Louisa Elliott

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Louisa Elliott Page 79

by Ann Victoria Roberts

Watching her rounding the opposite corner, he was intrigued. He had seen her standing there, watching the mist curl across the Minster roof, as fascinated by the evening’s freak weather conditions as he was himself. Others had paused briefly and then walked on, but she had been watching for several minutes, and seemed unnerved as she returned.

  Amused by his own fancies, Stephen crossed over and headed for home. A moment later he was climbing the stairs to his own flat in Bedern. Glancing at the time, he stacked his purchases on the kitchen table, knowing he would have to hurry to finish his packing. He had an appointment for dinner with friends at Strensall.

  He picked up the phone, calling first an old acquaintance with whom he usually left his car when going away, and with arrangements made for its collection, dialled his sister’s number in Harrogate.

  Assuring Pamela that he was packed and ready to leave in the morning, he repeated his destination, gave her the ship’s name and said no, he was not at all sure where he would be over the festive season.

  ‘It might well be West Africa, since the ship’s been on that run for a while, but it’s impossible to say for sure. From Philly we could go anywhere – it depends on the charterers, and the price of oil…’

  Suppressing a sigh, Stephen listened impatiently while his sister repeated her usual exhortations regarding correspondence and healthy eating. In his opinion, a contradiction in terms when applied to most of what came out of a ship’s galley. But to point out what she knew already was a waste of time. When she launched into the subject of sexually-transmitted diseases, however, Stephen held the receiver away from him, staring at it in disbelief.

  ‘For God’s sake, Pam,’ he interrupted sharply, ‘I’m thirty-six, not sixteen! And if you’d seen what I’ve seen in almost twenty years at sea, you’d realize this conversation is totally unnecessary… Yes, I know you only have my best interests at heart,’ he conceded, glancing at his watch, ‘but I do keep abreast of current affairs, I’ve heard about AIDS, and believe it or not, I do know what condoms are for!’

  His blunt sarcasm prompted outrage from his sister. When her voice had settled to a bearable level, he said, ‘Look, Pam, I’m going away in the morning. I might not be back for six months. Let’s part friends, shall we?’

  Reluctantly she gave her assent. He visualised her mouth, tight with disapproval, and wondered whom she resembled. Certainly no one in the immediate family. But having soothed her ruffled feathers he was able to end the conversation and rescue his underwear from the tumble-drier. Adding those final items to his suitcase, Stephen ironed a couple of shirts, then went to shower and shave.

  Twenty minutes later he was backing his Jaguar XJ-S from its garage and wondering how soon he could decently say his farewells and return for a good night’s sleep. By six in the morning he must be on his way to Philadelphia, and by this time tomorrow he would be taking over command of the 120,000 tonne tanker, MV Nordic.

 

 

 


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