Table For Eight

by Tricia Stringer

  The man turned, his foot slipped and he lurched forward, floundering over the rail.

  Celia gasped, reached out with two hands and grabbed him around the waist. For a ghastly moment they teetered there and Celia thought he was going to fall, then he managed to right himself and they both collapsed backwards. She kept her feet but he slid to the deck, one shoulder against the rails.

  She put her hand to her thudding chest. “Are you all right?” she asked then gasped as he turned his sad face to hers. It was Jim from dinner.

  He stared through her, shuddered and turned back to stare at the water. “Yes.” His reply was a whisper on the waves.

  Jim sucked in a deep breath. His hand wrapped tighter around the rail as he stared at the foaming water below. He’d nearly gone right over. He’d thought about it ever so briefly, mesmerised by the water, but now, firmly back on the deck, he knew he never would have done it. The woman had startled him. He was aware of her now, hesitating beside him. He glanced up and she extended a hand.

  He looked from the hand back to her face. Her lips twitched in a nervous smile and he realised she was one of his dinner companions.

  “You’re Celia, aren’t you?”

  She nodded. He ignored her hand and used the rail to stand, embarrassed that she’d been the one to see him almost fall in.

  “I shouldn’t have done that, the rail was slippery.” He took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the tears that had welled in his eyes. “I like the ocean, the smell of salt and the spray. I used to sail and not so long ago I was a volunteer with the coast guard.” He was babbling but he wanted to reassure her his slip had been nothing more than an accident.

  “I’ve never been on anything more than a ferry before this.” The wind got inside her pashmina and she shivered.

  “The deck is quite breezy. I think we’re going a bit faster than we were earlier.” He glanced at the water again, wishing she’d go away.

  “It is a bit cold.” She took a couple of steps away from the rail. “It’s better over here near the wall.”

  He hesitated, trying to clear the turmoil from his mind. He gave a small shake of his head as if that would help.

  “Please come away from the rail, Jim.”

  Her look was imploring now. Mutely he did as she bid.

  “Have you cruised before?” she asked.

  Pain stabbed at him again. He shook his head. “My wife and I had planned to but…we didn’t get the chance before she…”

  “This is my first cruise too.” She filled the silence. “I’m with a friend…well, more an acquaintance really. We play bowls together but what do you truly know about someone?”

  “You’re a bowler?” That was a less painful topic.

  “Yes. Do you play?”

  “I did. Only socially, night owls they called it.”

  “That’s how I started.”

  They came to a stop in front of the heavy glass doors that led inside. He looked at them in surprise. Celia had been slowly walking back along the deck and he’d followed her.

  She paused. Jim hoped she would go inside and leave him alone now but she hesitated.

  “I was a bit concerned by the behaviour of a group of young men earlier,” she blurted.

  He looked around, his eyes taking in the empty deck as if he was seeing it for the first time. “Perhaps we should tell someone if you’ve been bothered.”

  “Oh, they didn’t do any harm. Just a bit much to drink, I think.”

  “I see.” He frowned, wondering why she’d bothered to tell him.

  “It’s just that…” Celia chewed her lip and blushed. “I hope you don’t think I’m propositioning you or anything but I wondered if you’d walk with me back to my part of the ship?”

  “I should turn in now myself.” He pulled open the heavy door for her. His legs were still feeling wobbly after his near miss. “What deck are you on?”

  “Nine.”

  “Me too, so we’re going in the same direction anyway.” He gave her the briefest of smiles as she stepped past him to the interior.

  “The food was delicious tonight, wasn’t it?” she said.

  “Yes. I’m glad I went to dinner.” Jim pushed the button for the lift. “I thought I’d stay in my room but I discovered I was rather hungry by seven o’clock.”

  “The other people at our table are friendly.”

  He paused, embarrassed to think he could recall little about any of them. “Yes.”

  The lift arrived and their small talk ceased as they stepped inside to find several others already aboard. They were the only two to step out at deck nine.

  “I’m this way.” Celia pointed left.

  “And I’m this way.” Jim pointed right.

  “Well…thank you.”

  “Goodnight.” He nodded and turned away, relieved to be out from under her scrutiny.

  Ketty tucked her hair behind her ears, grateful for the natural waves and the cutting skills of her hairdresser. It required so little effort to keep it tidy. She replaced her brush on the shelf, flicked off the light and stepped back into her cabin. It was neat, everything in its place. She removed her robe and slid between the sheets. There was only one dim light illuminating the room but she hesitated before switching it off. She knew sleep would elude her for a while even though she’d spent time preparing herself with a warm shower and a cup of milky tea. The book she’d brought with her had helped pass the time but it was nearly midnight and she badly wanted to get some sleep even though the first night in a new bed was always bound to be restless.

  She reached out, switched off the light and rolled over. The curtains were drawn across her balcony to keep out the light of the moon but there was a glow around the edges. She closed her eyes and took slow deep breaths. Two minutes later she was on her back. Perhaps counting sheep would do the trick although her favourite animal had to be cats. Trying to count them did not bring on the slightest desire for sleep.

  She rolled to her other side and started reciting her times tables but she forgot to stop at twelve for the threes and started to muddle them up once she got past one hundred. There was no point in continuing, she was still not the slightest bit sleepy.

  Her thoughts drifted to the days ahead. She’d been on this particular route five times before and she hadn’t tired of the South Pacific islands they would visit. On her first trip to Vanuatu she’d been on this same ship and sharing an interior cabin with her girlfriend, Felicity. That had been nineteen eighty-two and, of all their friends, they had been the last two remaining singles. On their return Felicity’s boyfriend had proposed, while Ketty’s life had fallen apart.

  On her back again, eyes wide open, Ketty felt the pain like it was yesterday. What was it about this cruise that was making her so melancholy, hearing voices that weren’t there? She wondered where Leo was these days, what he had made of his life, what he looked like now.

  They’d met in Adelaide during the Festival of Arts, in the foyer of the Festival Theatre at a late-night jazz event. He was sneaking out for a smoke, her to the loo and they’d literally bumped into each other. He’d laughed, made a joke, exuding confidence and she’d been in awe of him, already falling in love. They’d gone to several other Festival events together that year. They both worked long hours, he was several years older than her but doing a uni course outside his work as a financial planner. She was busy learning the dressmaking trade and doing extra tech courses but in the times they could be together they made the most of it. Leo had wooed her, they’d become lovers and had lived in their own delicious bubble of snatched opportunities for almost a year.

  Only a year of her life but it had been one of the best. She could still recall the strength of his presence, the stare of his pale green eyes. Such vivid memories after all this time. There had been other men in her life since but no one like Leo, and yet it had all ended so badly. After her initial hurt and grief had come the anger. It had fuelled her for a long time. She’d wanted a husband and
children then but it hadn’t happened and once she’d come to terms with that, she had created a life that had been happy and rewarding but now…well, now she wondered what might have been had circumstances been different.

  Ketty slipped lower down the pillows and her eyelids drooped. She took long slow breaths as she felt her limbs relax. At last sleep was edging closer and as she drifted off, a pair of twinkling green eyes hovered just beyond consciousness.

  Six

  Day Two – At Sea

  Maude was still sleeping when Celia let herself quietly into the bathroom to have a shower. It had been a difficult night with Maude snoring, from both ends at times, and Celia didn’t feel rested at all. She fiddled with the unfamiliar taps to get the water temperature right and stepped in. Once inside the miniscule cubicle she closed her eyes as the steam caressed her face then turned her back so the powerful flow could pummel her neck and shoulders. It felt luxurious to have some time truly alone.

  She needed space to think. Somehow, she had to come up with a plan to show her ex-husband she had done brilliantly well without him. She was no longer the downtrodden wife he’d evicted for a younger model. She was Celebrity Celia. She’d thought of the title during the night and it had given her confidence so she’d kept saying it to herself.

  “Celebrity Celia.” She threw out her arms as she said it. “Damn!” Her right elbow hit the wall of the shower. She clutched it in her hand and thought about what she had to do. Bernard could be her escort and then she had to track down Ed at the right moment and look positively carefree and radiant on Bedazzling Bernard’s arm. She’d thought of that name in the night as well but she’d been feeling really tired by then.

  She turned off the taps and flung back the shower curtain. The tiny room was full of steam. She dragged her damp hair back from her forehead, her enthusiasm waning. How had she thought she would, firstly, find Ed among two thousand passengers spread across several floors and deck space and, secondly, convince Bernard to play along?

  She rubbed a patch of steam from the mirror with her towel. She looked absolutely washed out. She pinched her cheeks, pouted her lips then pressed a finger to her cheek.

  “Oh, Bernard you are so funny.” She attempted to titter and broke into a cough. She leaned closer to the mirror. How had Maude done that fluttering eyelids thing?

  “Oh, Bernard, what strong arms you have.” Celia blinked several times then spent the next few minutes removing an eyelash from her eye.

  She groaned, now her left eye was red.

  She wrapped herself in a towel, gave one last attempt at a coy look and a giggle then opened the door and came face to face with Maude.

  “I was just coming to see if you were all right in there.” Maude peered over Celia’s shoulder. “What was that noise?”

  Celia stepped around her. “I was singing.”

  “Sounded more like a choking cat.” Maude glanced back at her. “Have you finished in here?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll have a shower and we can go to breakfast.”

  Celia dressed quickly, spending a little more time on getting her hair and make-up right, then scribbled a note to Maude saying she’d meet her in the dining room for breakfast. What she hadn’t said was she was going to find Bernard’s cabin on the way. Last night she’d heard him talking to his daughter about their rooms. Christine had been annoyed about her room being such a distance from her father’s. Turns out they were only several cabins apart. They’d mentioned level nine and the room numbers had been even and not much higher than hers which meant Bernard was along her patch of corridor somewhere. She hoped she’d find him still in his room.

  The stewards were busy, their loaded trolleys dotted along the passage and their morning routine underway. Celia smiled at Maria who was looking after her room.

  “Good morning, Mrs Braxton,” she said in her singsong voice.

  Celia moved away, trying not to look as if she was checking the names by each door. She found Bernard’s name before she’d gone too far on the sea side of the corridor. Lucky Bernard had a balcony cabin. She knocked. Her heart raced. She hadn’t thought through what she’d say.

  She jumped as the door beside her opened and an older couple came out of the cabin next door, wished her good morning and set off along the corridor. Celia steeled herself and knocked again but there was no answer.

  “Damn it,” she muttered.

  “Everything all right, ma’am?” Maria asked, her face full of concern.

  “Oh, yes, thank you. Just hoping to catch a friend I met at dinner last night.”

  “Mr Langdon has already left his cabin, ma’am.”

  “Thank you, Maria.”

  Celia set off back along the corridor. Perhaps she’d find him at breakfast but he could be anywhere. She was headed to the dining room. The idea of being waited on silver-service style had appealed to her rather than the buffet that had been Maude’s choice. They had agreed to alternate. The only problem for Celia was she imagined Ed would prefer the dining room too and there was only one open for breakfast. Her hair was longer now than when they’d been together and lighter in colour. She just had to wear her sunglasses and hope for the best.

  “Seating for one, madam?”

  “Oh, yes.” Celia glanced behind her.

  “Do you wish to sit with other people?”

  Celia turned back to the maître d’ who was smiling patiently.

  “No…yes.”

  He raised an eyebrow ever so slightly.

  “Yes, thank you.” She gave a firm nod.

  He waved at a waiter. “Table seven for this lady please.”

  Celia kept her dark glasses on and her head lowered, all the while watching in case she saw Ed or Bernard or both.

  The only person she recognised was the woman from last night’s dinner, sitting at a table with several different people. What had been her name? Betty? No, Ketty. A rather nosey woman with an intense stare, she’d asked lots of questions and when Celia thought back had revealed little about herself. Celia had thought the purple dress she’d been wearing last night rather over the top for a simple first night dinner and now here she was at breakfast looking like she’d stepped out of a vintage fashion magazine in a lovely linen top that sat at her waist and a pair of white pants.

  Ketty looked up as she passed and smiled. Celia gave a brief nod in response and crossed to the table the waiter indicated where four others were already seated. She let out a sigh and slipped into her seat at the end of the table with her back to the room. None of them were Ed.

  Everyone introduced themselves, another lot of names. Celia was beginning to wish they could all wear name badges like the staff.

  An hour later she was replete after tropical fruit and yoghurt followed by a buttery croissant and then a delicate and unctuous sticky bun and was on her second cup of coffee listening to the suggestions for sightseeing in Noumea. One of the couples she was sharing the table with had been there before.

  “Here you are.”

  Celia looked up in surprise at Maude’s frowning face.

  “I didn’t know you were tucked away in this corner or I would have joined you.” Maude waved a hand in the air. “They took me to the other side of the dining room.”

  The other four said their goodbyes and left the table as Maude lowered herself into an empty seat beside Celia. “Why are you wearing sunglasses?”

  “I’ve got a sore eye.” It wasn’t really a lie, her left eye had stung after the eyelash incident. Celia changed the subject. “What did you have for breakfast?”

  “Just coffee and some toast. I didn’t feel like anything else.” Maude looked pointedly at her watch. “Aren’t we supposed to be at this destination presentation?”

  Celia glanced at hers. “There’s still plenty of time.”

  “Humph. My table were a toffy lot. Not on for a chat at all. And the waiters were rather aloof and brought me tea instead of coffee the first time.” Maude rose unsteadily to her f
eet. “We’d better go.”

  Celia followed her friend out into the atrium where Maude paused, put a hand to her back and groaned. From that and her sour mood Celia assumed last night’s good time was clearly giving her grief this morning.

  “We should come back and look here after,” Maude said as they passed by the glass-walled boutiques.

  “I like these.” Celia stopped by a rack full of floaty shirts set up outside the door of a clothing shop.

  Maude rummaged through another rack of shirts. “What about this?” She held up an aqua blue linen-look shirt. “Just the thing for cruising.”

  Celia glanced up. Beyond Maude and the glass front she caught sight of a man who turned her blood to ice. It was Ed. He was in the boutique next door leaning over a display of handbags of all things.

  Celia ducked her head and grabbed Maude’s arm. “We’ll come back later.”

  “Hang on.” Maude shoved the shirt back on the rack as Celia tried to drag her away. “What’s the rush all of a sudden?”

  “We want to get a good seat in the theatre.” Celia strode towards the stairs.

  “Steady up.” Maude was puffing behind her by the time they reached the theatre.

  Celia slowed, her own breath coming in quick bursts. All the plotting and planning had kept her busy for so long that it had been a shock to actually see Ed in the flesh. And he’d looked good, damn him. She’d hoped marrying a younger woman might have left him looking haggard. No fool like an old fool was the thought that sustained her through the dark days when she’d raged between despair and jealousy. Now, from her brief glimpse of him, he’d looked fit and well, exceptionally so.

  “I thought you were in a hurry,” Maude said. “Shall we sit in the middle down the front?”

  “No.” Celia turned left. “Side aisle towards the back is always best.” She moved on to the wall end of the row.

  Maude gave her an odd look and sat down beside her. “We rushed so we could get a back seat?”

  Celia ignored her, lowered the seat and slumped down. This business of trying to one-up Ed was fraught with more difficulty than she’d imagined.