by C. A. Larmer
Groaning, Alicia thrust the pillow over her head and attempted to get back to sleep when an unexpected blaring sound made her jump six feet. Or at least that’s what it felt like.
“What the bloody hell is that?” she yelped.
“Wha’?” That was Lynette, her floppy head barely lifting from her pillow.
The blaring continued. It sounded like a siren.
Alicia sprang to her feet, her thudding head forgotten in the furore. “There must be an emergency. Oh my God. We must be sinking! Lynny? Lynette! We’ve got to get up. Where are the life jackets… Where the hell did they put the life jackets? It’s the Titanic all over again.”
Lynette groaned. “It’s just a drill. Ignore it.”
Alicia grappled for the lamp switch above her bed, pulled it on, and stared at her watch. It was 2:55 a.m. She dashed across to the cabin door, opened it, and peered out, noticing that many others were doing the same as the siren continued to whir, louder now that the door was open.
“What’s going on?” she called out to a man in striped pyjamas, the one she’d seen yesterday in the library. He shrugged back.
“Must be another drill!” a passenger further down called out, but the man was shaking his head furiously.
“No, no, no they never do this! Not at this time, never!” He turned to say something to someone inside his own cabin, then looked back out at Alicia. “We must go up!”
She nodded bleakly and closed her door, noticing that Lynette was still slumped under her blanket. Pulling it off, she gave her sister a shove.
“Come on, woman! Unless you want to be rescued in your silk pyjamas, you’d better get some warm gear on.”
Lynette sat up, squinting into the light. “For goodness’ sake, no one’s being rescued. They’re just punishing us for having too many champagnes last night.” She stumbled off the bed towards her open suitcase, which still had half her clothes strewn inside. “No, wait, that was just you. I was the one putting you to bed before you made a complete and utter fool of yourself. Then I hit the sack early with Agatha.”
She indicated the bookmarked copy of Murder on the Orient Express that was now on her side of the bedside table, and Alicia felt a stab of envy before the wailing of the siren snapped her out of it.
“Come on, woman, get on with it!”
Within minutes they were both dressed in jeans and T-shirts with a jacket on hand should they need to hit the deck. That was Alicia’s idea, of course; she was no longer panicking, but she could still feel a sense of dread as images of thunderous waves kept crashing through her head.
“This had better be the real deal or I will be very cranky!” was Lynette’s take on it all as they followed the startled crowd that was now making its way down the carriageway towards the stairway at the farthest end.
“Should we get the others?” Alicia called out, stopping at Perry’s door and knocking loudly. There was no answer.
“I think they’re up ahead!” Lynette was pointing to the other end of the passage where they could just make out Missy’s bright red hair through the crowd. She looked around then and caught their eye, beaming behind her glasses as she gave them two thumbs up.
As they made their way to the Grand Salon, their appointed ‘Muster Station’, several crew members appeared, most hastily dressed and attempting to look like they were in control, despite the messy hair and the pillow creases down their cheeks.
“This way, please.”
“Nice and calmly.”
“It’s just routine, nothing to worry about.”
Alicia scoffed silently. The tremor in their voices gave the game away. If this was a drill, they’d never done one like it before.
By the time they all assembled in the bar, the passengers had become a boisterous mob. Most now seemed more annoyed than concerned, furious at having their sleep interrupted. That was until Chief Officer Pane appeared. He was flushed and frantically waving his arms about.
It was clear he had a very real emergency on his hands.
“Everyone please, settle down and take a seat if you can find one!” he called out. “We need you all to stay in one place, please, we need to do a head count.”
“Head count?” Lynette echoed, holding on to Alicia as they broke through the crowd to reach Missy and Claire. “Why on earth do they need to do a head count at this hour?”
“It’s the first thing you do in a drill,” replied Claire, who’d clearly taken notes at the first drill. Despite the hour, she was smartly dressed in pleated woollen trousers and a crisp cotton blouse and looked curiously relaxed.
If it really is an emergency, I’m sticking with her, thought Alicia. The woman was unflappable. Alicia noticed she even had a small backpack with her, probably containing lipstick, a hanky, and an inflatable life jacket. She glanced around, looking for Perry. She couldn’t see him anywhere, but she did spot Anders, just briefly, standing with several staff members including the Aussie barman, before he disappeared again.
“Something must have happened,” said Missy. “Maybe there’s stowaways or a problem with the engine?”
The bronzed Dutch couple who had followed them across shared a glance that did not get lost on Alicia.
“What do you think it is?”
“It’s just… well, we do not want to scare you,” the woman began.
“Too late for that. What do you know?”
“We have seen this once before, yes, Gunter?” Her husband looked stone-faced. “The siren, the ship turning back.”
“Turning back?” interrupted Alicia. “What do you mean the ship’s turned back?”
“Did you not feel it?”
She nodded. Yes, she had. She looked out the nearest window, but it was hard to see much in the foggy moonlight, hard to know whether they had changed direction or not. She knew one thing, the ship was slowing down and there was a lot of kerfuffle out there on the deck. Alicia watched as a crewmember dashed past clutching something that looked suspiciously like an orange life buoy.
She felt a cold shiver run down her spine.
As if by some mysterious symbiosis, the passengers appeared to all come to the same conclusion at the same time, and there was a manic surge towards the windows, people leaning over others to get a better view.
That sent Officer Pane into another flap, and he jumped back up on the podium and grappled for the microphone. “Please people!” he boomed. “You must remain still! The head count is not complete! You will disrupt everything!”
Alicia had noticed the staff members who were steadily making their way through the room, mouthing numbers as they passed each passenger, occasionally offering a reassuring smile. She wasn’t falling for it and glanced back at the couple.
“You’re the Groots, right?” They nodded. “So what does it mean when the ship turns back? Why are they doing a head count?”
She already knew the answer, of course, they all did, but it was still a shock when Eva Groot placed a hand at her heart and said, “Some poor soul has gone overboard, what else?”
Chapter 11
“Where’s Perry?”
All Alicia could think about was Perry Gordon, and she stood on her tiptoes trying to see above the crowd, trying to catch a glimpse of the palaeontologist in his ridiculous bright suits and his brilliantly chiselled beard.
The others had caught on and were now doing the same, their heads swinging from left to right.
“He must be here somewhere,” Claire said, unhelpfully.
“Could still be in his cabin?” suggested Missy. “Might have slept through? I had a flatmate once who could sleep through a car alarm. I tell you, that was a very useful trait when you lived in the centre of the city.”
But no one was listening. Both Alicia and Lynette were pushing back through the crowd, stepping over people who had slumped to the floor, and scanning every man in sight, hoping to catch a glimpse of their friend. Eventually they circled back, none the wiser, Missy now mute.
“Find him?�
� Claire asked hopefully, and Alicia shook her head.
“When did we last see him?” Her brain was feeling fuzzy.
“I saw him in the bar last night,” offered Missy. “About elevenish, just before I turned in.”
“I know he was heading for the dance floor when the DJ started, which is around midnight, I think,” added Lynette who recalled lamenting the fact that she would have to escort her sister to bed.
“Yes!” added Claire. “He was definitely still dancing at 12:30 when I took off.”
“I might go back and check the cabin.” It was Alicia now, but Gunter Groot was shaking his head.
“You need to stay,” he said. “They will have checked all the cabins. You will just confuse the count.”
“It could be Dame Dinnegan who’s fallen over, of course,” offered Lynette, trying to be helpful and cringing at herself as she said it.
Alicia cringed too as the prospect flooded her with overwhelming relief which quickly spilled over to guilt. Neither woman wished the elderly lady dead, but they were damned if they were going to lose another book club friend. They began studying the crowd again, this time looking for a woman in a wheelchair, a swarthy man by her side, and for a second Alicia thought she saw them before the masses swallowed them up.
Now it was disappointment that preceded her guilt.
The next heart-wrenching hour felt more like ten as the book club friends tried not to articulate the horror that was in their heads while the other passengers settled into stunned silence. They had all been asked to remain where they were “just for a little longer”, and most had found chairs or were squatting on the carpet.
All annoyance had now been replaced by strangled whispers as they debated what had happened and peered through the misty windows trying to catch a glimpse of the action. Various crewmembers were now picking their way through the crowd, offering blankets, packaged biscuits and bottled water but refusing to answer questions or give any details. Perhaps they didn’t have any. Perhaps they didn’t want to unsettle the horses.
The younger crew looked almost as terrified as the crowd, but the older, more experienced staff seemed resigned to the situation. Like the Groots, they had probably seen it all before.
“You know, I read that more than a dozen people fall off cruise ships around the world every year,” Missy said now, not comprehending how rattling her words could be.
“Well, he’s in good company then,” spat Lynette as she grabbed some biscuits from the passing steward.
Alicia, who was also sitting on the carpeted floor propped up against one wall, gladly accepted a bottle of water and took some much-needed swigs before asking no one in particular, “Where the hell is he?”
The Groots had settled in beside them, and after many long, anxious minutes, Gunter gave the book club friends an encouraging wink. “They have large spotlights, yes? They will find whoever has fallen, you will see.”
It was a comforting thought, but no one really believed that. How anyone could possibly be located in all that water in such utter darkness was beyond them, and each of them now wondered how it must feel to be out there in that endless sea, terrified and struggling to stay afloat.
Alicia looked up with a start, realising that a few other familiar faces were not amongst the crowd, including the Solarno sisters—and there was no way you’d miss those three if they were in the room.
She was about to mention this when Lynette grabbed her arm and said, “Look, there’s Anders again! Alicia, try to grab his attention. He’ll know!”
Alicia had momentarily forgotten about her boyfriend and felt a flush of guilt, but Anders had already spotted her and was making his way over, batting off questions as he went. When he reached them, his lips were set in a grim line.
“Did they find him?” Missy squealed. “Did they find Perry?”
“Perry’s fine, Missy,” he replied, and the three women almost collapsed with relief. He quickly added, “Well, he’s in a bit of shock, of course, but I’ve checked him over and he’ll be okay.”
“Shock? Why?” asked Alicia.
“And who went overboard?” demanded Lynette, but he simply placed a finger to his lips then pointed to the front as another hush swept through the room.
Captain Van Tussi was stepping towards the microphone, and this time he had the crowd’s complete attention. His relaxed smile was nowhere to be seen, and he looked like he had aged ten years overnight. Despite clear protests from several officers beside him, he shook his head and turned to look out at the startled throng.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your patience and my apologies for the inconvenience.” His deep voice was slow and sluggish with emotion, and he paused to take a deep breath. “We have a major emergency on our hands.” He hesitated again, his voice clearly shaking now. “A… a… passenger has gone overboard, and we have been endeavouring to locate her.”
The words set off a fresh ripple through the room, but it did not take long for silence to descend as they awaited his next sentence.
Her, Alicia thought. It had to be the little old lady in the wheelchair.
Voice cracking, the captain cleared his throat and continued. “We have alerted the nearest coast guard, and they will be arriving soon to assume control of the search. For now you are permitted to return to your cabins, and again I apologise for the inconvenience. If you would prefer, we are keeping the bar open and also getting some light refreshments organised in the dining room for those of you who cannot… sleep.” He took another deep breath. “The SS Orient will continue to assist in the search until such time as we are given the all-clear to resume our journey. Your trip will not be inconvenienced I can assure you of that.”
Another gasp went out as people came to terms with the news. While some looked scandalised by the idea they would be resuming the voyage, it was clear many thought it perfectly justifiable, including the Dutch couple beside them.
“For the best,” Alicia heard the man say.
“No point the rest of us ruining our trip,” said his wife. “We paid for our rooms, we must get our money’s worth.”
She wanted to smack them both about the ears with her water bottle but, instead, just turned to Anders with enquiring eyes.
“He’s being stoic,” Anders said.
“Was he very good friends with Dame Dinnegan?” Alicia asked and he looked at her, surprised.
“Dame Dinnegan? Why do you always go on about Dame Dinnegan?”
“Well, isn’t she missing?”
“No, Alicia. It isn’t the Dame who’s gone missing.” He shook his head with disbelief as he added, “It’s the captain’s wife, Corrie. She’s the one who’s fallen over.”
Chapter 12
It’s one thing to lose a stranger overboard, quite another to lose someone you’d met and for most people quite liked, and news of Corrie Van Tussi’s plight silenced almost everybody, including the Groots, who now looked suitably chastened.
Missy’s eyes were gushing tears, which trickled below the frames of her cat’s eye glasses and down her pale cheeks, while both Claire and Lynette held hands to their lips, as though halting an escaping sob.
For her part, Alicia’s head was swirling with emotions—shock, horror, disbelief, guilt. She felt such remorse for the way she had gossiped about the woman, the way she had happily accused her of infidelity. It all seemed so trivial now.
Worse than the emotions were the images, like a YouTube clip playing over and over in her head—Corrie falling over, Corrie smashing into that icy water, Corrie screaming out and knowing that nobody can hear her, knowing that death was inevitable as her husband’s ship sailed off obliviously into the night.
Oh God, the poor woman. How horrendous!
“How can he possibly carry on?” Claire said, her own thoughts on Captain Van Tussi as he slowly made his way back out, his crew forming a guarded escort around him.
“He’s the captain,” Anders replied. “His first duty is to the ship and
the passengers, not to his wife.”
“His wife was a passenger,” Claire snapped back, but he was now watching Alicia.
“Are you okay?” She nodded, trying to shake the images off. “Look, about last night. I’m sorry I missed you, I—”
“Forget about it,” she interrupted him. “That’s not important now, not after what’s happened. How… how did it happen? Do you know?”
“Sort of. Not really. Listen, I’ll explain everything later. I need to go and check on the captain. He’s putting on a good show, but the last thing we need is our chief having a breakdown. I’ll catch up with you later. Oh and Alicia?”
“Yes?”
“We need to talk.”
The look he gave her then was troubling, almost foreboding, and she wanted to reach out to him, but he was already marching across the room and out the door in the direction of the man with the cap on his head and the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“I can’t even get my head around it,” said Missy.
Lucky you, thought Alicia, slumping back to the floor.
“She must have slipped,” suggested Claire, but Dermott was now scoffing. He’d appeared when Anders arrived and caught the last of the conversation, his hand also wedged to his lips.
“Those guardrails are quite high,” he said. “You don’t slip over those unless you’re drunk and trying your luck.”
“Or you get a helping hand,” said another voice.
They looked around to find Billie standing there, her expression bleak.
It was the first they had seen of the Solarno sisters since the ordeal began, and this sister, at least, looked like she had been through the wringer.
Dermott dragged her to a chair that had just been vacated, many of the passengers now making their way back to their rooms, and clicked his fingers at a passing waiter.
“Water! As fast as you can.”
“Make it a scotch!” Billie called out. “Single malt, on the rocks!”
