by C. A. Larmer
“I’ve never done one before, you know. There’s dozens of forms to complete, a body to be quarantined, the nearest local authorities contacted. I want to get this right.”
“Sure, I get it, sorry.” She gave his arm a little rub. “So how does it work, do they dock somewhere and get her off?”
“It’s out of the question now, I’m afraid. We’re in the middle of the Tasman Sea. They do have a small morgue on board for such an event; it’s in the same location as the ship’s original ice room, apparently. We’ve put her in there for now.” He stopped. “Don’t look so shocked, Alicia. All cruise ships have morgues. Deaths are more common than you realise, what with all the elderly passengers on board.”
“Just tell me it’s not the same room where they source the ice for my gin and tonic?”
He looked as though he wasn’t sure if she was joking for a moment, then his face creased into that breathtaking smile, and he said, “Perhaps you’d best stick to the champers for a bit.”
She laughed. “Good advice.”
“And here’s some more where that came from: go, relax, have some fun, one of us has got to.”
She promised him she would and was just heading back to the elevator when he called out to her.
“Cabin S38!” She looked back. “Why don’t we meet there for a predinner drink, 6:00 p.m. sharp?”
“That’s your cabin?” It sounded like a stateroom; she hadn’t realised he was living it up.
Anders cocked his head to the side. “No, I thought we’d raid someone else’s minibar. Of course it’s my cabin. See you then.”
She laughed again as she entered the elevator. Lynette and Perry were wrong about Anders. He’d just made two jokes, and they weren’t half bad.
Chapter 8
“You have got to be joking!” said Millie, or was it Tillie, now wielding a shuffleboard cue on the upper deck. “I saw Cecilia dancing last night. She was as fit as an ox. No way she had a heart attack!”
“You can be fit and still have a dodgy ticker,” Missy replied. “My Uncle Paul was a boxing champ, fit as a fighter.” She stopped and giggled, her cherry-red ringlets bobbing about below her spotted headband. “Well, he was a fighter, but you get my drift, duckies! Dropped dead at the age of fifty. His heart was like a ticking time bomb, they said, just waiting to go off.”
“The only thing off about all of this is that diagnosis,” the other sister replied.
It was hard to tell them apart now that they were wearing matching tracksuits and caps sporting the words: Solarno Fine Meats: 50th anniversary.
“Hey, Dr Anders is a professional,” Alicia shot back. “He knows what he’s doing.”
The sisters shared a look, and Alicia felt her hackles rise.
“Something strange is definitely going down on this ship,” said the first sister (Tillie as it turns out). “We had several women in sick bay just a few days ago, one was even stretchered off, and now poor Cec’.”
“What are you thinking?” asked Claire. “Food poisoning? Norovirus?”
“Whatever it is, they’re not telling us, right Mil’?” Her sister nodded. “Now watch me land this one!”
Tillie grabbed a cue and pushed the heavy disc along the deck and did exactly as she said, the disc landing in the small triangle at the top.
Her sister cheered triumphantly, and Claire pouted.
Millie offered her a sympathetic smile. “Don’t let us put you off now, young lady. We’ve been playing this game for decades. Even won the QE2 tournament back in 2012.”
“Oh yes!” said Tillie, pushing her spectacles back into place. “Do you remember how cranky Dame Dinnegan was that day?” She snorted. “She was with husband number… what? Two back then?” She glanced at her sister, who just shrugged. “He was even crankier. My goodness, it was like we’d robbed his poor wife of Olympic gold! Of course she wasn’t in the wheelchair back then and put on a pretty good show.”
“But not good enough to beat us!” Millie said. “Now, enough chat, who’s up for another frame?”
“Me!” said Perry and Claire together, but Missy was tapping her chunky pink watch.
“Whoever wants to make the history lecture in the conference room had better bow out now.”
Claire looked disappointed as she placed her cue back and thanked everyone for the game. She then followed Missy and Alicia along the deck and back inside towards a small room just off the Grand Salon where the lecture was getting underway.
“Built in Glasgow in 1879, the SS Orient was first designed to transport passengers from England to Australia,” explained a young woman standing at a lectern at the front of the room. “It was also used to transport royal mail and various goods, including cattle would you believe?”
She paused so the gathering could chuckle.
“When registered it was the second largest ship in the world, and one of the fastest, setting a London-to-Adelaide record of just under thirty-eight days. Her maiden voyage was between London and Melbourne via the Suez Canal in November 1879. She was also built to military specifications and was later used as a troop ship during the Boer War before being scrapped for metal in Italy in 1910.”
This time a murmur broke out around the room, and the lecturer nodded her head vigorously. “It does feel like this ship has come straight out of the 1800s, doesn’t it? But in fact it’s a replica of the original, and while it’s true in so many details, behind the English Renaissance façade is a very modern vessel, I can assure you of that. We have state-of-the-art gas turbine engines to ensure you have the safest, swiftest passage possible. And unlike the original, we no longer have lowly third-class berths, mostly because none of us have butlers and maids to accommodate these days, more’s the pity.”
Again she paused for the predicted chuckle.
“Most of the third-class space, which is well below sea level, is now used to accommodate the other modern touches we just know you guys can’t live without, like our fabulous gymnasium and spa as well as the fully equipped medical centre.”
As the lecturer continued waxing lyrical about the various attributes of the ship, Alicia couldn’t help stifling a yawn. She glanced across at Claire and Missy, who were both enthralled, and wished she felt the same. She just couldn’t focus today, and she had no idea why. She leaned back in her seat and stared out the porthole, watching as a bald man tossed what looked like a ring of rope past the window.
Alicia was just considering sneaking out when the lecturer added, “The original ship had several horrendous deaths, including a stoker who died from heat exhaustion after trying to race a rival ship at the Suez. Oh and an elderly lady died of a heart attack apparently, while under arrest for pilfering jewels. Isn’t that a fabulous story?”
The crowd murmured again, and she laughed. “Yes, according to reports, the heart attack was brought on by, and I quote, ‘The excitement of the accusation’!”
Missy looked like she was about to have a heart attack of her own upon hearing this and whispered to the others, “I wonder if the lady in cabin S31 was pilfering jewels?”
Claire rolled her eyes as Alicia scoffed. “That all happened a long time ago, Missy.”
“Still, it makes you think doesn’t it?”
“It makes me want to get back to my book,” she replied. “I’m going to check out the library. I’ll catch up with you guys later.”
She snuck out quietly and then back to her cabin to fetch her Agatha Christie novel before making her way to the lower deck where the library was located. As she made her way there, she told herself it wasn’t because the library was a few doors down from the medical centre. Still, she couldn’t help stealing a glance in that direction when she stepped out of the elevator.
The surgery looked busy now, with several pasty-looking patients slumped in chairs, one with a bucket in his hands, and she gave it a wide berth, following the signs in the opposite direction towards the King Edward VII Library.
The door to the library was located h
alfway down that carriageway, and Alicia noticed a small sign for the Freddie Tait Gymnasium further down, and beyond that a side stairwell marked ‘Exit’. Curious, she continued on to take a quick look. Relatively small for a ship’s gym, it was nonetheless well equipped with various torturous looking machines including two exercise bikes, a Stairmaster and three walking machines, all of which were occupied. A small plaque by the door informed her that the gymnasium had been named after a dapper looking Scottish gentleman, a champion golfer who also happened to be a former passenger killed during the Boer War.
She spotted a young man in a white tracksuit taking several men through their paces, and he looked up and smiled, waving a hand to encourage her in, but she quickly shook her head and returned to the library.
This was more her style.
The room was just as you’d expect the library of the original SS Orient to look, with shiny wood panelling and shelves of mostly leather-bound books. There were various tables and chairs set up as well as several plush armchairs and a vintage Chesterfield leather lounge suite with a magnificent wooden globe beside it. This room was also well occupied, and she spotted several tables of people, two playing chess, others playing backgammon, one completing an old-fashioned jigsaw puzzle.
Upon closer inspection, she recognised the man from her deck, the one with the tan that would give an orangutan a run for its money, and she nodded her head when he looked up from his book, then made her way to one of the arm chairs. Sinking into it, she pulled out her copy of Murder on the Orient Express and opened to the first part.
Within minutes Alicia was stepping onto a luxury train carriage with thirteen suspicious-looking passengers and one Hercule Poirot.
Chapter 9
It didn’t take a Belgian detective to deduce that cabin S38 was empty.
Still, Alicia kept knocking, her hope and happiness waning with every blow. It was 6:09 p.m., and Dr Anders was not answering his door. Having donned the sexiest cocktail dress she could find (Lynette’s of course) and the strappiest pair of heels (also Lynette’s), she’d coiffed her hair and coloured in her face and tried every trick in the book to look as enticing as possible.
And now it seemed it was all in vain.
Alicia banged again, louder this time in case Anders was distracted by romantic music or champagne corks popping or something! Yet the door stared back at her, stubbornly immobile. She continued to knock with less and less enthusiasm for a final minute before swallowing her disappointment and making her way down to the surgery again.
There Nurse Mandy firmly shook her head and said, “The last time I saw Dr Anders he was heading off with Mrs Van Tussi.”
She might as well have said, “Give up now, girl. He’s in love with someone else” for the effect those words had on Alicia heart. She felt gutted, empty. Angry.
“Oh, right,” Alicia managed before wedging a smile on her lips and asking, “Any idea where they went?”
“Bar maybe?” Nurse Mandy glanced down to Alicia’s attire and back up to her face, a flicker of sympathy in her eyes. “I have a pager for him if you’re desperate.”
“No, I’m not desperate! Thank you very much.”
She fled from the surgery before the nurse could see the blush of humiliation sweeping across her face. Alicia knew she was being irrational. Anders would hardly fob her off on purpose, surely? Maybe there was another emergency; maybe he’d simply forgotten their date?
Well I’ll help him remember, she decided, haughtily, and made a beeline for the bar.
Once Alicia got to the Grand Salon, however, both Anders and Corrie were nowhere to be found. The room was half-full, mostly with guests already dressed formally and squeezing in predinner cocktails. She glanced around but couldn’t see anyone she recognised, so she decided to ask the bar staff. Perhaps they had spotted him earlier.
Alicia made her way across to the circular bar where one barman was loading up a cocktail shaker while another was just handing a sherry to a tiny lady with a silky white bob. He thanked her, then glanced across at Alicia, his eyebrows rising at the same time as hers. It was the rude barman. Again.
“Evening, Madame,” he said. “What can I get you this evening?”
“Oh? No smart comment tonight?”
He ignored this and just waited for her order, so she said, “Champagne cocktail, thanks.”
The barman wasn’t as surprised by the order as Alicia was. Never one for drinking alone, she suddenly had an insatiable desire to get drunk. Very drunk. And she didn’t care whether she had company or not.
As soon as the drink arrived, she downed it in one and then ordered another.
“So what’s your room number?” he said.
“In your dreams, buddy,” she shot back, and he stared at her poker-faced.
“For the drinks, Madame. What room should I charge them to?”
“Oh, right.” She blushed. Oh God, just swallow me now. “Um, cabin L22, thanks.”
After a moment’s thought she said, “Actually, scrap that. Let’s put them on S38, shall we? Under the name Anders Bright. He promised me a predinner drink, and he can bloody well pay. Speaking of which, have you seen the good doctor lately?”
“You mean the new doc we’ve got on board, the really straight one?”
She blinked back at him. “He’s not straight.”
“Oh, so he’s gay then?”
She gasped. “No, that’s not what I meant… I just meant that he’s fun, he can let loose… well, not loose so much as…”
He looked mildly amused. “I haven’t seen him. Why? Do you need a doctor?”
She blinked more rapidly this time. “Not at all! Don’t need him one little bit!” Then she clicked her empty glass with one nail indicating her order, and he bowed his head and went to fetch a fresh bottle of champagne.
Alicia was onto her third glass—a lot for the eldest Finlay girl on an empty stomach—when she felt a light tap on her shoulder. She turned to find Lynette standing there.
“We’ve been waiting for you, sweetie, in the restaurant. Are you coming in?”
“Just having a drink with myself, Lynny, somebody’s got to.”
“Where were you? Anders came over looking for you, said he’d missed your rendezvous and was wondering where you’d got to.”
“Where I’d got to? Where the hell was he?”
“Dunno but he’s at the captain’s table now, eating dinner. Which is what you should be doing.”
Alicia gulped her drink then called out to the barman, “Hey, cranky pants! I’m sure my stunning sister here would also like a champers. Lynette?”
Lynette squinted at her, then glanced at the barman, who was looking more than amused and shook her head. “No thanks.” She turned back to Alicia. “We’ve got plenty of wine at the table, Alicia. Why don’t you come join us?”
Alicia ignored this, so Lynette perched on the stool beside her.
“You okay?”
Alicia made a pft! sound and waved a hand about. “Never better! This cruise is going to be fun!” She turned to the barman. “Don’t worry about this woman; she’s not interested in you. So don’t even waste your sad-arse time!”
He shared a sympathetic look with Lynette before saying, “Duly noted.”
Lynette watched her closely for a few minutes. “Lis’, you’re missing an amazing meal. There’s lobster on the menu tonight. In fact, they’re probably serving it as we speak.”
“You go, honey. Eat! Enjoy!”
“I’d enjoy it a lot more if you were with me. Please?”
Alicia saw that her sister was serious and sighed. “Fine, I’m coming, I’m coming. Just… just give me a minute, ’kay?”
“I’ll stay with you.”
“No, no, go and eat. The lobster will be getting cold!”
“It’s already cold, honey. That’s how they serve it.”
“Right, well, that’s why you’re the fabulous chef and I’m the useless editor who can’t even keep a boyfriend.
Go eat. I won’t be long, I promise. I’ll finish this and be there before you can say ‘traitor!’”
Lynette shot a worried look at the barman then turned and left her sitting there, sulking into her glass.
“Peanuts,” the barman said pushing the bowl in front of her.
It was a suggestion more than an offer, and she pushed it back then flopped her head into her hands and watched him for several minutes. The place had now cleared out, everyone in the main dining room, and she studied the barman as he cleaned the bench top and polished the glasses.
Eventually she said, “Aren’t you a little old to be working behind a bar?”
He stopped polishing and stared back at her. “Aren’t you a little young to be holidaying with your spinster sister?”
She gasped. “You are the rudest barman I have ever met!”
He laughed and said, “Sorry,” not looking at all apologetic. “People skills aren’t my forte.”
“You don’t say! I think you need a new vocation.” She squinted at him. “So why are you working behind the bar of a cruise ship then?”
He shrugged. “Just desperate I guess.”
“That’s one word for it. I’d better go before Lynny gets her lasso out.” Glancing at her champagne glass she said, “Can I take this with me to the restaurant?”
He just shrugged, like he didn’t have a clue or didn’t really care, and she laughed again. He really was terrible at his job! At this rate his tip jar would remain empty.
Standing a little unsteadily, she snatched up her glass then leaned in towards him and spluttered, “And I’ll have you know I’m not holidaying with my sister. I’m holidaying with my book club!”
As she stumbled out of the bar, it dawned on Alicia that that probably wasn’t any cooler, and his smarmy smile only seemed to confirm it.
Chapter 10
Perhaps it was the muffled voices and the distant slamming of doors that first woke Alicia from a thirsty sleep, or perhaps it was the sudden lurching of the ship, a movement that almost toppled her from her bed; but there was one thing she knew for certain. She had a hangover the size of the hull.