She turned left and then right, looking critically over the ensemble that she’d put together.
True, she had given it her best go. But seeing as she didn’t know that she was supposed to pack formalwear, and so hadn’t packed any, how on earth was she supposed to put together an outfit suitable for a ball?
Her reflection peered back at her. The woman in the glass wore a shockingly pink top. Too pink? wondered Lorna. And a black skort, and black and white necklace. On her ears, Lorna was sporting her best earrings: obsidian studs. I look like I could be going out to lunch, or even to a tennis lesson, thought Lorna ruefully.
Oh well. At least Betty will be underdressed as well.
This was not the case. When Lorna stepped out of the bathroom into the suite, she spotted Betty, standing in front of the windows.
Betty was wearing a long, flowing golden gown that dusted the bottom of the floor. On Betty’s head was perched a hat with a little tuft of feathers. The hat was tilted fashionably to the side.
“Look at you!” exclaimed Lorna. “Now this just isn’t fair. Where did you come up with this outfit?”
“I borrowed it from Muriel when I dropped off Sir-Eats-Alot,” Betty said with a grin. “You should have seen her closet. It’s astounding. She was eager to show it off, and I was more than happy to take a dress off her hands.”
In addition to an interest in one-act plays, Muriel Clitheroe also had a passion for fashion. The two—theater and fashion—often go together, you know. Muriel’s flair for stylish dress had come about around the same time that she divorced her husband. She chose to channel her anger towards the cheating oaf into putting together eye-catching vintage outfits.
And now, Betty was benefitting from Muriel’s chosen hobby. The golden ball gown was a sight to behold. Betty performed a spin. “How does it look?” she asked.
“Magnificent. In all the time I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you so dressed up!”
Betty was pleased by this. “Well, sitting round playing board games doesn’t require formalwear,” Betty said with a laugh. “A Captain’s Ball on the other hand…that’s another story altogether.”
Lorna was feeling sorry for herself. But as she watched Betty laugh and twirl for a second time in front of the bank of windows overlooking the sea, she started to feel better. It was impossible to feel upset while watching her happy friend in front of the glittering sunset.
“What do you think it will be like?” Betty asked in excitement. “Will the captain be there? We have barely seen him all week.”
It was true. This was the last night of the cruise, and Lorna had only spotted Lou Gasparini once. He’d been walking along the uppermost level of the deck, talking on a cellphone. Lorna had been curious about what he was saying, so she’d used her powers of heightened hearing to do a tad bit of eavesdropping.
The conversation was nothing exciting; the captain was discussing his retirement investments with a banker of some sort. Lorna had soon tired of listening in on the dry conversation filled with percentages and confusing terms like “index fund” and “ROI.”
“I hope so. I expect it, actually, since the entire event is named after him,” Lorna said. “I also think that the other crew members will be there. I wonder if Al would say “yes” to a dance with me?” Despite her lack of formalwear, she was becoming more and more excited about the evening ahead.
It turned out that Al would not say “yes” to a dance with her. He had no choice. His dance card was full. It seemed that every eligible woman aboard the Mariasca was lined up and waiting for a chance to dance with him.
“We should have known,” said Betty with a laugh when Lorna described the line of ladies. “He’s the most popular man aboard.”
“Must be all of those tattoos,” said Lorna. “Women love tattoos these days.”
“They carry mystique,” Betty agreed. “Us women love a good dose of mystique, don’t we?”
For a moment, Lorna thought of Cliff Miller, the man she’d almost married back in Tallahassee. Yes, he’d mystified her a bit at first. She had been curious about what made him tick, but the more she learned about him, the less she liked him. He’d turned out to be a liar and a cheat.
“Not me,” said Lorna. “I like a man who is very upfront about everything. A ‘what you see is what you get’ kind of guy. I don’t like surprises.”
“To each his own,” Betty said. “What else is going on out there?”
Lorna surveyed the scene. The ballroom was very ornate. Compared to the traditional, stately decor of the old bar where they’d eaten dinner each night, the ballroom was opulent. While the bar was all polished wood and leather, the ballroom was decked out in gold, brass, and red velvet. Sparkling chandeliers hung down from the ceiling, casting a warm glow over the room.
“I see Earl and Carol Anne,” Lorna said, acting as her friend’s eyes. “Carol Anne is in a bright yellow gown and looks quite festive. Earl seems to have chosen to keep his tennis clothes on.”
Betty laughed. “He’s always ready to play,” she said.
“And there’s our friend Charlie,” Lorna said. Charlie was standing by the bar, off to one side of the ballroom. As usual, he wore an oversized Hawaiian shirt and had a drink in hand.
Lorna was starting to feel better and better about her attire. At least she wasn’t the only one who was dressed casually.
Lorna continued scanning the room. “Oh, and there’s Vice-Captain Leon. He does clean up nicely.”
The vice-captain wore a full tuxedo. From afar he looked quite sharp, but Lorna would wager all of her precious magazines that upon closer examination, one would see that the suit was wrinkled. The vice-captain always seemed to be just a tad disheveled and distracted.
She continued to watch him as she painted the scene for Betty. “He’s walking away from the bar. He has a drink in his hand. There’s six…no, seven…seven girls trailing after him. One’s caught up with him now, and they’re talking. I think she’s asking him to dance with her. Oh my, she’s quite persistent.” Lorna laughed. She remembered what it had been like to be young and have a crush on someone.
“Seven girls?!” giggled Betty. “He has himself a real following.”
“Not like Al, but pretty close,” said Lorna. “Yes, now they’re heading out to the dance floor. Leon is looking around, as if he’s checking for someone. He always seems to be looking for someone.”
“I wonder who?” said Betty.
“Me too,” Lorna said, just as she felt a tap on her shoulder.
She turned.
“I thought that was you!” Charlie said, beaming at her. “How are you tonight, Lorna? And Betty! Ready to arrive at home port tomorrow?”
Lorna emitted a soft sigh. “I’ll miss the Mariasca,” she said.
“But it will be nice to get home,” Betty chimed in.
“Nothing like a good vacation to remind you of what you have to be grateful for in your own life,” Charlie said.
Lorna nodded. Though Charlie was a lush, he always seemed to spout off deep truths without a second thought. Lorna was growing quite fond of him. “Very true,” she murmured.
“Look at Leon,” Charlie said, pointing out towards the vice-captain. “He’s going to be out there dancing all night! It’s part of the staff’s duties, you know, to mingle with the guests during the Captain’s Ball. It’s tradition.”
Lorna enjoyed getting the inside scoop from Charlie. She encouraged him. “You know so much about the staff, don’t you?” she asked. It didn’t hurt to throw in a compliment now and then—to grease the wheel, so to speak. Charlie needed very little ‘lubricating’. He was more than ready to share gossip about the staff.
He continued. “You know our Leon’s forty-three? I went to his birthday party, just last month. And there he is, stuck dancing with a girl who looks like a teenager. Happens every time. All of the teens fantasize over him. Every time the Mariasca leaves Barcelona, it’s a sure thing that at least twenty-five percent of th
e women will develop feelings for the vice-captain.”
“You should publish a study,” teased Betty. “It sounds like you’ve done a statistical analysis.”
“Oh, I don’t know how accurate my numbers are.” Charlie hitched up his pants with one hand as he laughed along with Betty’s joke. “All I know is that Leon Thomas is a real favorite among the ladies. Especially the younger set.”
The music died down, and when the next song came on, Charlie offered up his hand to Lorna. “Care to dance?” he asked.
Lorna looked over at Betty. Sure, dancing sounded fun, but she also didn’t want to abandon her friend.
“Go on,” Betty said. “I’ll take the next one.”
The evening went on like this: first Charlie and Lorna sharing a dance, and then Charlie and Betty. After a half-dozen dances, Charlie took off to quench his growing thirst. It seemed that in his opinion, dancing—like every other activity on the ship—was best with frequent drinking breaks.
“Whew,” said Betty, after whirling off of the dance floor. “Dancing takes a lot out of you!”
“I’ve worked up a sweat,” Lorna admitted.
“Let’s get some fresh air.” Betty took off her feathered hat and fanned her face with it. “It must be eighty degrees in here!”
“Probably because there are so many people,” Lorna said. As the evening had continued, the ballroom had become more and more packed with passengers and crew. Lorna guessed that all one thousand of the ship’s passengers and fifty of the crew were present in the ballroom. Soon she would learn that at least one person was not present at that exact moment.
Lorna followed Betty outside.
The night air had to be ten degrees cooler. The sea was inky black all around them, perfectly matching Lorna’s obsidian studs. Stars twinkled in the velvety blue sky above. A full moon cast a column of sparkling, pale light over the water.
“What a beautiful night,” Lorna said, describing the colors to Betty. “I feel so happy. And everyone is so celebratory tonight. I don’t think I’ve ever been around so many happy people all at once.”
“I think you’ve spoken too soon,” Betty said.
“What do you mean?” Lorna asked.
Betty paused and pointed a single finger into the air. She tilted her head to the side, cocking her ear up, clearly listening intently.
Lorna opened her mouth to speak, but Betty interrupted her. “Wait for it,” Betty insisted.
Just then, a cry floated through the night air. It sounded like someone was sobbing but trying to muffle the sound of it.
“What is that?” Lorna asked.
“It seems that not everyone on this ship is happy tonight,” Betty said.
“I think it’s coming from somewhere around the corner,” Lorna said. She wrapped her arm through Betty’s proffered elbow and began leading the way towards the spot from whence the sound was coming.
The deck was about thirty feet wide and went entirely around the periphery of the ship. There was a tall railing around the deck. When looking over the railing, one could see the open-air decks below.
At first, Lorna wondered if the muffled sobs were coming from below deck, but as she guided Betty around a corner, she saw that she was wrong. She and Betty would not have to venture below deck to find the source of the crying. In front of them, a girl was leaning against the ship’s railing and sobbing into her hand which covered her face.
“Oh dear,” said Lorna softly.
“She’s there?” Betty asked.
“Yes. Should we go talk to her?” Lorna asked.
Lorna and Betty didn’t have to make a decision on this point, because the crying girl overheard their whispers. The girl looked up. “Please, leave me alone,” she said.
Lorna glanced over at Betty and silently asked the question: Should we let her be?
Betty replied with a minuscule shake of her head. To any other person, it would have looked like a mere twitch. But Lorna could read her friend well.
You’re right; we’d better not, Lorna agreed. Suicide was not out of the realm of possibility. The girl was certainly distraught. The deck below looked like it was thirty feet down. If the crying girl chose to jump, she could easily break her neck or die in the fall.
“Why are you just standing there?!” the girl called out. “I said, please leave me alone!”
Lorna took a step forward, nearer to the crying girl. As she did, she could see the girl’s figure more clearly. Lorna recognized that figure. It was the lithe body of the Mariasca’s star dancer, Sandy Owens.
Sandy’s head was buried in her slender arms, which were folded along the deck’s railing. Her back heaved up and down as she sobbed.
As Lorna and Betty approached, Sandy looked up and spoke for a third time. “I said go away!” she called out.
Then, seeing that Lorna and Betty clearly had no intention of honoring her request, the girl gave up. “Oh, fine,” she spat out. “Go ahead, bother me all you want. What do I care? I don’t care about anything anymore.”
Lorna spoke up. “We only want to help.”
“It’s such a lovely night,” Betty said. “No one should feel upset, on a night like—”
“It is not a lovely night,” Sandy said before Betty could finish voicing her sentiment. “It’s a wretched night! The worst night ever. My life is over!” She threw her head into her hands and began sobbing anew.
“Now dear, don’t you think that’s being a little bit dramatic?” Lorna meant to soothe the girl, but her words had the opposite effect. The girl began sobbing even harder; even though Sandy kept her cries muffled, Lorna could tell by the way Sandy’s back heaved up and down.
Well that attempt at logic didn’t work, thought Lorna.
Betty stepped forward. Lorna waited to see what her neighbor would say. After all, Betty had raised a son of her own, though she rarely talked about him.
“There, there,” Betty said in a soothing, almost hypnotic tone. “So something has made you feel that your life is over at this moment. We understand. Why don’t you tell us what’s happened?”
Yes, this did the trick. The dancer lifted her head from her arms. Her pretty cheeks were stained with tears.
“I’m just so ashamed,” she said. “Angry at him, and ashamed at what I’ve done. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have…” Sandy’s voice trailed off.
“Ashamed about what?” Betty coaxed.
“He used me,” the pretty girl stated. She wiped her eyes. “And I cared so much about him. I wish I didn’t…but I did. And I still do!”
Betty stepped closer still. “There, there,” she said again, in the same hypnotic tone.
It was working! Lorna watched in amazement as the girl calmed down even more. She let Betty approach.
Lorna felt as though she was watching Marty Stouffer on Wild America—the nature show that she used to love back in Tallahassee. (That was when she had reliable television, of course.)
It was as though Betty was approaching a wild, upset, and untamed pony. And now, the beast was eating right out of Betty’s hand.
Betty held her arms out, and Sandy leaned in and accepted the hug.
Betty patted the dancer’s slender back, all the while cooing out comforts. “It’s okay. There, there, now. This too shall pass,” she said softly.
Lorna wished she was taking notes. She was witnessing a master class in human interaction.
After a moment, Sandy stepped back and wiped her eyes and then her nose. As she sniffled, she spoke. “It’s just, he’s such a—” She looked as though she wanted to spout off a vulgarity but had stopped herself. “Jerk,” she finished.
Lorna knew how that felt. When she first learned about Cliff’s lying and cheating ways, she’d had to hold back an obscenity or two herself.
“Who is, dear?” Lorna asked, unable to refrain. Her curiosity was getting the best of her.
Sandy looked over at Lorna with surprise. It was almost as though she’d forgotten that Lorna was there a
t all. Such was the power of Betty’s hypnotically soothing ways.
Sandy opened her mouth to speak. Lorna leaned in, eager to hear the dancer’s answer. But before a word emerged, the doors behind them burst open. A crowd of people started streaming out of the ballroom, some shouting “This way!” And others saying things like “It’s going to be such a lovely show!”
The distraction was so great that for a moment, Lorna forgot that Sandy was about to speak. All she could think about was the dozens of people pouring out onto the deck in high spirits. By the time Lorna remembered that Sandy had been about to reveal who had upset her so, the moment had passed.
Sandy was busy gathering herself. She wiped her eyes furiously and then stroked her hands over her blonde hair which was back in a ponytail. Then she straightened out the straps of her gown.
She had a reputation to uphold, after all. Aboard this ship, she was a celebrity. It would not be good to let her fans see her weakness. It was bad enough, she realized suddenly, that she’d revealed so much to these two strangers. Oh well, it had already happened; she couldn’t change it now. At least she hadn’t said more.
Lorna watched the girl spruce herself up. Sandy is intent on keeping up appearances, she thought.
A figure approached the three women. It was Charlie. He flashed a rum-soaked grin. “Ready for the show, Lorna?” he asked.
“What show is that?” Lorna asked.
“The fireworks, of course! The Captain’s Ball always ends with a fireworks display.”
His explanation was unnecessary. For just as he was saying these words, the sky behind him, over the open water, began erupting with plumes of bright, flashing lights. The sparkling blossoms of iridescences flashed against the velvety, star-speckled sky.
What followed was the best fireworks display Lorna had ever seen. Orange, green, red, and purple lights showered down over the ocean. As the trails of light cascaded down, they seemed to reach out and touch reflections on the water. It was magnificent.
A Witch On The High Seas: Merryweather Mysteries Page 5