Polly closed the gold book and carefully placed it back in her schoolbag along with her pen. She then dried her hair and put on her new dress and shoes before picking up Langdon and heading out of the door. On her way out of the cabin she suddenly remembered she had forgotten to take the pebble from the bathroom. She rushed back and picked it up and then placed it in her bag along with the other pebbles for safekeeping. She then closed the cabin door and headed quickly to the dining room. For she did not wish to keep Captain Hector Humdinger waiting.
The doors leading into the dining room where opened by two footmen who bowed as she entered. Polly giggled out of embarrassment as she found the pomp and ceremony a little bit excessive for her liking. Once in the dining room Polly found herself instantly mesmerized by the many breathtakingly magnificent chandeliers, as well as the impeccably-decorated banqueting tables that stretched as far as the eye could see.
“Absolutely exquisite,” followed by, “fit for a king,” was all she could mutter under her breath as she felt a rush of excitement that this night was going to be a truly special occasion, never to be repeated. As far as the eye could see there were long tables covered in pristine white tableclothes. They were adorned by the most visually stunning floral displays that dominated each table, and each display included just about every flower on the planet, which exuded the most delightful fragrances that filled the air with their sweetness. Each individual table had many tall and elaborately decorated elegant silver candelabras, with lighted candles that significantly added to the sense of grandeur and splendor of the dining room.
As Polly’s eyes scanned the long tables, she could see that every place setting had more than the usual amount of silver cutlery, and she guessed this was because the guests would make their way through endless different courses, similar to that of Uncle Boritz’s lavish New Year’s Eve dinners, only better. Every setting had a number of different sized handcut crystal glasses that gleamed under the lighting, and each setting had a personalized card with the name of each guest written on in beautiful lettering. In one corner of the room a string quartet was preparing to sit down and start entertaining the guests with sweet music. Many of the musicians were tightening their strings. As her eyes continued to feast on all the glitz and glamour of this banqueting hall, Polly found herself being escorted to the head table, where Captain Humdinger was already standing ready to welcome each guest that had been invited to join him at his table.
“Good evening, Polly” said the captain with a warm and most welcoming smile as he beckoned her to take a seat right beside him.
Polly smiled back before sliding as graciously as she was able onto the chair which had been pulled away from the table by one of the waiters.
“Well, Polly, you are in for a treat tonight, for the food on this ship is simply superb,” grinned the captain before declaring, “I am so hungry I could eat a whole stuffed pig.”
As Polly pictured the captain with bib and tucker under chin, and knife and fork ready to dig into a whole pig on an enormous silver platter, she made a grimace. The captain laughed and then went on to explain that his tennis match with Captain Plimsol had gone on for hours, because both were equally determined to win.
“We pretty much played a whole tournament!” declared the captain enthusiastically. “Right now I could eat a horse.”
“Who won?” inquired Polly gingerly.
“Me, of course,” said Captain Humdinger with a huge grin. “Captain Plimsol is a fine player, but he is no match for me, and I do have the added advantage of having tennis courts on this ship,” he confided. “I therefore have ample opportunity to improve my serve, although at times it has been a close shave. However, the day he does win will be the day I give up being the captain of this ship, although I have no intention of retiring from this beauty for many years to come,” he said with a glint in his eye. “Until that day comes, he will have to face losing every game.” With that said, Captain Humdinger picked up his glass of sherry and raised it in the air. “A toast to Captain Plimsol and many more games of tennis,” he said gleefully before downing the sherry in one triumphant gulp.
Just then more of the captain’s guests arrived and stood in line waiting to be greeted by him. Soon the captain’s table was filled with the exception of four chairs that remained unoccupied. Polly soon discovered that these vacant seats were for her wonderful pop idol Freddie Fruitless and his backing group of female vocalists.
The captain ordered a member of the waiting staff to go in search of them as it was not good etiquette to keep all his other guests waiting any longer. The waiter nodded his agreement and left the dining hall, noting their cabin numbers on a small slip of paper before leaving. Eventually the waiter returned looking slightly disheveled and harassed and whispered something into the captain’s ear. Polly watched as the captain nodded, saying, “I see,” repeatedly in response to the information he was being given by the waiter. At one point he seemed to raise an eyebrow as if somewhat concerned. He then thanked the waiter and turned to address his table of guests, stroking his whiskers as he spoke.
“It appears that our guests of honor know little about the code of conduct we enjoy on this ship. They have been quite rude to members of my staff who were sent to advise them that we are all sitting here awaiting their presence at this table.” The captain paused to clear his throat and then continued, “But it appears that when you are a rich pop star you no longer need to live by the same courtesies as the rest of us. I therefore suggest that we refill our glasses with some more Chateau Latour and let the banquet commence.”
“Hear, hear!” came the unanimous response from the very hungry guests.
The banquet was a most sumptuous feast of every imaginable delicacy, ranging from caviar to fresh lobster. Polly declined the Pâté de Foie Gras, as well as the gleaming black lumpy stuff. She also declined the roast pheasant and stuffed pigeon, but luckily, and much to her relief, she noted that English rib of beef with horseradish sauce was also on the menu. Her decision made, in no time at all Polly was happily tucking into a large serving of roast beef with fresh vegetables, at the same time helping herself not to one or two, but three large Yorkshire puddings to accompany the meat on her plate. Polly was almost through her second helping of sherry trifle topped with ice cream and fresh cream when Freddie and his entourage finally made their very belated entrance into the dining hall.
Polly observed that Freddie seemed in a most foul mood as he made his way across to the table, pushing aside every waiter that attempted to greet him. His female backing group seemed equally out of sorts, their long faces hanging in the deepest of sulks as they followed behind him. The captain stood up from his seat to personally greet them, but Freddie dismissed him in a most abrasive manner before rather rudely flinging himself down into the seat the waiter had just pulled out from under the table.
Over the next hour Polly watched as the churlish group constantly complained that this or that was not right, or the homemade soup was too cold and then too hot as overstretched waiters sought to keep them happy. Finally, after the group had drunk exorbitant volumes of Chateau Latour, as well as equal volumes of vintage Krug Champagne, they finally appeared to relax and settle down. Polly took this opportunity to introduce herself.
“Hi, Freddie. I am Polly, and I think I’m your number one fan. I really love you. I think you’re wonderful, really I do.”
Freddie smirked, for he was a little taken aback and also slightly amused that this young lady should be so innocent and forthright in her manner.
“Wow, that’s really great, Polly,” he said, smiling as he spoke. “It’s good to know that you have such good taste.”
Over the next course—which Polly declined, as it was a lot of smelly cheese accompanied by savory biscuits and served with a glass of port—she discovered why Freddie was in such a bad mood.
“One of my female backers has just told me she intends to quit as soon as the ship docks in England,” he angrily confided. “
Now where am I going to find myself another singer at such short notice?”
Before Polly could come up with a suggestion, Freddie raised an arm high into the air and clicked his fingers as he tried to get one of the waiters’ immediate attention. A waiter obliged and rushed to his side.
“Is there anything more I can get you, sir?” he asked very politely.
“Yes, there is. You can fill up my glass with more port,” Freddie said, waving his glass under the waiter’s nose. “And by the way, what on earth do you call this?” he snapped as he prodded the food on his plate before stabbing his index finger into the middle of a soft creamy cheese.
“It’s called cheese, sir, and I believe that’s the French brie you have just stuck your finger into,” answered the waiter very patiently.
“Yes, you dumb fool, I can see that,” sneered Freddie impatiently. “But I can also see that this cheese is not fit for half-starved mice to eat, let alone humans. Besides, it stinks, you half wit.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but it is supposed to look and smell like that,” responded the waiter with polite firmness.
“Well, I don’t care. Go and get me some more, and hurry up,” snapped Freddie, who was becoming more irate by the moment.
“Certainly sir,” replied the waiter, keeping his dignity as he discreetly whipped the offending plate of cheeses from under Freddie’s nose in a most professional manner before heading off in the direction of the kitchen.
“Right, now where was I?” said Freddie as he attempted to compose himself. “I do so hate having to deal with the riffraff, and it seems to me that most waiters and hotel staff fall into that category,” he remarked, raising his eyes into his head to show total boredom before tossing his head back and running his fingers through his hair.
Polly chose to ignore his inflammatory remarks, preferring to believe that he was just upset and therefore having an off day. “Everybody is allowed one of those once in a while,” she thought to herself in an effort to excuse Freddie’s atrocious behavior.
“Yes, Polly, I was in the middle of telling you that I am about to lose one of my female vocalists, wasn’t I?”
“Yes, you were.” Polly then hesitated for a moment before blurting out, “But, Freddie, I may have the perfect solution to your problem.”
“Go on. I’m listening,” said Freddie.
“Well, Freddie, I could help out if you like,” said Polly very enthusiastically.
“What? You?” retorted Freddie, throwing his head back further and laughing out loud. “I may be desperate, but not that desperate!”
“Don’t laugh at me like that,” said Polly, choosing to ignore his insult. “I can sing, really I can. I have sung in a choir for the last couple of years. So give me a chance,” she pleaded before adding, “Would you like me to sing something now? I am more than happy to sing any one of your songs, for I know all the words by heart,” she innocently asked, feeling very excited.
“No thanks, although I’m sure your voice can’t be much worse than listening to the strains of Bach coming from over there,” he said scornfully, at the same time pointing a finger offensively in the direction of the string quartet. “But spare me the honor, for I have had enough grief today. Besides, I’m very tired and a little worse for wear, for even their wine is pretty disgusting,” he groaned as he downed the last dregs of the wine and crashed the crystal glass back down on the table.
He then held onto the table as he levered himself up from his chair, grabbing hold of the tablecloth as he did so. The tablecloth and the unused cutlery started to come off the table and crashed to the floor. All the guests present in the dining room turned to look in their direction, including one gentleman who reached out to prevent the large floral display from toppling over. Finally, Freddie staggered across the dining room, stumbling into a dining hall pillar as he attempted to make his way out of the dining hall, struggling like a blind man to see his way to the exit.
Captain Humdinger watched, stroking his beard while he patiently observed the young, hedonistic star. On this occasion he chose to hold his tongue and say nothing. Oh, he was indeed more than willing to step in and order Freddie and his band out of his dining room. There was no denying that he would have done so if Freddie had uttered one more offensive word to any of his guests or staff, but for the moment he decided to allow wisdom to take its course and wait for an opportune moment, something he knew would not be long in coming.
Despite Freddie’s rather sad behavior, Polly really enjoyed the evening. The captain had been very amusing and witty, telling one joke after another. The food also had been delicious, and the wine had flowed all night, although, I hasten to add, none in Polly’s direction. She had pineapple and orange juice all evening, and this was much more to her liking.
Finally, great tiredness swept over her, and she could no longer keep her eyes open, at least not without the help of matchsticks. After thanking Captain Humdinger for his wonderful hospitality, she excused herself and Langdon and left the dining hall to make her way to the cabin and bed.
On her way down the long corridor she heard shouting, and she very quickly determined that it was coming from the first-class cabin suite of none other than Freddie Fruitless. Polly crept nearer to find out exactly what was going on. As she neared the door, it was suddenly flung open, and a young female member of staff was forced out of the door and into the corridor. Her bucket with cleaning materials followed after her, the contents spilling all over the floor. Polly went over to the young girl and placed her arm on her shoulder before asking her what the problem was.
“He’s been sick everywhere, and I’ve been instructed to clean it up and change his sheets. But he is completely out of control and keeps shouting offensive words at me,” the young girl whimpered. “I am so afraid that if he complains to the management, then I will lose my job,” she cried.
Polly gave her a sympathetic hug. “Stay here a minute, and I will see if I can get some sense out of him,” Polly gently ordered the maid.
Polly knocked on the cabin door, but Freddie chose to ignore her. Polly would not be beaten and continued to knock.
“Go away, you miscreant. You are giving me a headache!” he shouted, adding a few more obscenities intended to demoralize the girls and get them to stop harassing him.
“I’m going nowhere until you let me in,” Polly defiantly retaliated. “This poor girl has a job to do, and you are preventing her from doing it. So please do the right thing and let us in, and I promise we will be out of your cabin in no time at all.” Still there was complete silence, so Polly continued knocking only harder.
Eventually, Freddie ran out of steam as well as expletives, and he found himself forced into opening the cabin door and agreeing to let Polly and the maid inside as long as the job of clearing up was done quickly as well as to his liking. Polly wasted no time in grabbing the young girl’s hand and hauled her, along with her bucket of cleaning agents, back into the cabin.
“We are going to get through this together,” she whispered to the young girl. “For as we all know, many hands make light work. Wait here, for I just need to put Langdon down on the coffee table, and then we can get started.”
As Polly and the maid cleared up, Freddie Fruitless continued to be sick. Eventually he crashed down onto the leather sofa and passed out, leaving Polly and the maid thoroughly relieved. They retraced his steps, stooping down low to clean up his pungent mess.
Finally, the cabin was clean and his bed made up with fresh linen. Then with a number of squirts from a can of room freshener the room was once again as fresh as a daisy. With Freddie still out for the count and sprawled across the sofa, the girls took the opportunity to exit the room as quickly and quietly as possible. Outside his room, the maid hugged Polly.
“Thank you. You are so kind,” she said with a sweet smile.
“Nonsense,” Polly retorted as she gave the maid’s hand a tight squeeze. “I am sure you would have done the same for me. And listen, if you need
my help again, don’t hesitate to give me a call. I’m in cabin 27 B, on D deck.”
The maid squeezed Polly’s hand tightly and said good night before quickly heading back to her quarters as fast as her legs would take her. As Polly placed Langdon between the fresh linen sheets and climbed into bed, she found herself hoping that Freddie’s behavior was just an out-of-character blip. She certainly hoped so, for everyone’s sake.
The next day found Polly and Langdon stretched out on deck chairs on the promenade deck, for the weather was perfect with just a hint of a breeze. Later the same day Polly found herself joined by a lovely Scottish woman who introduced herself as Roberta before drawing up a deckchair to join her. Polly was glad of the company, and before long they were deep in conversation. Polly was amazed to learn that Roberta was on her way back to England from a little-known place in Africa where she had set up a medical center to rescue young girls from the street. She was also amazed by Roberta’s bravery and courage, as there had been much opposition from local people who were losing serious money. There were now considerably fewer young girls to sell into slavery.
“What made you give up your life and comforts to go and help them?” Polly asked wide-eyed and full of curiosity.
Roberta did not hesitate in her reply as she explained that she had simply read an article and been so moved with compassion that she had felt the deepest compulsion to sell all she had and get out there to rescue these defenseless children.
“All this was some fifteen years ago,” she informed Polly. “But I am now on my way back to England, as my funds have run out. I am not entirely certain at this present time what to do next, but I am confident that I will find new ways of funding my project; I certainly hope so for the children’s sakes as well as mine.”
Polly Brown Page 46