So, at the end of that eight-hour period, I boldly walk to the door of our old suite and wait with the next shift outside the door for the previous shift to come out of the cabin. I explain to those waiting what I’m doing, and they seem fine with it, although one of the women looks a little stressed, eyes darting back and forth. She eventually assures me it’s okay, as they are my family’s bags, after all.
“Why don’t you just take the bags with you?” another woman suggests. “It will give us much more room in our cabin and save you having to come back again.”
The agitated woman doesn’t appear so happy about that, but she looks like she doesn’t want to make a fuss in front of the others. She casts her eyes down to the floor, avoiding all eye contact.
“Okay. Cool. Suits me,” I say.
Even though I think that maybe those I’m sharing with won’t appreciate the extra gear clogging up the space, I owe it to Mum and Rosa to have their cases safely under my watch, rather than in with a group of strangers. And the agitated woman is making me feel suspicious.
When the leaving shift comes out, I also explain to them what I’m doing. They believe my story, and I think they’re pleased I’m making more room for them and their gear, so they have no objections. I go in with the current shift, and first of all I ask if I can open the safe. They haven’t been able to use it anyway, because it has our code in it, so they don’t mind—none of their treasures are stashed in there. I pull out the wads of paperwork Mum had put there, and stuff it into her hand luggage bag. One of the women helps me drag the cases and hand luggage out into the corridor. I balance one piece of hand luggage on top of each suitcase to make it easier. I don’t want to leave one case behind while I roll the first one to my cabin, so I struggle along, pulling both of them topped with hand luggage behind me, one suitcase handle in each hand.
Suddenly the agitated woman is by my side.
“Can I help you take the bags back to your cabin?” she offers.
She seems to have settled down a bit, and at first I say no, but she insists, so I let her. I’m grateful for her help, as it will take me a long time to get back all by myself juggling so many bags. We don’t talk much on the way.
When we arrive at my cabin door, I thank the woman and she heads off in the direction we came from. Then I realize I can’t take the bags in, as the third shift has already taken possession of our suite. I wish I’d thought it through more, but it seemed such a good opportunity at the time. I decide to sit on one of the bags and keep an eye on them all, but I know the next almost eight hours are going to be awfully tedious. I’ve missed out on lunch, not that it really bothers me with my iffy stomach. More importantly, I’ve missed my appointment with Jade.
What will she think of me? I hope I don’t blow it with her.
She’d understood I had to spend time with Sheryl yesterday, but I hadn’t turned up to explain why I couldn’t spend time with her again today. She’ll think I’m unreliable, and I don’t want her thinking that. I hope she’ll understand when I finally get to explain it all to her, that I couldn’t leave my family’s bags unattended in case something happens to them. So to fill in some time, I open up Mum’s case first—I can easily recognize which are her plaited ribbon colors, as distinct from Rosa’s, in the brightly lit corridor—and rifle through her things.
I find the packets of seasickness tablets held together with a rubber band as I had remembered in one of her suitcase pockets, and also find some other things I think might prove useful. Mum always makes such a fuss about hygiene and had brought a dozen small bottles of hand sanitizer on the trip, even though we heard it was to be supplied on the ship. She wanted to have her own personal supply, for when we were on shore for excursions, or at airports or wherever. She was really pleased to see the large hand-wash dispensers scattered around the ship, at the entrance to the restaurants and theaters and near the lifts. But I’ve noticed lately they’re pretty much empty, and though at first they were replenished regularly, supplies are probably rapidly running out due to the huge numbers of people swarming around the ship.
Mum has about a dozen little packets of tissues too (Mum loves buying things by the dozen) in another pocket, as well as a first aid kit stocked with Band-Aids, antiseptic cream, antidiarrhea tablets, some antibiotics, plus a few other packets of things. It makes me think the Pill packet I got from an outside pocket must have been from Rosa’s bag. I can’t wait to see Rosa again to find out what she’s up to. How can she be on the Pill without me knowing? I thought I knew everything about her. Maybe her relationship with Andy is more serious than mine with Zac? I’d never questioned it before.
Going through Mum’s stuff brings tears to my eyes. She’d been planning for the trip for months and had taken us on several fun shopping trips to buy clothes suitable for a cruise. There are a couple of colorful sarongs and a pair of bathers, strappy sandals, and several sundresses. She’d even bought herself some new underwear too. That makes me realize my supply of clean clothes is starting to run out. In the last few days it’s been almost impossible to do any handwashing, as there are no empty rails to hang things on in the bathroom with so many of us sharing, and no spare clothes hangers to use. There is certainly no laundry service anymore. I don’t really want to wear Mum’s clothes, as I’ve never done that before, but I know Rosa won’t mind. I feel bad that Rosa hasn’t had a chance to open her birthday presents—hers are still safely snuggled in Mum’s bag—whereas I had a chance to open mine on the actual day.
I’m so glad Mum’s bag doesn’t seem to have been tampered with. Seeing as there are so many people staying in our old suite at different times, it appears all the newcomers have respected the privacy of the people who own the bags that were there before they arrived to take over the cabin.
So I open Rosa’s suitcase, hoping for the same. Now I really start to choke up. I hold each item of clothing or underwear up high and look at it as if it’s the first time I’ve ever seen it. They all scream of a teenager going on a fun cruise, and look at the disaster it’s turned out to be. Her sarongs are so pretty and floaty, and her bathers barely worn. Even her new flip-flops are hardly dirty or scratched on the bottom, they’ve had so little wear.
I zip open the outside pocket of Rosa’s bag, the one I suspect is where the packet of the Pill had been hidden. I take the packet out of my pocket and put it back where I’d found it. I have a scrummage round to see what else is there. Down in the bottom I find a small, soft black drawstring bag. This isn’t Rosa’s, I don’t think, but then again I’m starting to wonder what I know about Rosa if she’s on the Pill and I don’t know anything about it.
I carefully pull the drawstring open and tip out a pretty sapphire and diamond ring into the palm of my hand—well, it looks blue like a sapphire and sparkly like diamonds to me. Now I know for sure it isn’t Rosa’s. It can’t be. I know all of Rosa’s jewelry intimately, down to the last earring that has lost its mate that she can’t bear to throw out. All our jewelry is costume jewelry. Unless Andy had given it to her and she didn’t want me and Mum to know about it yet…. Maybe it’s her sixteenth birthday present that he gave her before we came on the cruise? Zac didn’t give me anything to open on the day….
I just don’t know anymore. I think back to the agitated woman who helped me with the bags and wonder whether she knows something about the ring. No wonder she was so interested in helping me. She probably wanted to know which cabin I was taking the cases to. Is the jewelry hers? Was she making sure it wasn’t stolen from her, by hiding it in someone else’s bag? Or had she stolen it, and was hiding it in another person’s bag who she knew wasn’t on the boat anymore and therefore wouldn’t be looking in it?
Anything could happen on a cruise ship overcrowded with passengers. I don’t know what to do. If it’s Rosa’s, I have to make sure it isn’t lost or stolen. If that woman has stolen the ring and hidden it in Rosa’s bag for safekeeping, she doesn’t deserve to have it returned. But if it is hers and she’
s trying to hide it from prying eyes, she has to get it back. Maybe the packet of the Pill is hers too? I decide it’s best not to overreact, and to think about it for a while. I really need to talk to Sheryl—maybe she’ll have some sensible advice.
I eventually need to go to the toilet, so I have to leave the cases in the corridor and hope nobody will rifle through them in the short time I plan to be away. I thread the ring onto Rosa’s chain, together with her charm I’ve been wearing around my neck constantly since that first day I had to leave the cabin. That will be the best place for it, whoever it belongs to. I push the little bag that had contained the ring back into the pocket on Rosa’s bag. I don’t feel I should leave such a valuable-looking ring that doesn’t belong to me in the corridor where somebody else has the opportunity to take it. It makes me realize how lucky I am that with the eleven other people I’m sharing the cabin with through all of the three shifts, none of our gear appears to have been touched, which surely means they are an honest group of people. But you can’t trust everyone, I know that. With the number of passengers on board, there is bound to be the odd opportunistic thief or two.
While I’m away, I decide I’d better have something for dinner to keep my stomach lined. I go to the bistro and grab a couple of pieces of bread and slam some cheese slices between them and palm an apple as well. I look around for Jade but can’t see her in the crowds. She’s probably gone to the restaurant we’ve been to before, anyway. I hope she won’t be too upset with me that I didn’t meet her at the ship’s wake that afternoon and will understand my reasons when I get the chance to tell her.
When I return to our cabin, the cases are packed neatly where I left them, but the outside zip pocket on Rosa’s case hasn’t been completely closed. I thought I’d zipped it up fully before I went to the toilet and then the bistro, but I can’t really be sure—maybe I had left it slightly open. Or maybe that woman had come back while I was away. I’ll really have to start taking more notice of things, I decide. I rifle through the pocket, and then the rest of the bags in case I’ve confused where I put it, but I can’t find the little black jewelry bag anywhere. It’s gone! And so has the packet of the Pill. There’s nothing I can do for the time being, and I still have the ring safely in my possession around my neck.
I zip the bags up fully again, even though I know that won’t make any difference—it just makes me feel more secure for some reason. I sit on Rosa’s case, lean my head on the palm of my right hand, and with the fingers on my left hand I drag the ring and charm along the chain, back and forth, back and forth, and think.
What am I to do about this? Tell the captain there might be a thief on board? But what good will that do?
Will the woman—it must be her from our old cabin; who else could it be who would know to come looking for the ring—come back to try to claim it? Eventually my head feels heavy and I drift off, trying to sit upright on the case, as the ship is still pitching wildly around.
I’m jerked awake with a particularly violent thump, nearly losing my balance on the suitcase. I can hear the ship groaning and straining against the wild ocean. I hate to think how many of the passengers will now be sick with the motion and am so glad of my backup supply of Mum’s pills.
Finally Simone comes along the corridor, pushing Sheryl, with Marta not far behind them, ready for our shift in the cabin. Marta has been pronounced fit to leave the medical center. Simone and Marta look surprised that I have more suitcases plus hand luggage with me to cram into our room, but they fully understand once I explain it all to them. Now that Sheryl has seen me with my family’s luggage, she wants to make sure she has her sister’s safe too and asks if I’ll help her get it sometime soon.
While we’re waiting for the other shift to come out of our cabin, I show them what is hanging around my neck on my chain. I explain how I found the ring in Rosa’s case, and that the jewelry bag it was in, and the Pill packet, have been taken from the case while I was away.
Sheryl in particular seems worried.
“You know the ring most likely isn’t your sister’s, or mother’s, so it certainly belongs to someone else. But why would they put it in your sister’s bag?”
We decide it must belong to that woman from my old suite, who was trying to hide it from prying eyes, as otherwise how would it have gotten there, and who else would have known to look in the bag and take exactly those two things that don’t belong there?
I slip the ring off the chain, and Simone and Marta have a good look at it, holding it to the light and twisting it around and around. They agree they are pretty certain it looks like the blue stone called lucretia that is only found on their islands, so it must come from there. They don’t recognize the ring itself but say it would be expensive, as the stone is rare. All three women decide the other stones are diamonds too. So at least I was right about the diamond part. I realize now it really can’t be a ring Andy gave Rosa. He wouldn’t be able to afford to buy such a unique stone.
“I reckon the person who owns it must be hiding it from the others in their cabin,” I say. “Maybe it belongs legitimately to someone there, but if that’s the case, they would’ve told me when I took the cases away—although I didn’t speak to anyone on the third shift, only the ones going in and leaving at that time, so I only covered two shifts. And neither shift I spoke to asked to get it out, so if it wasn’t theirs, it was someone on the third shift, legitimately owned or not, or someone hiding stuff in the shifts I spoke to.”
It’s getting so complicated trying to explain what I’m thinking, and I know what I said came out all muddled. And I feel bad calling people “shifts,” but it’s the easiest way to say it.
“Let’s hope there’s not a thief on board, but statistically, with just so many people, there would have to be several thieves at least I’d say,” says Sheryl, echoing my previous thoughts. “If not worse….”
“Yes, I agree. But what do you think I should do with the ring? The woman must’ve been very upset when it wasn’t in the little black jewelry bag.”
“I think if the ring genuinely belongs to the woman, she would have been open with you about it from the start,” says Sheryl. “Even if she hadn’t wanted her cabinmates to know about it and was hiding it from them, she could still have spoken to you when she was helping you bring the bags here.”
I thread the ring back onto Rosa’s chain for safekeeping.
“Maybe she didn’t want me to know about it either.”
“Perhaps you should put a note under the door of the suite, even a separate note for each shift in case the first note goes missing between shifts, saying you found something in your sister’s bag, without saying what it is, and see if anyone contacts you to claim it. I don’t think you should approach any of them on your own, but if you give a time to meet at this cabin, I’ll be with you—you won’t have to deal with this alone.”
“Thanks so much, Sheryl. I’d be nervous to go back again on my own, as now I don’t know whether all those people in that suite, especially that one particular woman who helped me with the bags, are trustworthy. But I could slip three notes under the door at different times, when they’re in there sleeping.”
“And if someone does come to our door, don’t tell them what you found—let them tell you. That way we’ll know they aren’t just pretending. And we can ask them why they put both things in this bag rather than their own, so at least they’ll have to explain it. We should be able to tell if they look nervous or embarrassed.”
“What would I do without you, Sheryl? I can’t just keep the ring—I really want it to go back to its rightful owner. I just don’t think it’s that woman who helped me, though.”
“You’re a good, honest girl, Jilda,” says Sheryl. “Your parents should be so proud of you.”
Wow! Sheryl thinks I’m honest, Jade thinks I’m thoughtful. I didn’t realize those things about myself.
I’m pleased Sheryl thinks that about me. But her comment reminds me of Mum and Dad, not that I nee
d much reminding, and I feel lost and lonely again. I wonder what they think has happened to me. They must be worried sick—at least I know I’m alive, fed, and so far safe, even if a bit spewy, but they won’t have a clue where I am or what situation I’m in. I hope we can all find some peace and answers soon.
The shift comes to an end, and as that lot of passengers come out of our cabin—I must say, also looking fairly green—finally I’m free to enter, as it’s our turn to be in there once again. I stash the bags under mine and Sheryl’s after I ask her if that’s okay. Otherwise, if I have to keep them all under my case, the stack would be ridiculously high and probably topple over. Luckily, Sheryl doesn’t seem to be in too much of a rush to get her sister’s bags as well, as it would get completely out of control. I keep the necklace with the ring on it around my neck. Will someone creep in during the night while we’re asleep, looking for it?
Chapter Eleven: Day Ten Ship
DURING THE night, one by one my cabinmates complain of diarrhea as they have to continually rush to the bathroom. They keep me awake half the night—if it isn’t one of them it’s another. Fortunately, I don’t seem to have caught that particular bug. Cross fingers. I’m so grateful for Mum’s first-aid stash, because as soon as I have the first sign, I’ll take some of her antidiarrhea tablets to stave it off. Meanwhile, I give some to Sheryl, Marta, and Simone. They thank me profusely, gulping the pills down, and eventually their dashes to the loo slow, then cease altogether.
Before we leave our cabin for the day, I squirt some body shampoo down the toilet again to try to clean it, as it has become foul so quickly. At least I don’t throw up when I’m bent over the bowl this time, although I have to fight against it. I’m worried about what we’ll find when we return in sixteen hours for our next shift in the cabin, as the other inhabitants might be ill as well. Seeing as the diarrhea pills seem so effective, I decide I need to share my limited supplies with those on the other shifts in our cabin too, or it will become completely uninhabitable.
Jilda's Ark Page 9
