by Celia Imrie
Arturo made a great fuss of flapping his napkin open, forming it into a bird and then a hat before laying it flat on his lap.
‘Yes, lovely, thank you, Arturo,’ said Suzy, trying anything to avert further conversation with Tony. ‘Have you sailed before?’
‘It’s my job,’ he said, tucking the napkin under his chin. ‘I drive the ship.’
‘You’re on the crew?’ Suzy wondered if something had been lost in translation. ‘I thought you were the magician.’
‘Don’t be frightened. When I say I drive it, I mean I control the vessel with my mind. I steer us to safety. But this is my first time on the Atlantic Ocean, which they tell me can get very … what was the word? … chopful.’
‘Choppy,’ said Suzy.
‘I think choppy is a very kind word for what we’re due to run into.’ Tony picked up the menu. ‘But this ship is a sturdy old girl.’
‘Tony is with us, lecturing on the vagaries of this ocean, Arturo, so he should know.’
‘Hmmmmm?’ went Arturo. Suzy wasn’t sure whether the sound he made was associated with his perusal of the menu or his doubts about Tony’s expertise.
‘I presume you are, like us, working on the ship, Arturo. Not just enjoying the elegance of the crossing?’
‘I perform,’ he said. ‘I am Arturo the Luminoso – the greatest magician of the age.’
Now it was Tony’s turn to make an ambiguous sound. His face still in the menu, he let out a muffled groan. ‘So you’ll be expecting us to believe in a lot of hocus-pocus,’ he sighed.
Suzy looked down at her own menu, squirming with embarrassment. This table was going to be wearing. A disagreeable scientist and a mad magician were obviously never going to see eye to eye. And Muggins would be left to act as referee.
‘We’d better choose what we want,’ she said, trying to lighten the tone. ‘I see a waiter bearing down on us.’
The ship rocked a little – probably going through the passing wake from another vessel.
While Suzy and Tony placed their orders, Arturo started breathing very heavily. He patted his pockets and then plunged his hands into them. He pulled out a rosary and laid it on the table.
Suzy looked down at the string of pearl stones ending in a tiny silver crucifix and wondered how, if he was so scared of a tiny wave, Arturo would cope with the rest of the voyage.
With his other hand, Arturo placed a rabbit’s foot on his place setting, then a piece of salmon-pink coral and a little mother-of-pearl horn. These were followed by a one-inch piece of black rope, a holy picture, a charm bracelet and a pebble of lapis lazuli on a golden chain. Finally, out came a St Christopher medal, a wrinkled chestnut and a clove of garlic.
‘Pardon me,’ said Arturo, holding up the garlic between his thumb and forefinger. ‘I believe I have been given the evil eye.’ He tilted his head towards the corner of the dining room, leaned in to Suzy and whispered, ‘You cannot be too careful.’
Suzy glanced in the direction that Arturo had indicated.
‘No, madam! Do not look. I stood beside him as we queued for security. He emanated danger. He will hurt you too. He is the Devil. I have seen Satan before, many times. But I did not expect that Lucifer himself would be aboard this vessel.’ He crossed himself before picking up the menu. ‘But he is. And he’s just walked past.’
Suzy nodded, peering about her trying to see if she could see to whom Arturo was referring, then smiled at the waiter who was hovering at her side. She placed her order and took a deep breath.
‘I am sensitive to the malevolent vibrations. Beware of demons,’ Arturo whispered into her ear. ‘And beware the evil eye!’
Ah well, thought Suzy. Whatever was going to happen, this trip looked as though it would be far from boring.
*
After dinner, as Amanda left the dining room, Chris caught up with her. Jennie took care to stand a few steps behind.
‘Hey there, Amanda,’ he said. ‘Might I have a little word in your shell-like?’ He put his hand on her shoulder. She dared barely breathe in the miasma of his very pungent aftershave. ‘Jennie and I don’t think it’s quite right that we should have to share our table with that nasty little teenaged lout. What do you say about it?’
‘I’m sorry?’ Amanda couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘It’s clear from his manner that the lad called Tyger is no more than a little hooligan and far too young to appreciate the finesse of fine conversation at an adults’ table. And what with you being a woman of a certain age, we thought you might come with us to the purser’s office to make an official complaint and get him chucked out of the adults’ dining room.’
Before Chris had made the comment about her own age, Amanda was already bristling. Now she was fuming.
‘The boy has a perfect right to sit with his aunt, doesn’t he?’ She spoke quietly, calmly, though she felt far from calm. ‘They have paid for their cabin, just as you have.’
‘Tyger with a Y! Whoever heard of such nonsense?’ said Chris. ‘Why not Jim or Pete or some sensible proper bloke’s name?’
‘It’s after the poem by William Blake, I presume. I think it’s rather romantic.’
‘William Blake? Who he?’ To Amanda’s ear, everything Chris said sounded as though it was set within inverted commas. ‘The absent father, I suppose.’
Amanda realised there would be no point explaining to Chris that William Blake was a major figure in world literature who had been dead for almost two hundred years so instead she looked to his wife for some sense.
‘And what do you think, Jennie? Tyger seems a nice boy, doesn’t he?’
Jennie cowered beneath her fringe and simpered, ‘It’s not my place to contradict Chris.’
‘Maybe if you don’t like the company at our table you should ask to be moved to another table where you can sit by yourselves. There certainly are tables for two,’ said Amanda and as she spoke the phone in her evening bag buzzed. Merciful release! ‘I’m sorry, Chris, I really can’t talk about this now. I’m expecting an urgent call.’ In fact, Amanda wasn’t expecting any calls, and was amazed to be getting a signal, but the phone excuse was as good a way to escape as any.
‘I’d watch out if you’re using a phone onboard ship,’ Chris called after her. ‘The charges can be astronomical, you know.’
Mind your own business, thought Amanda, pulling the phone from her bag. ‘We’re still just near enough the English coast for it to get a local signal,’ she said, pushing through a double door and out on to the open deck. In the distance, across the black water, the lights of the Cornish coast twinkled.
‘Hello!’
‘Mum?’
‘Patricia! How’s it going?’
Patricia’s voice was near hysterical.
‘This French boy is hopeless. Absolutely hopeless. Stupid name – Sofian. With a name like that I should have known he’d be useless. You’re right. It does sound like a girl, doesn’t it? Anyhow, Mum, he left … well, actually, I’ve sacked him. I suppose you couldn’t come over right now?’
Amanda suppressed a huge laugh.
‘I’m afraid not, darling.’
‘What do you mean, afraid not?’ Amanda could pick up the tension in her daughter’s voice. ‘Look, Mummy. I know it’s almost bedtime for you. But just this once … Look … I really need you here, right now.’
‘I’m sorry, darling, but it’s out of the question.’
‘I’ll pay for the taxi, Mum. A real one, not an Uber. I’ll prepay if needs be. A proper black cab. I’ll phone now and order it. That would be a perfect solution. You need somewhere to stay, after all. I want you here. We’re doing one another a favour.’
‘I’m so sorry …’
‘Look! What’s the problem, Mum? Just come over. Now!’
Patricia left a pause.
Amanda broke it, speaking softly and calmly.
‘I’m so sorry, darling, but I genuinely can’t do that.’
; Patricia continued in a cooing tone, ‘You’ll have a lovely room, Mummy – the spare room … all to yourself. I can bring you breakfast in bed. Anything …’
Another uncomfortable pause.
‘And, if it’s money, I could pay you what I was paying Sofian. I’ll put a TV in your room, with satellite channels. Anything you want.’
Amanda braced herself.
‘I’m sorry, Patricia, but, you see, darling, I’m about to go out of range any minute now.’
‘Out of range? Mummy! What on earth are you talking about?’
‘I’m on a cruise ship bound for America, sweetheart. And we’re just about to pass Land’s End.’
‘Mother! Are you feeling quite well?’
‘I’m serious, Patricia. I’m on a ship and in a short while we’ll be entering the Atlantic Ocean.’
‘Mummy, please! Enough joking …’
‘I hear that Mark needs somewhere to stay. Perhaps you could try him …’
‘Mother … You’re being ridiculous. This is too much …’
The phone signal cut off. Amanda felt she should call back but when she looked down at the screen she saw at the corner the words ‘No signal’.
A gust of wind rippled through her hair. She looked up from the phone. Ahead now she could see only a vast expanse of black – the sea and sky merged into one dark chasm. She looked down the side of the ship at the water, reflections from the lights, green and white, dancing on the ripples, as they ploughed onwards into the darkness.
Amanda felt a mixture of guilt and euphoria.
From now on it would be ‘no signal’ all the way to New York.
Seven days of peace and quiet.
The wind was whipping up, and, standing on the open deck in her cocktail dress, Amanda was chilled to the bone.
*
After dinner Suzy left the dining room, and went to the entertainment office to print out her script. She hoped that Blake would not be there. She knew she would be at a loss for words. Tony’s insinuations would be at the front of her mind when they next met, and she would blush needlessly. But first thing tomorrow she was due to take her first class and she wanted to prepare her costume and make-up ready to go. On top of that she knew that this time she had to really get it right.
After giving a tentative knock she entered. The office was empty, though one of the desk lights was on, so someone had obviously just gone off to the loo or something. She quickly printed out her lecture and returned to her cabin.
As she walked the long corridors, she glanced through the script. There were still typos which needed correcting, and some bits she knew she’d muddle if she didn’t use a highlighter and mark up.
The cabin was a welcome refuge, a bit like the dressing room in a theatre. Out in the ship she knew she always had to be on duty. She could never let the smile drop or next morning some know-all, who didn’t realise or care that the charges for using a mobile onboard were astronomical, would be savaging her all over Twitter or dropping messages into the ship’s Suggestion Box saying that in real life Suzy Marshall was a right bitch.
She got into her pyjamas and started laying out the clothes for her morning class. She felt quite ill at ease about both Tony and Blake, who were in a way her team while onboard. Once the first lecture was done with she would have to dedicate some time trying to work out a way to make things better with them.
As she chose her shoes, the phone in her evening bag buzzed. She opened up.
Three messages in the voicemail. She clicked the answering app and listened, all the while looking out of the porthole. There were still a few yellow lights twinkling on the coast. Land was still in sight. It must be the Lizard – a name she recalled from geography classes at school. The most southerly point of England. After this there would be no coast to see till they neared North America.
First message: India. ‘Darling! Have you checked your bank? Call me back.’
Hoorah, thought Suzy. Perhaps they had finally been paid – the rehearsal money, at least, and the per diem and expenses for Zurich.
Second message: Emily. ‘Hello, Suze. It’s all a bit worrying, isn’t it? Not sure whether the others have contacted you. But we should talk soon. We need a united front on this one. I’ve got Equity on to it. Phone me when you get a chance.’
India: ‘Really, Suzy, what’s happening? You must contact me … NOW. I don’t care if it’s late. It’s India, by the way. And it’s URGENT.’
Suzy rapidly shut down the answerphone app and rang India. She glanced at her watch. It was after half past eleven. She hoped India really meant what she had said about phoning late.
India picked up.
‘India? It’s Suzy!’
‘Oh Gaaaaaaaahhdd! Isn’t it terrible? What are we going to do?’
‘I’m in the dark, India. What has happened, exactly?’
‘We’ve all had our bank accounts cleared out. Identity scam. Haven’t you seen?’
Suzy shuddered. She had very little in her bank but she couldn’t risk losing it.
‘When you say “we’ve all”, I presume you mean the Importance company.’
‘Exactly. My parents have talked to their lawyer about it. The bastards have taken my allowance, my dividends, everything.’
‘Have you spoken to Reg? Has he suffered too?’
‘I told him about it. He got off the phone to check out his bank. He was going on about Jason for some reason. He says it’s all his fault.’
‘Jason?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did you speak to Stan?’
‘No one can track him down. Like Jason, he’s vanished from the face of the planet. Even their agents don’t know where they are. I hate to think that they might have run off together, especially if they’ve taken our money.’
Suzy tried to interject but India was fired up.
‘At first I thought it was just me, but then Barbara called and she said practically everyone else had been in contact. My bank told me that some of the money had gone into a Swiss account under the name J. Scott. So you see it must have been him. What a bastard! And he seemed so nice too.’
India’s voice was dipping in and out.
‘India. I’m on a ship and I’m just going out of signal – but let’s be in touch by email.’ Heart pounding, she gave India her email address and added that she knew where Jason was and that she would corner him, but when she looked down at the phone she saw that there were no rungs at all on the signal bar. The phone had already gone out of range. Suzy had no idea how much or how little India had heard.
She hurried to the laptop and signed up for an internet package then went straight online to her bank. Both her savings and current accounts were empty.
Suzy wrote an email to the bank, warning them that her accounts had been accessed illegally. She suggested they open a new account for her to put her wages into and explained that there should be no withdrawals for the next week and to stop any money going out apart from her usual standing orders, adding that if they needed to get in touch they should only use email.
She quickly did a Send and Receive, picked up a bundle of emails, then went offline.
Was she nurturing a serpent to her bosom? Could Jason really have faked his friendship with her while bleeding her dry? She felt sick to her stomach.
Slowly Suzy worked through the inbox, her mind racing. She’d received mainly the usual junk – shops and restaurants advertising deals, energy companies asking for meter readings. But there was one message from Barbara, who wrote, in a very matter-of-fact way, explaining that members of The Importance of Being Earnest company should check their banks and, wherever possible, change their passwords, put blocks on their accounts, do anything to protect themselves. The police had been informed. She would keep in touch with everyone and tell of further developments and if anyone had any information they should contact her.
Suzy closed the computer. Could Jason really be at the bottom of this?
She looked at her
watch. Midnight. She really should look at her script then go to bed, but she felt so disturbed by this new development that she knew she would never sleep, especially if she was aiding and abetting the very criminal who had robbed her and the rest of the company.
Suzy wondered what happened if you discovered a crook onboard a ship while in the Atlantic Ocean and nowhere near a port. She didn’t think they’d have bilboes, like in pirate days of old. Did they have an onboard prison cell? Did they lock suspects in their cabin? Or did police arrive … by fast ship or helicopter? Were there police already onboard, or marshals? Or did the Captain act as a de facto police chief?
She wanted to ask Jason point-blank whether he had bled all their accounts and watch his response.
It was late.
He must be coming off duty around now.
She had to find Jason.
*
Back in her stateroom, Amanda decided to write a letter of apology to Patricia. She felt bad at having let her down but couldn’t help also feeling a sneaking touch of Schadenfreude, or at least tit for tat; after all, just a few days ago Patricia had not had that much sympathy for her own situation. But Amanda hoped to write and make it all better.
As she opened her email she saw one there from her lawyer. No! Surely not another U-turn by the seller.
She hastily clicked on it.
Dear Mrs Herbert,
All change! The vendor has yet again changed his mind about the sale.
Oh no! Amanda took a deep breath and continued reading. Please God the man could not have withdrawn it from sale yet again. Only a few days ago the solicitor had assured her that the whole process was watertight and that all she needed to do was be patient.
The vendor has today left the keys with his solicitor, who assures me they will be with me tomorrow morning at 9 a.m. The monies are all exchanged, and should have reached the vendor’s bank account this afternoon. Therefore the sale is complete. So this note is to let you know that, legally, from midnight tonight, but technically (due to the key!) from tomorrow when the office opens at 10, the flat is available for you to move in. I did try phoning your mobile a few times today, but with no luck. I hope you received the messages. Congratulations on your purchase and I hope you have many happy years in your new flat.
