many activities, including gaming lessons in the casino, sports trivia in one of the lounges, yoga, cha-cha lessons in the ballroom – which she decided to give a miss – and many others.
Rachel chose a wine tasting lesson at midday, thinking she might learn something. She had no clear plan, but the itinerary helped pass the time during sea days, and she liked Thomas. She hoped there wouldn’t be anything to discover and the matter of Jefgeny and Erik would be a neat, albeit tragic, murder/suicide. This would be preferable to a murderer running loose on the ship – again.
Staff had cordoned a small area of the wine bar off for the wine tasting lesson. Thomas stood in the centre, armed with his usual clipboard, and beamed.
“Rachel, it’s great you came. Please stay with me.” He nodded her a warning towards Nikolai, knowing she wasn’t keen.
Boris and his macho minders, Tweedledee and Tweedledum, sat at one of the tables, along with Nikolai and Vladimir Asimov, his woman hanging on to his arm. Rachel admired the woman’s sultry beauty, hour-glass figure and gorgeous long red hair, which was flowing down her back while enhancing her porcelain-like faci
al features. The woman looked her way and smiled. Embarrassed at being caught staring, Rachel smiled back, and then turned her attention back to Thomas.
“I’m looking forward to this lesson, being a wine lover who doesn’t understand what I’m supposed to be looking for when I’m poured a sample in a restaurant.”
“I’m a scotch man myself, but I like a glass of wine too, and yes, this is one of the more useful sessions. Beats origami!”
Rachel chuckled and took a seat next to Thomas, then looked around, listening in to any conversations held in English. Nikolai looked agitated and stuck like glue to Boris today, whispering in his ear as soon as Asimov moved. They sat two tables ahead of her so she couldn’t make out the words.
“Mr Asimov seems a lot happier today,” Rachel whispered to Thomas.
“He seems much more relaxed when Lucretia is with him. He’s the perfect gentleman then,” Thomas acknowledged.
“Neither is wearing a wedding ring, so I assume they’re not married?”
“No, I heard one of the others saying he had not long since come through a messy divorce that cost him a vast amount of his considerable wealth when they met. I don’t think it will be long, though, he seems besotted.”
“Well I grudgingly admit he seems to be a different person today.”
“She is rather beautiful – a man could go straight looking at you two.” Laughing out loud, causing a few heads to turn their way, Rachel thumped him on the arm. To anyone watching, it would appear they were striking up an early romance, and Rachel played along.
After the wine tasting session, she mingled. The ones she particularly wanted to get a handle on included Boris, Asimov, and the man who’d appeared to be speaking to Jefgeny the day before, but he wasn’t there.
Rachel walked over to Boris, watched by the Tweedle twins. Grinning at her inner joke and ignoring them, she spoke to Boris.
“Thank you for allowing me to gatecrash some of your activities.”
Boris looked a little bit uncomfortable, almost fearful as he looked at the short, stocky minder, Tweedledee. “It is no trouble at all. There is always one of the group who ends up not coming.”
“Nevertheless, I’m grateful. May I buy you a glass of that exquisite wine we just sampled?” Rachel hoped he wouldn’t get the wrong impression, but saw his wedding ring and assumed it would be okay. “Is your wife here? Perhaps I can buy her a drink too?”
“No, she is not here. They base us in America, but I am taking this cruise to conduct some business. When the ship returns to Southampton, we will continue on to the Baltic where the group will leave ship and I will fly back to New York from Russia.” He still looked nervous and kept looking at his minders.
“In that case, it’s just you and me, and as I owe Thomas a drink, I’m sure he’ll join us.” Then she looked at the Tweedle twins. “I’m sure these gentlemen can keep an eye on you from a distance.”
The minders nodded and moved away, resulting in a more relaxed Boris. Rachel called Thomas over, and after buying drinks, found a booth away from prying ears.
“It must be so interesting being a diplomat. Do you like America?”
“It’s alright. I haven’t been stationed there long. Before I lived in Paris; I like France very much.”
“Did you have to move?”
“Mother Russia decides where we should be.” He spat out the words and she exchanged a cursory glance with Thomas, surprised at the venom in Boris’s tone. As if sensing he had spoken out of turn and looking around, he continued. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my country; it’s just that my family had settled in France and my wife and I had to leave our two sons behind as they’d started university. My wife misses them and it makes life difficult.”
“Paris is beautiful,” said Thomas. “I’ve led many tours through the sights of that wonderful city. But I’m sure you and your wife will grow to love New York – there is so much to do there.”
“How long have you known Mr Asimov?” Rachel wanted to move the conversation along, sensing Boris becoming morose.
Boris’s face reddened. “Not long. We have business to conduct, that is all.”
Now that reaction is interesting, thought Rachel, sensing the animosity and confirming her first impressions of Asimov.
Rachel saw Asimov speaking harshly to the Tweedle twins, who were now heading towards their table. Tweedledee spoke.
“Mr Asimov wants to continue with meeting now.”
“Oh let the man finish his drink,” said Thomas, but the minders were unmoved.
“I had better go. Thank you for the drink, Rachel. We will no doubt see you again at some of our other activities.” He rose to leave, shaking Thomas’s hand before the minders flanked him either side.
“That’s an odd way to protect someone,” said Thomas. “Normally the one being protected is in charge, but in that relationship, it seems to be the other way around.”
“Yes, I had the same thought,” remarked Rachel. She needed to find out more about that, but for now she felt hungry.
“You’ve hardly touched your wine, Rachel.”
“I know, I don’t drink that much. Not sure why I bought it. I think I’ll get lunch now. Where are you heading next?”
“I’m lunching with ten of the group in the main restaurant. Tonight I’m accompanying Mr Asimov, Lucretia, Boris, Nikolai and three other ladies for dinner at the captain’s table after the formal evening events are over.”
“Impressive,” she answered. “See you again soon.”
Rachel rose from the booth seat, noting a suggestion that Waverley might want to get a seat at the captain’s table. With luck, he might even wangle Rachel and Sarah in too.
She passed through the main atrium on her way to lunch and watched chefs creating the enormous ice sculptures they would display during the evening. There was a magnificent sculpture of the Empire State Building and an extensive array of other American themed creations, but the one that impressed her the most was the multi-coloured American flag with a ripple effect that made it appear to be blowing in the wind. Red, white and blue ice flowed through it to make it even more realistic, fifty stars representing the number of states in America. It was unsurpassed.
Rachel ate a light lunch in the buffet before heading down to the lido deck, and then walked around the ship for a while, thinking about what little she had discovered so far. A murder had been committed on board the ship and the chief suspect, Jefgeny Popov, was now missing, presumed dead. Some interaction had taken place between the missing man and at least two members of the Russian group. Did this have a bearing on his going missing soon afterwards? She thought it unlikely; he was probably on his way into hiding or suicide when she saw him in the corridor, otherwise he would have been at work in the engine room. That would rule out the Russians being part of a conspiracy.
What of Boris’s reaction today? He obviously didn’t like being part of this group and appeared to be guarded rather than minded. Why would that be? Her gut told her something was amiss, and after the events of the last cruise, she wouldn’t be dissuaded from following the investigation through. She would try to get Waverley to agree to the next stage and see where it led.
She looked at her watch – time to meet up with Sarah.
Chapter 16
Sarah stayed with Bernard after morning surgery, in spite of being off duty. She wanted to make sure he was alright, so she attended a few on-board passenger injuries with him. He brightened up a little as the hours wore on and managed to banter with injured passengers in his usual way.
An elderly man had sprained his wrist while trying out the golf simulator. “I think I put a bit too much wrist into my swing,” he explained.
“Perhaps you should save your strength for lifting cocktails,” Bernard joked, and they immediately hit it off. As Bernard engaged with passengers and crew like his normal self, it seemed to be helping him forget the trauma of his shock awakening. Sarah would be glad once he’d managed to speak with Laure
n and clear the air. Sadly, it wouldn’t undo the faux pas of the previous night, and she worried about how he would live with that.
Gwen had called a team meeting for 1pm and Raggie, the medical team steward, would bring lunch up from the kitchen. Bernard and Sarah headed back down to the medical centre. The arrogant Lauren was already there, along with Graham and Alex. Gwen sat at her desk, while Raggie brought in extra chairs so that they could all sit down.
Gwen kicked the meeting off. “I thought it would be prudent to have a proper meeting as Sarah has now rejoined us and we’ve got a new team member, Lauren Blythe.”
Bernard kept his head down, staring at the floor.
“We also have a number of passengers with long-term conditions, and as it’s only our second sea day, Graham would like to update us on a few of these. I will let him go first, and then he and Alex can carry on with their work while we have a nurse meeting afterwards.”
“Thank you, Gwen,” Graham began. “There are five passengers I would like you to know about in case they call, and there are some I should warn you about, but I’m sure you will suss those out for yourselves!” He laughed. “Lauren, you’re new to the ship so it’s important that you learn and follow ship procedure at all times. If there is anything that you don’t understand, I’m sure that Sister Sumner – Gwen – has already told you to ask. We are all very approachable, but there is a hierarchy on board a cruise ship that you may not be used to.”
Sarah thought Graham sounded niggled about something and wondered if Gwen had filled him in on the Bernard situation, but doubted it. Nevertheless, something had rattled him. She felt curious as to whether she had missed something, but was pretty certain she had been listening. She paid double attention now.
“Of course,” Lauren replied, sullenly.
Graham continued. “We have a seventy-year-old lady in 7160 with chronic obstructive pulmonary disease who carries portable oxygen when out and about on the ship. An oxygen concentrator was delivered to her room on embarkation day.” He turned to Lauren again. “Are you familiar with concentrators?”
