by steve higgs
That was a question I could answer, ‘Yes.’
He nodded, deep in thought. ‘Then I shall insist the cruise line waive the cost of the trip and reimburse you in full. I hope you are better able to enjoy the next three months more peacefully.’
His generosity came as a shock, but I had to concede that I deserved it. What I said though was, ‘Thank you, captain. I intend to get off in St Kitts though and return to England. I have some things to work out with my husband.’
He tilted his head in acknowledgement. ‘If you change your mind…’
While I considered the option that I had just been offered, another crewman in white uniform arrived. He addressed the captain, ‘Begging your pardon, sir. A message from the doctor. Mr Lawrence is awake.’
Unexpected Bonus
Samuel Lawrence had his head wrapped in a thick bandage where Mr Schooner’s goons had tried to crack it open. One eye was swollen shut but he smiled when we walked in.
‘I believe you have good news for me, captain. I understand the sapphire has been recovered.’ He was sitting up in bed with a pillow supporting his back and a book in his lap. I couldn’t see what the book was and refrained from indulging my curiosity by tilting my head to read it upside down.
‘That would appear to be the case, Mr Lawrence,’ replied the captain. ‘It was found in the cabin of my First Officer. You have this lady to thank. Her tenacity unravelled the mystery and revealed that my own number two was behind the recent murders and indeed the attack on you.’
‘I would never have guessed it,’ Samuel admitted glumly. ‘I thought Mr Schooner was operating with the best interests of justice, and I was the fool feeding him all the information he needed to steal the jewel for himself.’
‘What will happen to it now?’ I asked.
‘The sapphire?’ Samuel confirmed. ‘It belongs to the Maharaja of Zangrabar, but was stolen from the New York Geological Society and Axiz Insurance Brokers paid out when it was stolen and not recovered, so technically they own it although I am sure the Maharaja will be willing to pay to get it back from them.’
‘As I understand it, Mr Lawrence, there is a substantial reward for its return.’
‘That’s correct,’ Samuel replied cautiously.
‘And it was Mrs Fisher that recovered it,’ the captain continued, ‘so I believe the reward is hers, yes?’
My pulse beat a hard staccato at the news. I had no idea there was any kind of a reward. What exactly did substantial mean?
‘Eh, no, I don’t think so,’ said Samuel sternly.
The captain leaned forward, ‘Let me put it this way, Mr Lawrence; either Mrs Fisher gets the reward, or you don’t get the sapphire back.’
‘Now see here!’ snapped Samuel, his temperature rising.
The captain straightened and turned to face me. ‘Perhaps, Mrs Fisher, we should return later. You undoubtedly wish to return to your suite and prepare for the day. I believe you said you had to skip breakfast.’
I looked down at myself; I was still in my pyjamas. ‘Yes, I suppose I should probably get changed.’ Then we left the still protesting Samuel Lawrence behind as the ever gallant captain escorted me back to the Windsor Suite where my butler, Jermaine, was already laying out clothes for my day.
Today was going to be very different to any since I had come aboard. I felt buoyant, light as a feather and for the first time since I could remember, I had options. I was going to go shopping for new clothes, get a proper makeover in one of the many boutiques and if I could do it without Barbie catching me, I was going to have a glass of champagne.
Reunited?
For the first time since I came on board, I woke up feeling relaxed. There was no longer a great weight hanging over my head. I was free and Mr Schooner was going to jail along with his goons. It was my fifth day on board and had been set to be my last. Now I had the option of staying on board to continue my trip and could bring Charlie on board with me. Yesterday afternoon, when I had calmed down after the excitement of the morning and had time to eat and relax and had finally been given my phone back, I had called him.
He had been very pleased to hear my voice and very concerned that he hadn’t heard from me for three days. I must report that he did manage to refrain from snapping at me when he pointed out that he had called me many, many times and left lots of messages both in text and voicemail form. It was the sort of short-tempered behaviour he might have displayed had he not recently been caught sleeping with my best friend and knew he was about as in the wrong as he could be.
I was polite on the phone though I avoided giving him all the details of the last few days. I simply said I had not been able to fly home from Madeira and that I would be arriving in St Kitts in roughly eighteen hours where the ship was stopping for two days. My plan was still to leave the boat and fly home, but I still hadn’t arranged a flight (because I had been afforded no opportunity to do so).
To my surprise, he said that he had been checking flights and had booked himself a flight to St Kitts when he surmised that I hadn’t left the ship in Madeira as I had suggested I would. He was actually getting on a flight. He was that desperate to see me and begin making amends.
I allowed him to apologise several more times before I grew bored of hearing it, in the end snapping, ‘If you are so sorry, Charlie, perhaps you should have considered the likely result of your actions before you decided to cheat.’ I had probably never spoken to him like that in the thirty years we had been together.
It was clear that I had surprised him from the silence at the other end. ‘Yes, Patricia,’ he said when he found his voice. ‘I am sure I deserve that.’
‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘You do.’
‘Patricia, you sound different,’ he observed. I couldn’t get that sentence out of my head for quite a while after the call ended. I was different. I felt different. I was acting differently. In the space of a week, well, less than a week actually, I had gone from bored middle-aged housewife with a job cleaning the homes of people with more interesting lives, to the woman staying in the best suite of the world’s best cruise ship and I had money to spare. On top of being given a refund for my around the world trip, I had then been informed that the reward for the safe return of the sapphire was half a million US dollars. I had almost fainted when the captain told me. Though I knew there were people on the planet that would consider it to be an insignificant sum, it was a fortune to me.
It took more than an hour before I came to my senses and insisted that the sum be split with Samuel Lawrence. Even though he was a slimy git, he had to be credited with bringing my attention to the jewel. Had it not been for him, I might never have worked it out. I also set aside a portion of the money for Jermaine and Barbie. They both fought me and refused to accept it, but I insisted nevertheless, convincing them both that I would not feel comfortable keeping it all when I would be in a jail cell right now were it not for their efforts. Even giving away over half of the money, I still had more than enough; I was rich. I could get giddy thinking about it. Laying in bed, I stretched in place, wriggling around under the giant duvet while trying to make sense of all that had transpired in the last week. My life was somehow unrecognisable in comparison. How much had I changed with it? Last night I had been looking at myself in the mirror wondering if I could detect a slimming around my waist. I had told myself I was being ridiculous, but my diet had been free of the usual processed foods I ate, water had replaced alcohol and sugar-filled coffee, and I had actually exercised. If a raised pulse helped to burn fat, then with all the drama and excitement I ought to have lost twenty pounds.
Thinking about it though, weight loss wasn’t really the goal; it was a consequence. Yes, it wouldn’t hurt to lose a few pounds, but actually, I wasn’t trying to please anyone but myself. Eating healthier food and drinking water since coming aboard were conscious choices, the result of which was a feeling of improved health. That was just diet though as opposed to dieting. I felt stronger and more confident, my inner
strength, the thing Barbie had alluded to, evident in everything I was doing.
With a smile that my life was turning a corner and that I would soon be reunited with an apologetic Charlie, I flung off the covers and went looking for my sports gear. I was going to go for a jog around the sun deck and I was genuinely looking forward to it.
Outside, the glorious early morning sun was sparkling on the wave tips and a warm breeze ruffled my hair, carrying the scent of the sea and… hope? Hope was something I hadn’t felt a few days ago. When I came on board, I felt despair. I had been lost, but though it sounded like a cliché, this had truly been a voyage of personal discovery.
I took ten laps of the sun deck, my pace slow but even. With each lap the mighty ship drew closer to the island ahead of us. St Kitts, the sort of place I thought I would never visit. If I invited Charlie to join me on a free around the world cruise would he do so? Would he enjoy it if he did? I frowned as I ran. Jermaine was in my suite right now packing my belongings back into my old, cheap suitcases.
On my ninth lap, I was starting to feel that I had done enough, and I was just about to pass the door that was closest to my suite when Barbie appeared. In her usual uniform of skin-tight Lycra, she looked as youthful and perfect as always. The only indication that she was a crew member was the badge pinned just above her right breast.
‘Hi, Patty,’ she waved a good morning.
I slowed and jogged in place. I was a little out of breath but managed to say, ‘Good morning, Barbie.’
‘I wondered if you wanted to weigh yourself this morning? We should chart your progress and it is obvious that you are losing weight.’
‘Really?’ I did feel thinner.
Barbie nodded with an encouraging smile. ‘Shall we?’
I held up a finger, ‘One more lap.’
She whooped in response as I set off for one more lap. The ship was almost in the dock, the process of coming alongside with such a huge vessel, a very slow and deliberate thing.
Ten minutes later, Barbie escorted me into the gym where we repeated the process of measuring around my thighs and belly and other places. She used the callipers on my belly fat once more, making a note on a tablet as she did and then I stepped onto the scales.
I had lost eight pounds! In five days, I had lost eight pounds. For the last two decades my weight had only moved in one direction. My past attempts to halt the process never lasted long. Over time I had come to think of the pounds I dropped as not actually lost, more accurately they had gone away to fetch reinforcements.
As I stepped off the scales, I wrapped Barbie into a hug, saying, ‘Thank you.’ I was caught up in a feeling of elation that I was trying to quell. In that moment, I understood that losing weight or not was a choice I could make, but it wasn’t something I had to do. Instead, what I had needed was to find the beauty within myself and not allow the world to shackle me with a pattern I didn’t fit. I was middle-aged and suddenly I was happy to be me, extra pounds or not.
As we parted, she asked, ‘What are your plans for the day?’
‘My husband is meeting me. He should be on the dock waiting for me when we arrive.’
Barbie’s brow was knitted in confusion. ‘Your husband that cheated on you with your best friend?’
I nodded, sad and embarrassed by the truth of it. ‘Yes, that one. He says he is very sorry and just wants to go back to how things were.’
She pursed her lips, thinking. ‘I know I have only known you for a few days but you are a strong woman, Patricia. I pushed you in the gym because I wanted to find your limit; you don’t seem to have one. All the things you have done since you came on board; solving a thirty-year-old crime, solving the murders and dealing with the accusations. I couldn’t have done that. It’s not my place to say, but once a cheater, always a cheater and I feel that you deserve better.’
Barbie made some valid points, ones I had already partly acknowledged to myself. And her point about Charlie; I knew I had repeated the same cliché to other women at different points in the past and to myself this week. Was my Charlie any different? I was in St Kitts though and the two of us could spend the day talking and patching things up. I had money, so I could do almost whatever I wanted. Perhaps today I would just be a tourist. There were guided trips the shipping line arranged that I had overheard other guests talking about last night. I could ask Jermaine about those.
With the weigh in done, I wandered back to my suite in quiet reflection, my steps light though, as if there was now less holding me down. Of course, there was less holding me down, eight pounds less, but it wasn’t just that. The old version of me was being replaced by a new one. My confidence was soaring, I felt strong and capable and for the first time in as long as I could remember, I felt hope.
After breakfast and dressed in a new short summer dress I had treated myself to from a luxury boutique on the next deck, new strappy sandals and a new wide-rimmed hat to keep off the sun, I was allowing the captain to escort me down to the royal suites exit. I wanted to look good when Charlie saw me and if he happened to catch a glimpse of me with a very good-looking younger man on my arm then I doubted it would do any harm to make him jealous. I had elected to leave my luggage in the suite for now and see what Charlie wanted to do. I saw no sense in taking my luggage down to the dock as there was a chance he would agree to come on the cruise with me.
On the way down, the captain made polite conversation, this time telling me all about the Island of St Kitts, its history, the currency, the national bird. He could have been making most of it up for all I knew, but he was easy to listen to.
The short passage that led from the elevators to the exit from the side of the ship was filled with bright sunlight. The captain squinted against it as I fumbled in my bag for a pair of sunglasses. They were an old, cheap pair I had carried around for years. One of the arms was a little wonky. Looking at them, I decided it was time to buy a new pair. They would do for now though, so I slipped them on with my left hand as we reached the gangplank, since my right arm was still looped through the captain’s.
Outside the ship, I had a spectacular view of the shore and the hotels that bordered it. Green hills stretched into the distance where the highest trees kissed the deep blue sky. At the bottom of the gangplank were uniformed security, but in contrast to the surly sneers I had received all week, both men were smiling as they bid me good morning and welcomed me to St Kitts.
Beyond them, lots of other guests were already ashore and mingling with the street sellers vending artisan textiles, paintings and jewellery among other things. Were they always here ready to sell or did they see the great ships approaching on the horizon and run to meet them? Whatever the answer, they were pushy and determined and being held back by a barrier rope erected by the ship’s crew. Charlie would be there somewhere, but I couldn’t see him yet.
As I bid the captain a good day and set off toward the line of taxis behind the street vendors, he said, ‘You won’t need a taxi, Mrs Fisher. There is a limousine waiting to take you wherever you wish to go.’ I looked at him in puzzlement. ‘It’s part of the royal suites package, Mrs Fisher. Have a good day.’ Sure enough, a long, sleek, black limousine was gliding toward me along the dock.
Then, as a lady selling hats moved, her arms filled with them and held up for people to see, I spotted Charlie in the gap she left. He was looking right at me, but he didn’t recognise the lady he was looking at. I was slimmer, I was more confident, and I was dressed very differently to my usual attire.
In that moment, looking at him and waiting for my heartrate to soar in elation, I realised nothing was happening. I was looking not at my husband, my dear beloved Charlie, but at a man that had done me harm. I should be feeling joy upon seeing him. The last five days were the longest we had been apart in the last thirty years, however, if anything, I felt disappointment.
I was disappointed to see him. If I went to him now, we would spend the day going over why he had felt the need to cheat on me with my b
est friend, how he had ruined so many stable elements of my life, and how it was that we might hope to patch it up.
A man in the splendid white uniform of the Purple Star Cruise Lines was poised to open the door of the black limousine for me just a few feet away. I turned on my heel, smiling at the man as he swung the door open for me to slide into the cool, airconditioned interior.
The driver looked up to make eye contact via his rear-view mirror, his dark tan face cleanly shaven except for a large, but well-trimmed mustache. ‘Good morning, madam,’ he said with a heavy Caribbean accent.
‘Good morning,’ I replied.
‘Where would Madam like to go, please?’ He held an easy smile that made me believe he was utterly content in his life, something I felt was worth aiming for.
‘I think perhaps, I would like to explore. Where can I get the best lobster on the island? Please take me there.’
As I relaxed back into the sumptuous leather, he touched the brim of his chauffeur’s peaked hat and pulled slowly away. I was leaving Charlie behind me in every sense of the word. There was a whole world waiting for me.
The End
Don’t miss the extract from The Kidnapped Bride – Patricia Fisher’s next adventure. Its just a few pages down.
Note from the author:
I hope that you enjoyed Patricia’s first story. There are many more to come and you can access those that are already published easily by clicking the links below.
I have one final request before I leave you with the first chapter of the next book: I am a self-published author and as such do not have the financial backing to put an ad in a national paper or magazine as James Patterson might, so one of my best tools for attracting new readers is reviews from those that have already read and enjoyed the book.
If you can spare me just a few moments, please click the link below and leave a few words of wisdom so prospective readers can better understand if they will enjoy this book or not. Many thanks in advance. Here’s the link: The Missing Sapphire of Zangrabar
