by steve higgs
The door to my suite was open and he was guiding me inside. My luggage was already stacked neatly on a low table clearly designed for unpacking. However, as I took in my palatial surroundings and tried to answer his question, that was when I elected to dissolve completely.
‘No,’ I sobbed, the words coming out distorted as I began bawling. He was trying to free himself of me, no doubt he had other duties to attend to, but he was the rock I was clinging to, metaphorically and physically as I wrapped him into a hug and leaked saline into the pristine white cotton of his uniform. ‘My husband cheated on me,’ I managed between wracking sobs.
I heard another person enter the room and could feel the captain gesticulating instructions rather than speaking. I felt sorry for the man, but I couldn’t let him go for fear I would plummet into a chasm of grief I would never climb out of by myself.
A hand touched my arm. The new person wanted my attention. My eyes were squeezed shut, but I opened them now to see who it was. A young man of mixed race with a kindly face was looking back at me and I realised how mental I must look. I had the poor captain locked in a bear hug, my arms around his back to hold on while his hands and arms were trying not to touch me. He was leaning away even as I was leaning into him.
‘Sorry,’ I sobbed. I let him go, almost collapsing when my legs disagreed with the request to support me. The young man caught me, a gentle arm going around my waist.
‘Let’s settle you on the bed, madam,’ he said, his tone soothing, his voice a little effeminate but carrying a perfect English upper-class accent.
In the distance I heard the captain’s voice, ‘Madam, I’m afraid I have other duties to attend to. I must leave now, but I leave you in the very capable hands of your butler, Jermaine. He will see to all of your needs.’
I blinked through the tears as I looked at his face, ‘Butler?’
‘Of course, madam, all our royal suites have a live-in butler in an adjoining cabin.’ He apologised again, then escaped while he could. I didn’t blame him, but the embarrassment I felt only added to the crushing burden of negative emotions engulfing me. I turned to the younger man, knowing that I looked a fright but unable to do anything about it. In the next minute, he helped me onto the bed where I continued to bawl wordlessly while he closed curtains and turned on table lamps to make the room dark but not black. Then the young man knelt at the side of the bed and took my hand. ‘Now, why don’t you tell Jermaine all about it and let’s see if we can’t work this out together.’
I let my gaze find his face. It was fixed with an encouraging smile that made me want to trust him. On a random Tuesday in June, on board the world’s largest ocean liner in their most fabulous suite, I poured out my heart to a total stranger. I cried and I cried and I cried, my throat aching from the effort of it and eventually I slept.
Exploring
I slept fitfully, a violent dream I instantly forgot causing me to wake as I thrashed against an imagined force. Beside my bed was a pitcher of water, condensation running down it told me it was cold. I sat up and poured a glass. It was refreshing but it wasn’t what I wanted. Now that I was awake, all the misery of my life was back and I wanted to drown it with alcohol.
I needed to get up, not least because I needed the bathroom. I was hungry also, but in wondering where I could find a restaurant and what food they might serve, I remembered that I had a butler. The concept made the earth tilt beneath my feet.
I had a butler. His sole job was to make my life a pleasure.
My suite consisted of eight rooms and was bigger than my house. Jermaine’s quarters were located in an annex to my kitchen and contained laundry facilities and such like, so that he was never far away and always available.
I loved Jermaine already. He had held my hand as I talked and sobbed and sobbed and talked and had told me to, “Not be shedding no tears for no man,” somehow delivering a colloquial sentence in his upper-crust voice. I knew he was right, but once the tears had started flowing, I had found it hard to switch them off.
I had been blurting out my thoughts to him as if we were old friends. Telling the poor man about how my husband and I hardly ever had sex any more and when we did it was clear he wasn’t excited at the prospect. I told him about Maggie and her trim waist compared to mine and how I really needed to lose weight on this trip so I could win him back, and then got onto the subject of how much money I had just spent on this silly, ridiculously expensive and indulgent room.
‘Don’t you worry, madam,’ he had soothed me, ‘all these things can be corrected.’ Jermaine explained that we were stopping at Madeira in two days and in St Kitts three days after that. I could disembark at either place but was more likely to find a flight from St Kitts since I had barely any time to arrange one from Madeira. I could fly home and I would be given a partial refund that would be equivalent to roughly ninety percent of the amount I had spent less the cost of my initial five days. It was a huge relief. Jermaine also promised to introduce me to his friend Barbie who was a physical training instructor in the upper-deck gym. She would help me shed a few pounds while I was on board if that was truly what I wanted.
He made it all sound so easy. Eventually, the emotional roller-coaster caught up with me and I had crashed into a deep sleep. While I was undoubtedly snoring like a warthog, he had unpacked and ironed my clothes, organised my jewellery and made the suitcases disappear. During my stay he would ensure my room was kept clean, though it wasn’t his job to clean it, he would bring me whatever I needed and act as my guide if I wanted. Anything I needed him to do, probably up to and including wiping my bottom, was in his job description.
At some point while I was sleeping, the ship had set sail. I could feel a faint vibration in my feet when I forced myself off the bed, whose covers I had never made it beneath, and decided my grief wasn’t going to get me anywhere. I had to get my life in order. I was on this ship now and there was no option to get off for the next couple of days. I would turn things around, arrange to get off at Madeira or St Kitts and fly home. There I would find Charlie full of apology and we would talk things through. I still couldn’t decide if I shared the blame for his infidelity, whether I had driven him to it, but I was his wife and we would find our way through it. In the meantime, I would eat sensibly and lose some of the unwelcome weight I had gained.
I found a bathroom, the haggard woman looking back at me from the mirror was not a welcome sight. No one should have to look at that. It was another thing I was going to have to fix. I had money in my account. I could get a tan and buy some makeup and spend some on better clothes.
An hour later, I had bathed and dressed and done my best to find an outfit choice that didn’t look like I was going to the supermarket. I was getting hungry as I hadn’t eaten since breakfast some eleven hours ago, though I had found a fruit bowl in the room and eaten a banana. I was certain they would have something healthy for me to eat here. Perhaps some poached fish or a salad would suffice.
Though I was slightly concerned I would lose myself and need to find a guide to get back to my suite, I set off to find a bar and restaurant. It didn’t take long. The moment I stepped outside, the delicious aroma of exquisite food assailed my nostrils. My stomach gave a meaningful growl.
‘Can I help you, madam?’ asked a man in a blue uniform. He wore the same dusty yellow around his neck that Bianca and Marie had, but his was a tie. He was spotless and immaculate just like all the other crew I had seen.
‘I’m looking for a restaurant?’ I answered, making my reply a question.
He smiled in return, ‘Follow me please.’
He led me around a corner, the sound of chatter now audible as he walked me through a mighty pair of ornate double doors. They had opened automatically I thought but passing through them I discovered a pair of young men holding them open. This place was so swanky they had two men employed just to open and close the doors.
‘Would you like to be seated for dinner now, madam, or will you be taking a drink at
the bar first?’
We were heading toward a man that I took to be the Maître d’. He was dressed in… I didn’t know what it was actually called but he looked like he should be serving food at Downton Abbey. His white jacket ended near his knees at the back in what I think are called tails.
I gulped. I felt so out of place. I was convinced that everyone was looking at me, judging me and wondering what I was doing in their exclusive club. However, when I worked up the courage to look about the room, I saw no eyes on me. Even so, it did little to calm the rising unrest I felt.
‘I think a drink might be necessary,’ I croaked, my voice coming out as little more than a whisper.
‘Very good, madam,’ he replied. As we passed by the Maître d’, my guide quickly introduced him as Frederick and explained to him that I was the guest staying in the Windsor Suite. He didn’t slow his pace, but I caught an appreciative nod from the man as if the name of my cabin meant something.
Across the restaurant, we arrived at the bar and once again I had to swallow hard as I took in how grand it was. All the men were wearing suits and ties, all the ladies were in cocktail dresses, and I was the plainest person in the room. I wasn’t the only person without a partner though. Directly in front of me was an old man. He was sitting on a bar stool with his thin legs dangling. He peered down his nose at a cocktail menu, struggling with his bi-focals perhaps. Beyond him a pretty girl in her early twenties waited patiently for his order and beyond her was a range of gins that would rival anywhere on the planet.
Finally, I felt at home.
‘I’ll leave you with Vanessa,’ my escort said. ‘When you are ready to eat, just let her know and Frederick will come to you.’
‘Thank you,’ I replied, my eyes mostly on the bottles behind the bar.
He said, ‘Have a good evening, madam.’ I turned to say something in reply, but he was already gone, weaving his way back through the room. Another member of staff making me feel like royalty.
As I took the seat next to the old man, he looked up at me, ‘Good evening,’ he said. He was looking over the top of his glasses now, smiling at me politely. He might be eighty years old or possibly older, it was hard to tell, but he had the slightly withered look that many people get as they age. Fading away gracefully, his suit had a neat waistcoat and a chain that led from one pocket to the button in the middle and then to the pocket on the other side where I assumed I would find a watch. He still had hair on his scalp, mostly white and a bit wispy, but it was combed neatly to the right in a style he might have been keeping for fifty years or more.
‘Hello,’ I replied with a smile of my own. ‘Do you mind if I join you?’
He smiled up at me confused, then his attention swung to the left before he could answer me, and his elderly wife appeared by my shoulder. Wordlessly, he stood up and went with her arm in arm to their table, never giving me a second glance. Glumly, I settled onto the nearest bar stool.
I glanced down at my hand. I had taken off my rings and dumped them in my purse; my left hand now looking odd without the trio of engagement, wedding, and eternity rings I had worn for so many years. An obvious band of pale and smooth skin was visible. It sent a skitter of worry through me that I now looked like a cheating wife out to pick up a man for the night. Nothing could be further from the truth.
I locked eyes with the pretty girl behind the bar. ‘A gin and tonic please. Make it a double and use the Hendricks gin, please,’ my voice came out with steely determination. I might be confused about everything else, but I knew how to drink gin. The diet could spare me one gin and tonic surely. I was certain I had read that it was the lowest calorie alcoholic beverage. Or one of them at least. Vanessa placed a large bulbous glass in front of me filled with gin, tonic, ice and cucumber. I took a mighty slug of it, the powerful botanicals crashing into my taste buds in a kaleidoscope of flavour. I gripped the edge of the bar and stamped my right foot twice in ecstasy. Even if the world was filled with cheating men, I could always rely on gin.
Twenty minutes later and lost in silent contemplation, I had sunk three stiff drinks and was beginning to feel the effects. Sitting at the bar in a funk of my own misery, I was emitting a negative vibe so strong that a space had cleared around me. The two bar stools to my left and right were all empty as those that had approached soon changed their minds and went elsewhere. All the other parts of the bar were filled with patrons.
I knew I needed to get up and get something to eat, my feet were not responding to the messages I sent them though. I would eat (alone), then wander back to my suite (alone) and spend the night in the huge sumptuous bed (alone) before…
‘Would you mind if I joined you?’ I turned to find a man standing next to me at the bar. He was hesitating as if unsure which way I would answer or if I was waiting for someone. He was quite handsome and had broad shoulders that gave him a muscular appearance. I estimated his age to be very late fifties, but he had a good head of thick hair, most of which was grey but still retained his natural dark brown colour in places.
I opened and closed my mouth a couple of times as I tried to form a coherent sentence. Finally, I managed to say, ‘Okay,’ really showing off my dazzling wit.
He signalled for a barperson and settled himself onto the stool next to me. Vanessa arrived, her sweet smile in place. He ordered a beer for himself and before I could protest, he had another gin and tonic placed in front of me.
He put his hand out and said, ‘Jack Langley.’
‘Patricia Fisher,’ I replied. ‘Thank you for the drink.’
He held his glass up and waited for me to raise mine. Seeing no way out, I clinked my drink against his as he said, ‘Cheers,’ with some gusto, ‘You’re new on board, right? Came on today, yes?’
‘Yes.’ I was being cautious but now worried I was bordering on rude. Relenting, I said, ‘It was a spur of the moment thing. I hadn’t really planned it.’ Jack appeared to be by himself and perhaps he just wanted some company. He was being pleasant and not lecherous, not that I had any thought in my head that he might be interested in me, but I decided there was no harm in having a conversation. ‘Have you been on board long?’ I asked.
‘Some months actually. I have become a permanent fixture almost.’
‘Isn’t that expensive?’ I asked. My question was reactive, I hadn’t thought it through first so only once the words had left my mouth did I realise I was now rudely asking about the man’s financial situation. Thankfully there was no one else in earshot, except perhaps for one man, another loner, who had positioned himself at a table near us in the bar. He was very deliberately not looking our way but looked odd because he was wearing his sunglasses still even though he was indoors. I had spotted him reading over the top of them as he perused the bar menu.
My attention came back to Jack as he was speaking again. ‘Well, I’m a retired jewel thief,’ he joked while wiggling his eyebrows at me. ‘I’m sure you will have already heard about my antics stealing ladies jewellery. They seem to be warning everyone as they come on board now. So, with all that I can afford it. How about you? I was passing the Windsor Suite earlier and saw you going into it being escorted by the captain no less.’
‘Yes, like I said, it was a spur of the moment thing. I hadn’t really thought it through. I am planning to get off as soon as I can and fly home.’
‘Really? Well, no time to lose then,’ he said as he upended his glass. ‘You have but a few days to celebrate.’
‘Celebrate what?’ I asked, the misery in my voice obvious to anyone within ear shot. Then to drive the point home, I snapped out, ‘I caught my husband cheating on me with my best friend. I don’t have anything to celebrate.’
‘On the contrary, my dear,’ he countered, raising his hand once more to attract Vanessa. ‘You are either newly single, which is something in itself to celebrate, or you are on a voyage of discovery that is undoubtedly long overdue. If you get off at the first opportunity, will you ever get back on? For the rest of your lif
e you have this one chance to enjoy the absolute luxury of staying in the best room on the biggest ocean liner and all that it has to offer. If you fail to grasp that and wring it for all it is worth, then you will have missed out and the opportunity will be gone.’
His words had some merit to them. The ship had set sail. Did I really want to sulk in my room until we arrived in St Kitts? ‘Okay,’ I said yet again.
‘That’s the spirit.’ Vanessa arrived in front of him. ‘A bottle of Bollinger and two glasses please.’
My eyebrows found their way to the top of my head. I hadn’t drunk much champagne ever and Bollinger had always been out of my price range. Also, the gin was taking hold and if I didn’t eat soon, I would be drunk. ‘I need to eat,’ I announced.
‘I’ll get you a table.’ Vanessa had overheard me while she delivered the champagne and two glasses.
‘Great idea,’ said Jack as he picked up the bottle in one hand and the glasses in the other. Whether I wanted it or not, I had a dinner companion. He wasn’t unpleasant though and Charlie had provided my dinner conversation for thirty years, this might be a refreshing change.
As it turned out, it was. Jack was able to talk with intelligence about the places the Aurelia would stop, explaining in detail about some of the amazing places he had discovered. After a while though I realised he was telling me nothing about himself and any questions I posed were deflected by the same joke about being a jewel thief.
I had already asked how long he had been on board twice, so I tried a different approach and asked how long he planned to continue cruising.
‘Forever perhaps. There’s no extradition from a ship and I am still wanted in several countries. Even when we dock in, say America, where they most definitely want to arrest me, I am safe as long as I stay on board the ship. Only when I go ashore can I be arrested.’ I was starting to wonder if he was joking or not. The only personal fact he provided was his place of birth in Brooklyn, New York. His accent would have given it away so perhaps he wasn’t telling me anything after all. He distracted me from revealing anything further by asking me questions instead. The first was the most obvious one to ask since I had already revealed the events that had led me here. His prying was done gently though, enquiring whether I wanted to talk about it, rather than asking what had happened directly.
