Table For Eight

by Tricia Stringer

  In the evening, after she’d indulged in a massage, she’d met Ed for dinner at a restaurant near their hotel. A cold shiver wriggled down her spine and gnawed its way around to the pit of her stomach where it remained to unsettle her. She remembered the events of that evening in detail. Not what she’d ordered and left uneaten, but Ed’s declaration that he’d been unhappy for years and that he was leaving her; the disbelief, the shock, the idea that he was teasing and then the realisation that he wasn’t. She’d felt sick and numb as waiters had come and gone with food and drinks. She swallowed too much wine, her face had felt stiff from trying to keep her emotions at bay as they sat at a table for two in the middle of the restaurant. Back at their room he’d come inside long enough to collect his things and for her to beg him not to leave her, then he’d let himself out. Their only conversations since had been via their lawyers.

  “Whatever’s the matter? You’ve gone quite pale.”

  Maude’s question brought Celia back to the present. The Opera House was well behind them now. Like Ed, the bastard.

  “Nothing.” She looked back at the harbour, teeming with ferries, water taxis and sailing boats.

  “Are you sure you’re not feeling seasick?”

  Celia was trying not to think about that possibility but it did lurk at the back of her mind. “Beryl was telling me about her last cruise the other day at bowls. It was really rough and lots of people got sick.”

  “You know how Beryl exaggerates.”

  Celia did but she hadn’t been able to escape Beryl’s regaling of her cruise experience, nor could she forget it.

  “If you’re worried you should have taken a pill like I did.”

  “I’d rather not take medication unless I have to.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  I will, Celia thought. She looked at her empty glass but couldn’t face the crush of people around the bar. Everywhere you looked there were people pressed to spaces along the rails, or standing in groups chatting and laughing, taking photos, even dancing to the beat of the music. She didn’t want to run into Ed unexpectedly. She wanted to pick that moment for herself.

  “This is definitely a party cruise and by the look of it a real mix of ages.” Maude drained her own glass. She turned her head and a soft breeze ruffled her dark wavy hair. “Isn’t this wonderful?” she said. “Can you believe we’re actually underway at last?”

  Celia sucked in the fresh air swirling around her and lifted her chin. “Thanks for coming with me, Maude. I’m sure we’ll enjoy it.”

  A waitress appeared. “Can I get you another drink, ladies?” she asked.

  “Yes, please,” Maude and Celia chorused in unison.

  “My shout.” Maude showed her card to the waitress then turned back to Celia with a triumphant smile. “I told you it would be easier to have the full drinks package.”

  “And I told you I’d be under the table instead of enjoying the cruise if I drank that much in one day.” Celia settled back in the chair. Maude would be on her ear before they made the Heads where the harbour met the ocean if she kept drinking at this rate.

  In no time at all the waitress was back with their drinks. Maude tapped her glass against Celia’s. “Here’s to good times ahead.”

  “To good times.”

  Maude was distracted by a man strolling past. She leaned in to Celia. “Plenty of possibilities this week, I think.”

  Celia sniffed. “There are plenty of possibilities at our bowls club.”

  “Like who?”

  “Jack Higgins.”

  “Not my type.”

  “Jeff Sangster.”

  Maude screwed up her nose. “Bad breath.”

  “What about Clive Brown?”

  Maude snorted into her drink. “Give me some credit please. Clive has tried to take out every available woman at the club. There’s a reason they’ve all rejected him.”

  “Oh.” Celia frowned.

  “Full of talk and no action.” Maude’s eyebrows wiggled up and down.

  “Oh!” Celia gave an involuntary shudder. How was she ever going to pretend she was looking for a fling? Ed had been the only man she’d ever slept with, and since menopause that had been rare. He had destroyed any idea of intimacy when he’d stabbed her through the heart and walked out, but she still yearned for companionship. People to chat to, go to the movies with, eat out. That’s why she’d joined the bowls club when she’d made a sea change, two hours from Adelaide, after the divorce. She’d simply wanted to make new friends. To her surprise she’d also become quite good at bowls. Which had led to her pairing with Maude who was herself a talent at the game. They played in the same team but apart from her bowling skills, her drink preference and her outgoing personality, what did Celia really know about Maude?

  Maude leaned back in her chair and watched two more men around their age pass by. “Plenty to feast on here.” She giggled. “I might get lucky on this cruise.”

  “Not with those two.” Celia nodded at the two women chatting intently only a few steps behind the men. “I suspect they’re the wives.”

  “You and I both know that’s of little consequence to some.”

  “Maude!”

  “Don’t look so horrified. No point in shying away from it. We’ve both been traded for new models but we’re only just past fifty, not one hundred.” Maude took another sip of bubbly and surveyed the crowd. “Use it or lose it, I say.”

  Celia emptied her glass. She needed some courage but she should also eat something if she was to have another. “What time did you say we were having dinner?”

  Maude lifted the plastic credit-like card that dangled from a sparkling lanyard around her neck. “We’ve got the late sitting. The name of the dining room is on your card.”

  She leaned forward as Celia turned her own card to look.

  “They’re different names,” Celia said.

  “They can’t be.”

  “Mine says Marlborough and yours says Gloucester.” Celia was tugged forward as Maude took a closer look at her card.

  “They are. That’s odd. We booked together and asked to be seated together.”

  “We’ll have to ask someone.”

  “Don’t worry about it now.” Maude finished her drink. “It’s your shout and I think we should go for a bit of a look up front and watch the scenery from up there as we go out through the Heads.” Maude stood up. “Let’s go to the bar and move on from there.”

  Celia followed more slowly. She didn’t imagine Ed would recognise her behind sunglasses and floppy hat but she had to keep a constant lookout.

  Christine watched the two women move from the nearby table. “Let’s sit down,” she said to Frank and made a beeline for the empty table and chairs before anyone else had the same idea. All around them people grouped, moved, regrouped, some taking in the passing view, others intent on conversations; nearly everyone had a drink in their hand. Their enjoyment somehow eluded Christine and she felt a stab of envy.

  Her legs and back were aching. She sank gratefully onto one of the chairs, pleased to have somewhere to rest her drink. It was some kind of cocktail, pinkish red in colour. A little umbrella jutted out one side and a slice of pineapple sporting a cherry on a toothpick was wedged to the lip. Thank goodness it had a straw. She’d never get it to her lips otherwise.

  “I don’t know how we’ll ever find Dad in this crowd.”

  “I thought he answered your text.” Frank lowered his tall frame to the empty chair beside her.

  “He did, eventually, but the pool deck is huge.” Her calls had rung out so she’d resorted to texting. It wasn’t until the ship was pulling away from the wharf that her father had messaged back, saying he’d meet them on the pool deck.

  “Relax, he’ll find us.”

  Christine leaned forward, hunched her shoulders then pressed herself back against the chair. She closed her eyes. The air was warm and the breeze caressed her skin. Surely here she could let go of the stress. They’d left their hom
e in Melbourne in the early hours of the morning to make the flight to Sydney in time for the ship’s departure. The process of boarding had taken some time; there were queues and instructions and forms. Her head had started to throb by the time they’d made it aboard. It had been a long day after a busy week after a difficult couple of months.

  She let out a long sigh. At least the pain in her head had eased. “It’s so good to sit down at last.”

  “I’m glad we’re doing this.”

  Her eyes flew open. “That’s rich when I had to almost drag you kicking and screaming.”

  “Now that I’ve seen this ship I’m sure there will be benefits.” Frank patted her leg. “I’ll miss the kids but we could do with some time to ourselves.”

  “We have to include Dad.”

  “I bet Bernie doesn’t want us hanging around every minute.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know your dad. He’ll be checking out the talent.”

  Christine stiffened. “This cruise is about us as a family.”

  Frank laughed. “Tell that to Bernie.”

  She had thought a cruise would confine her father. He’d be forced to spend time with her, but as she looked around she knew Frank was right. He’d be in full party mode, entertaining the ladies, as he liked to say. She shrugged her shoulders to rid herself of the image of her aging father lusting after women. “Anyway, I plan to do lots of relaxing.”

  “That’s why you brought a laptop and an iPad.”

  “My iPad is an e-reader and we can facetime the kids, and the laptop has training packages for the new work software—”

  “I checked out the wi-fi costs. Do you realise how expensive it is?”

  “I don’t need wi-fi for the training package but I do need to familiarise myself with it some more.”

  Frank pushed back in his chair. “You work too hard.”

  “I’d like to do less but it’s impossible until we get new staff.” The medical imaging company where she worked as office manager had opened another branch and changed the software program that ran all their bookings and referrals. Some staff had shifted to the new location. There was talk of hiring new personnel but that hadn’t happened yet.

  “You’re only one person, Chrissie. You’ve got to learn to walk out the door.”

  “They don’t pay me to walk out the door at set times.”

  “They don’t pay you well enough to work such long hours either.”

  “It’s private practice. It’s easy for you working for the council. You just clock on and off.”

  The fine wrinkles along Frank’s jaw deepened. He reached for his beer. Christine knew her words had irritated him but he didn’t say anything more. They’d been down this path before. She hadn’t meant to simplify his job. He had a senior position in their local council but he always seemed to be able to be home at a reasonable hour. Nor did he bring the worries of his day home with him like she did. And he did do things with the kids, but always the easy jobs like ferrying them around. He hardly ever cooked or cleaned, paid bills, made appointments or any of the myriad of details she attended to, and that was before she left for work.

  Once more she was sorry that the words were out before she could stop them, but he had no understanding of how hard she worked and then when she got home it didn’t stop. She felt as if all she did was snap at Frank these days. They hadn’t made love in months. She’d been appalled when she’d worked out last night how long it had been. Frank had shown interest of course, but it always felt like the wrong moment. And she was always so tired. Now she studied his profile. He was turned away from her, staring in the direction of the pool where some younger ones were already swimming. She still found him such a good-looking man but she wondered what he thought of her these days. Her hair needed a cut, she’d put on a few kilos and had not had the time or the money to shop for a new outfit this summer.

  She finally took a sip of the cocktail he’d bought her and wrinkled her nose; it was sickly sweet.

  “Hello, Princess.” Two strong arms came around her neck. She twisted to look up into the bright smiling face of her father.

  “You found us.”

  “Of course.” He leaned down and kissed her. The fruity smell of beer mingled with his spicy cologne and she got a close look at the curls of silver hair on his bronzed chest.

  He trailed his big paw of a hand down her cheek. “You look like you could do with a holiday.”

  Her hand went to her hair. She’d meant to take out the ponytail and brush it before she came up on deck and now that she thought about it she’d forgotten to reapply her lipstick. She recalled the glimpse of herself she’d caught in the mirror just before her father had finally responded to her text and said he’d meet them on the pool deck. She’d looked years older than her forty. “It was a nightmare getting here.”

  “Good to see you, Bernie.” Frank held out his hand. “You’re looking well.”

  “Glad you could join us, Frank.”

  “You’re very brown, Dad. It’s not good for your skin, you know.” Christine reached for a button on his open shirt but he evaded her and slid onto a seat opposite.

  “Have you had a good look around yet?” He waved his beer at their surroundings. “It’s a fancy ship.”

  “I have,” Frank said. “Christine hasn’t got much further than the cabin and here.”

  “The cases turned up. Someone had to unpack. Then we had that ridiculous life jacket drill.”

  “They have to be sure everyone knows what to do in an emergency.” Frank drained his glass.

  “There was no need to drag it out for so long. It’s common sense, Frank.”

  He held her gaze a moment, a tinge of hurt crossing his face. Christine felt the knife of guilt again.

  He rose from his seat. “I’ll go and get a refill. Another beer for you, Bernie?”

  Bernard nodded, waited for Frank to leave then leaned in. “So, what’s up, Princess? We’re meant to be on holiday and you two seem a bit tetchy.”

  “We’re fine, Dad.” Christine managed a smile. “We’re both tired. We’ll soon be in full unwind mode.”

  “That’s good. You’re always so busy, you lot.” He reached out with the beer he’d been holding and tapped her glass. “Cheers, big ears.”

  “Cheers, Dad.” Christine took another quick sip of her drink. Was it simply weariness that ailed them? Frank had been her dreamboat – they’d fallen in love at uni, travelled, found jobs and married. They’d both been eager to have kids, but when she thought about it, the arrival of the babies had been the start of the demise of their relationship. Life revolved around the children now. There had been so little time for each other and in the last few months hardly any. She couldn’t stand the thought of her and Frank drifting any further apart than they already had. She’d planned this cruise to rebuild her relationship with her father but recently she’d added a second item to her agenda: mending her marriage. The thought of the work she had ahead sent a wave of panic through her. She took a gulp of the cocktail.

  From his spot at the back of the ship, Jim watched the small boat that had taken the pilot back aboard swing around and power away to return through the Heads. Further along the coast, several large yachts cruised towards the opening in the cliffs that would take them to the safety of Sydney Harbour. How he wished he was on one of them instead of this cruise. Behind him music and the chatter and laughter of people getting into holiday mood carried on the wind. He stood slightly apart from the nearest group, watching the small trail of whitewater behind the ship flatten out to a dark blur on the deep green ocean. He should never have agreed to come. What was he to do with himself for the next ten days and nights?

  A cruise holiday had been top of his dear Jane’s bucket list, but they hadn’t been given enough time to fulfil it. There was so much they hadn’t done in the end. Her diagnosis and decline had been swift. He closed his eyes and imagined her here beside him. She would be loving it. She was alway
s the social butterfly, taking in every new thing. He lowered his head to his arms and gasped in a breath. Dear, dear Jane.

  The phone in his pocket vibrated, startling him. He had meant to turn it off. He tugged it free, amazed that he still had signal. Tammy’s face smiled at him from the screen. He swiped at the button and pressed the phone to his ear.

  “Dad?”

  “Hello, love.”

  “Oh, Dad, I’m so cross with Anthony. I’ve just chewed his ear for ten minutes about how thoughtless he’s being.”

  “You mustn’t.”

  “He’s saying it’s work but I think that’s an excuse.”

  Jim closed his eyes and tried to think what Anthony had said. Something wrong on a rig somewhere and he had to go.

  “He can’t ignore his job, Tam. They pay him big money to go when they call him.”

  “Money’s not everything.”

  Jim could hear the exasperation in her voice. She sounded so like her mother when she was cross.

  “He’s known about this cruise for months.” Her voice softened. “I can’t bear the thought of you being all on your own, Dad.”

  Jim sucked in a deep breath. The sounds of the party going on around him drifted on the wind. “I’m not alone, love. There’s a shipload of people here with me.”

  “You know what I mean, Dad. You don’t like—”

  “I’ll be fine.” He cut her off before she could sound any sadder and make him feel worse. “We’re heading out to sea now and you’re breaking up. I’ll be in touch when I can. Don’t worry about me, Tam, I’ll be enjoying myself.” He hoped he sounded convincing.

  “Love you, Dad.” Her closing words had been very clear as he moved his finger to disconnect.

  Four

  Night One – At Sea

  First night at sea was Ketty’s favourite, and the calm waters made the ship’s movement barely detectable in the middle atrium level where she stood, one hand on the balustrade, as she took in her surroundings. It was the best place to be. There was a buzz in the air around her, not just the bubble of voices merging with the background sound of piano music, but an electric mix of expectation, excitement and even nervous tension. She watched the people strolling past, greeting friends, or exploring, looking in shop windows while others reclined in the luxurious seating of the lounges and bars that overlooked the central hub of the ship. She took in the looks of indecision on some faces, probably new cruisers still uncertain of their surroundings, and the more confident gestures of others hailing waiters, flashing cruise cards and sipping from elegant stemmed glasses. Such a mix of people. She felt the familiar thrill of expectation.