by Celia Imrie
‘But I thought you said that they were refundable and exchangeable.’
‘Exactly!’ said India. ‘They were. Only somebody exchanged them, got them refunded, and left us with duds. We’re stranded.’
‘We’ve no tickets? How will we get home?’
‘That’s what we’re all asking ourselves.’
Suzy looked around. She noticed that Stan Arbuthnot was missing.
‘Oh, he’s all right, Jack,’ said India. ‘Loaded, apparently. He’s already out of here.’
‘Did you see him?’
‘No. Barbara saw his name on the list when she was checking her own dud ticket. He was already through security and away. She called his mobile, but he wasn’t picking up.’
‘Probably too busy loading up in Duty Free,’ said Suzy. ‘He wasn’t at the theatre this morning, so he must have known that all this was happening before we did.’
‘Apparently so.’
‘Stan’s close to Reg, isn’t he?’
‘Sorry, Suzy, I really have to concentrate. I’m trying to get myself a ticket by amassing all the points I have on every credit or hotel card anywhere, anyhow.’
Suzy went to the desk and asked how much was the cheapest flight to London this morning. She was told prices started at 500 Swiss francs.
‘But that’s …’ She tried to convert it in her head.
‘Around £400,’ said the desk clerk. ‘There’s a big expo on this week. Many people are trying to get back to London.’ He looked up at Suzy and smiled. ‘Prices will be very much cheaper next week.’
Suzy wanted to cry. What could she do next? If she stayed here in Zurich, simply eating out for a week would cost her the same as buying a ticket today. And she’d given up the room and also had nowhere to lay her hands on any funds.
She moved over to a quieter corner of the departures concourse and phoned her agent’s mobile. Though it was out of office hours, he picked up. She told him what had happened and that she was now stuck in Zurich. She asked if he could wire her some money or a ticket or something. Anything! As long as she could get home.
He told her to hang on. He’d phone her back.
Suddenly someone touched her elbow. She swung around thinking a thief was going for her purse. But it was Jason. He looked wrecked, his clothes ruffled, his eyes heavy.
‘Let me tell you what happened,’ he said.
Suzy turned to face him. She was close to hitting him.
‘No, Jason, let me tell you what has happened. We’ve no job and we are stranded. They’ve cancelled our return tickets.’
‘He’s a bastard. A bastard!’ Jason momentarily put his head in his hands then looked at Suzy. ‘I’ll pay your fare. How much do you need?’
‘Four hundred pounds.’
Jason’s eyes opened wide. ‘Four hundred pounds? For a flight to London? That’s daylight robbery.’
‘Exactly.’
‘Sorry. I couldn’t do that. I thought it would be less than £100. So, we’re trapped here.’
‘Unless we have private funds, or can fly out next week, yes. Greasy Stan, the Chasuble, by the way, is already en route to London.’
‘Oh really!’ Jason’s lips tightened. ‘I’ll bet he is.’
Suzy was amazed that Jason was not more apologetic, if indeed his actions had caused this awful upheaval.
Her rage and fear left her shaking. It was difficult to refrain from slapping his pretty-boy face.
‘So tell me, Jason, exactly what did you do to bring on this catastrophe for us all?’
Jason looked Suzy in the eye. ‘Do you know an actress called April McNaughten?’
‘I’ve heard of her, of course, she’s a star, but what has this …?’
Jason bit his lip, as though deciding whether or not to confide something with her.
‘She’s on tour here in Zurich. She’s playing the lead in The King and I.’
‘But Jason … what has April McNaughten to do with this?’
Suzy wondered why he was changing the subject. She could see Jason putting on the brakes and rewinding the story he was about to tell. Whatever had happened last night, Suzy knew she was in for a highly edited version.
‘Nothing. Look. As you know, while we were at the fondue place last night, Reg called me. He wanted me to go to some swanky apartment suite in the centre of town. So I went. It turned out to be a party thrown by that man who was at the mingle.’
‘The backer?’
‘That’s him.’ Jason swallowed hard. ‘But Reg had set me up.’
‘In what way?’
‘The bloke, whose name is Appenzell, was … Look, does it really matter what happened?’
‘It really does, actually, Jason. Are you going to tell me?’
‘I didn’t like him and I didn’t like what he was up to.’
‘Which was?’
Suzy could see that Jason was holding something back.
‘Reg is obviously some kind of pimp. Boys like me must be how he raises money for his poxy little shows. Mr Appenzell has never produced a show before. He just has the cash and thought it would get him some favours.’
‘Don’t be so silly, and tell me exactly why he pulled out.’
‘Appenzell is a crook and Reg has a desire to protect him.’
‘Fancying young men isn’t a crime any more.’
‘It is when …’ Jason paused. He took a breath then continued. ‘Look. He … made a pass at me, so I lashed out at him, then I panicked. I hadn’t noticed on the way but there was now an oriental rug over the front door and I couldn’t find my way out. Somehow I managed to escape into the street, only to find Reg there, ringing on the night bell, about to come in. He was saying, “I know he’s … not on the straight and narrow. But he’s our paymaster, so just turn a blind eye.” I’m afraid I laid into Reg. I told him I was going to the police.’
‘You laid into him? What the hell is going on?’ said Suzy. ‘Did anyone see you?’
‘What do you mean by that?’ Jason had indignation in his tone.
‘I just wondered if there were witnesses. People from the hotel, perhaps?’
‘It wasn’t a hotel. It was a kind of block of service apartments.’
‘What happened next?’
Jason hesitated then said, ‘I don’t remember. Reg will probably have a black eye. And no doubt he’ll blame it all on me.’
Suzy knew that Jason was only telling a quarter of the story.
‘The police are looking for Appenzell,’ she said. ‘They were hanging around outside the theatre this morning.’
‘Oh God, Suzy! We have to get out of here. I don’t know what to do.’ Jason now appeared to be on the verge of tears. ‘I phoned my agent on the way here. It turns out he also represents Reg. They go way back. I told him what had happened, and he said I’d let the side down and then he fired me.’
‘He can’t do that.’
‘He just did.’
‘You’ll have to report him. And Reg.’
‘Can you imagine the awful publicity that would get me. I’d never work again.’
Suzy’s phone rang. It was her own agent, Max.
‘Now, Suzy, concentrate. If you can get yourself to Genoa by five thirty this afternoon …’
‘To where?’
‘Genoa, Italy. It’s straight down from Zurich. On the coast. Look, I’ve got you a job. Not only that – it’s a passage home, free lodgings and food – and they pay you! Peanuts, I’m afraid, but better than the nothing you got for Zurich. Only thing is you’ve got to get a move on. If you’re late, this ship will have sailed. Literally.’
*
Amanda found that getting through her things in the storage room wasn’t quite as easy as she had hoped it was going to be. For a start, all the boxes stacked up on one another were identical. The removal men had unloaded everything so neatly and now most of the boxes and suitcases she wanted, it seemed, were either right at the back, behind everything else, or at the bottom and underneath
. She scrabbled through the few accessible boxes and got herself a risible set of outfits. She also threw in her laptop for good measure. Perhaps she could get some mileage out of the trip itself, write it up as a travelogue and try to sell it somewhere.
From the brochure pictures, Amanda had set her heart on a cruise which was heading out through the Suez Canal and to various South Sea Islands, so she packed lots of silk and flimsy summer clothes.
By the time she locked up her storage booth and climbed into a taxi heading back to the travel agent’s in Victoria, it was already 9 a.m. and she was elated.
The girl who had previously served her was not there; instead Amanda sat down at the desk of a spotty youth with a wispy attempt at a beard.
‘I would like to get on a cruise today,’ said Amanda, fumbling in her bag for the brochure. ‘It’s going to the Suez Canal, leaving from Southampton this afternoon.’
‘Oh, yes. Mermaid Cruises,’ said the boy, tapping into his keyboard and gazing lazily at the screen. ‘Yes,’ he smiled. ‘The Pink Mermaid. Sold out, I’m afraid.’
‘You mean there’s not one solitary cabin left for me?’ Amanda was amazed at how disappointed she felt.
‘Not even a tarpaulin left in a lifeboat for a stowaway on that one,’ he replied. ‘Sorry.’
‘There’s nothing else leaving today, is there?’
‘To the Suez Canal?’
‘Something leaving today.’
‘I do have a short break from Spain, fly to Gaudí old Barcelona and come back via Gibraltar – home to the Pillars of Hercules, the rock, the monkeys, and fish-and-chip-loving Brits. Onwards, across bumpy old Biscay, to Santander – not the bank, the town, birthplace of famed golfer Seve Ballesteros, then home.’
The boy bit the side of his cheek, proud of his descriptions.
‘How long would that take?’
‘A week.’
‘That’s no good. I want two weeks, minimum. Maybe three.’
‘And where would you like to visit?’
‘Anywhere.’
‘When you say anywhere,’ the boy peered at her around the side of his computer screen, ‘do you actually mean “anywhere”?’
‘That’s right.’ Amanda realised that what she was just about to say probably sounded slightly preposterous, but she said it anyway. ‘I simply want to get on a boat, today, and not have to get off it until three weeks have passed, perhaps even longer.’
‘A single cabin?’ asked the boy, looking her up and down.
Amanda was getting used to people looking at her as though she was barking mad. In fact, she was beginning to enjoy it.
Yes, I’m batty! An old mad cow. So what! Who cares?
‘You aren’t wanted by the police or something, are you, madam? I wouldn’t want to be guilty of aiding and abetting a bullion robber.’
‘Let’s start again,’ said Amanda. ‘Do you have any cruise, leaving for anywhere, but leaving today, and not bringing me back for three weeks?’
The boy gave her a mischievous smile and set to work.
‘How much would you like to spend?’
‘Do you have a calculator?’
The boy gave her an old-fashioned look.
‘Let’s say three weeks’ worth of £150 a day. How much would that be?’
He tapped at the computer, all the while murmuring to himself.
At one point, he glanced up at her and said, ‘You do realise that you are giving me the travel agent’s equivalent of the taxi driver’s “Follow that car!”?’
For some minutes he went utterly silent, scrolling the mouse, making clicking sounds with his tongue against the back of his teeth.
Suddenly he leaped from his seat, shouting ‘Eureka!’ Then bent low and spun the computer monitor around to face Amanda.
‘Would you be prepared to fly?’
Amanda’s heart sank.
‘I had got used to the idea of a cruise,’ she said.
‘I understand that,’ said the boy. ‘You have to see, Mrs …?’
‘Herbert.’
‘You have to see, Mrs Herbert, that this is a wonderful challenge for me. Such a difference from the usual people who come in here wanting a family fortnight in Fuerteventura or a minibreak B&B in Benidorm.’
He picked up a pen and pointed to the top corner of the computer screen. It showed a map of the Mediterranean. ‘You see this cruise. It’s not full, so they’re offering rock-bottom prices for people getting on today.’
‘Where will it take me?’
‘You fly out and get on there.’ He wafted his pen towards the north of Italy. ‘Then you head back to Southampton.’
How boring, thought Amanda as she said aloud: ‘That can’t take three weeks.’
‘No,’ he said, ‘it doesn’t. But if, after docking at Southampton, you remain onboard and transit through, then you can go across the Atlantic …’
‘The Atlantic Ocean? Isn’t that a bit dull?’
‘People love the Atlantic because it gives you days and days of non-stop nothing. Absolute rest. It’s totally relaxing, you see, cos no one can get you by phone, and the internet is way too expensive to waste your days scanning your mobile for things to annoy you on Twitter. Therefore, the Atlantic gives you a genuine break from the hustle and bustle of home. It’s just you, the fabulousness of the ship and the ocean.’ Closing his eyes, he leaned back and took a deep breath. Refreshed, he eagerly swiped his finger across his computer screen. ‘And then, when you’re fully rested after those seven days at sea, dawn comes up as the ship pulls in to New York Harbour, squeaks under the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge into the Hudson River, passes near the Statue of Liberty, then you have nine hours to explore the city, grab a bagel and fries. After that the Blue Mermaid whisks you up to Boston, Cape Cod, Newfoundland and then home again. Interested?’
Amanda felt her heart skip a beat as she prepared to say the fateful words. It was like deciding to lay a pile of chips on a roulette board, and then waiting for the ball to drop. ‘I’ll take it.’
The boy seemed almost to pop with joy as he said efficiently, ‘I hope you have your passport on you.’
Amanda pulled it from her handbag and laid it open on the desk.
The boy flicked through it, noting down her name and number. He handed it back and said solemnly, ‘There are only two hitches.’
Amanda’s mood deflated.
She knew all this sounded too good to be true. The boy was now going to tell her it was for Under-25s only, or some other thing which ruled her out.
‘If you want to get off the ship in the USA you’ll need to apply for an ESTA, but you’ve got ten days to do that. I’d put the request in today as they’ll probably ask whether you have one before you sail out from Southampton.’
Amanda had done this before. Now that she had her laptop with her it would be easy enough to fill in the ESTA forms while waiting in the airport departure lounge.
‘And the other hitch?’
‘You’ll need to get to Victoria Station, Platform 3, within fifteen minutes. You could easily do it in five.’
He presented her with the contract, hot from the printer. ‘Sign here.’ He made a cross near a box at the bottom of the page, then handed it to her.
Amanda pulled out her credit card and stuck it into the card apparatus, while the boy stood at the printer.
‘I’ve issued you a train ticket too.’ He held up a large envelope. ‘Train, flight and cruise tickets. Your plane leaves Gatwick Airport at eleven thirty.’
‘Leaves Gatwick for where?’ said Amanda, almost breathless with excitement.
The boy leaned in and whispered, ‘La Superba. The largest, most important seaport in Italy.’
‘That’s where I go aboard?’ asked Amanda. ‘I don’t know Italy awfully well. Which city is that?’
‘The city of Christopher Columbus,’ said the boy, throwing her a feverish glance. ‘The magnificent naval centre which the French call Gênes, the Italians call Genova and we Brits call
Genoa, as in the cherry cake.’
*
When Suzy enquired at the airport about the cost of a flight to Genoa she was given much the same price as a flight to London, 514 Swiss francs.
That’s when Jason grabbed her arm. ‘Come with me.’
‘I need to get to Genoa, Jason. Now.’
‘I know. I heard. Trust me, Suzy. I can get you there for much less than a hundred quid. I know how to travel cheaply. Say your farewells.’
‘How?’
‘Train of course. No one ever thinks of it. I’m going to help you. It’s the least I can do. Come on. We’ve no time to lose so I’m going to look up the timetables, see if I can buy the tickets on my phone. See you at the entrance to the train station.’
Suzy went across to the little huddle of actors who remained. They said they had all managed to raise the money for their flights home and were checking in their bags, awaiting departures to London.
‘My agent bought my ticket,’ said India. ‘He’s got me an interview for a movie tomorrow morning, so I’m rather happy this all happened, cos it’s freed me up for something which could be so much better.’
Emily said she was looking forward to getting home too. ‘I’m thinking of this experience as a one-day holiday in Switzerland,’ she said. ‘I would never have come here normally, and now that I’ve done it I don’t need to do it again. And I’ve made some lovely new friends.’
Suzy didn’t want to tell them that she had no way of finding the money so said, ‘My agent is sending me on a little adventure. Only first I have to catch a train from Zurich Hauptbahnhof.’
‘We’ve only just come from there!’ shrieked India.
‘I know.’ Suzy tapped her nose. ‘Must rush. See you back home one day, folks,’ she added. ‘Good luck everyone.’
Suzy met Jason as arranged at the airport station and together they hopped on to a shuttle back into the central station. Jason explained that he had been a lifelong railway enthusiast and that he knew trains from Zurich ran regularly through to Genoa and cost a lot less than a flight.
‘I’d never have thought of that,’ she said.
‘No one ever does,’ said Jason. ‘Remember when that Icelandic volcano went off and people were on TV saying that they were trapped in Madrid or Copenhagen and couldn’t get home for a week and that the hotel bills were crippling them. I was yelling at the TV: “Take the train, you fools! You’ll be home tomorrow.” ’
