Shattered at Sea

by Cheryl Hollon

  “With pleasure.” Amanda performed the shutdown sequence and powered off the system. “It’s all yours.”

  Amanda bit the corner of her thumb, careful not to damage her lime nail polish. She was worried about figuring out the new technology. This program was significantly more complicated than the previous software and would be a basic element in keeping Webb’s Glass Shop out of financial ruin. It didn’t help Amanda’s nerves that Edward was gone as well. He had installed the same system in his restaurant pub more than a month ago and knew how to use it.

  His bartender, Nicole, didn’t like it very much, but Edward loved the reporting features of the system and knew his way around the various screens. Amanda was glad that Savannah had ordered a one-on-one training session to follow the installation. She felt relieved that the workshop scheduled for this week was the beginning class for traditional stained glass. She could walk students through their first stained-glass piece in her sleep.

  Feeling awkward, she watched him remove the old cathode ray tube system. He carefully wrapped and bundled it as if it were an Egyptian mummy. After that, he replaced it with an all-in-one flat screen and keyboard. It was so much smaller than the old system that there would be plenty of extra room for clients to set their purchases down on the counter while they paid.

  Will plugged in the new system, installed a Wi-Fi box, an uninterruptable power supply, and plugged them all into a fancy power strip. After that he stood behind the counter and pressed the power button. The monitor flashed on to display the welcome screen. Then the cash register application displayed its home screen in a blinding flash.

  “Oh, boy! That’s fast.”

  “Welcome to your modern system. I have a few customizations to make in the setup file in order to hook it up with your Internet provider, and we’ll be good to go.”

  In less than ten minutes, Will finished the setup and rebooted the system. “It’s all done. Now, let me take you through the basic screens. It won’t take long as everything is designed to be intuitive.”

  The bell over the door of Webb’s Glass Shop rang. Amanda looked up to see one of her students arriving for the morning stained-glass class. “Good morning. Go ahead and get set up in the classroom. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  Amanda turned to Will. “Can you give me the tutorial after lunch? This class lasts until one o’clock and then I’ll have the rest of the afternoon to get familiar with the new system.”

  “Sure, I can do that,” Will agreed quickly. He dug into his satchel and handed her an invoice to sign. “If you sign the invoice, that’s my documentation that I’ve completed the installation. Then I can leave and come back this afternoon for your training.” He handed her a pen. “It’s no problem.”

  Amanda scrunched her forehead and hesitated. Then the ringing of the over-the-door bell announced more students. So, Amanda signed the form. She greeted the new students while Will gathered his tools and loaded them onto the cart with the Legacy system.

  Amanda rubbed an itch on her left palm. “You’ll be back this afternoon, right?”

  Will turned on his thousand-watt smile and handed her a business card. “Absolutely. Most likely at about one thirty. That will give you a chance to have a bite before we start the training.”

  Amanda held the door for him and then her remaining students appeared. She enjoyed teaching and was soon immersed in the beginning student’s instruction. Before she knew it, they were done with today’s lessons and everyone was packing up.

  Moments after the last student left, a regular customer came in to purchase several large, expensive sheets of glass that he needed for slumping into tall vase molds. He already had a kiln in his garage and stopped by regularly for supplies. He was experimenting with various colors to use in floral centerpieces at his daughter’s wedding.

  When Amanda took the wrapped glass over to the counter, she stopped short. “Oh, no. I forgot we have a new system.” She inhaled a deep breath. “Well, this is where I find out if intuitive really means that using it is simple or that it is intuitive only to the designer.”

  She moved the mouse to wake up the monitor and the display revealed a menu screen. She clicked on the cash button and the screen flashed a bright red for a moment and displayed the menu screen again.

  “Arghhh!” Amanda pounded her tight little fists on the counter in a staccato. “It doesn’t work!”

  Amanda wrapped the glass sheets in brown butcher paper and turned to the new cash system. The screen was black.

  “Hang on a second,” said Amanda. She wiggled the mouse.

  Nothing.

  “I’ll try a reboot.” She looked at the control strip at the base of the flat screen and found the power symbol. She pressed it and heard the whirr of the internal fan wind down to silence. Then she counted to ten and pushed the power button. She crossed the fingers of both hands and closed her eyes.

  The customer was beginning to fidget. He had already wandered around the shop looking at more glass, but now he stood in front of her at the counter.

  When she didn’t hear anything, she pushed the power button again, then crossed her fingers and added her little fingers as well. She whispered, “Please, please, please work.” Amanda cracked one eye open to a silent black screen.

  She looked at the customer and shook her curls. “I’m so sorry. We have a manual system as a backup. Are you good with that?”

  “No, I’m afraid there’s been too much hacking lately to my mind.”

  “Let me try something else.” Amanda dived below the counter and ensured that all the wired connections were seated properly. She turned off the Wi-Fi box as well as the new PC. Again, she counted to ten and turned on the devices.

  The Wi-Fi box came up with its tiny lights flashing then settling to steady, but the PC was still dark.

  “Grrrrrr. It’s not going to play today. Let me show you our manual system.” She ducked under the counter and grabbed the folder that contained the forms and manual credit card slide machine. “We have lots of experience using a manual system.” Amanda laughed.

  “No, I’m not comfortable with that. I’ll be back in a couple of days. You should have it fixed by then.”

  She thought about calling him back, but before she could get the words out of her mouth, the customer was out the door, leaving the doorbell jangling.

  Amanda dropped her head to her chest in disappointment, then she called the number on Will’s card. It immediately went to voice mail to the default message.

  “Will? Are you there? This is Amanda Blake at Webb’s Glass Shop. The system you installed this morning has shut down and isn’t working. I’ve lost a big sale because the customer refused to use our manual backup system. Give me a call as soon as you can.” She recited Webb’s Glass Shop’s number slowly. “Please call as soon as you get this. I’m in big trouble here. Call.”

  She felt her shoulders drop in dejection. Pushing the negativity aside, Amanda picked up her smartphone. I hope Savannah doesn’t lose confidence in me. No, she won’t!

  She threw back her shoulders and began typing her daily message to Savannah.

  Chapter 11

  Tuesday, at sea

  Savannah led a stunned Edward away from the security office. There was effectively nothing more they could do down there. He followed her like a puppy to the Passport Bar located up one level. She pushed him down into a chair at a corner table and went to the bar. She ordered two shots of Irish whiskey and asked the bartender to also deliver two pints of Guinness.

  She handed Edward one of the shot glasses and he looked at it as if it were a moon rock. “Drink it down, right now.” He looked at her with dull eyes that nearly broke her heart. “Drink it down.”

  Edward tossed back the shot and sat the glass on the table. “I’m going to have to call Aunt Kate and Uncle Howard.” His green eyes were glistening with tears that he blinked away. Savannah knocked back her whiskey.

  The bartender placed the pints of Guinness on the
table. Savannah looked up at the server. “Thanks, and could you bring him another shot of Irish, please?”

  Savannah pushed the pint into Edward’s hand. “Drink this, honey. You’re in shock. Your conversation with Ian’s parents is going to be difficult.”

  His electric green eyes turned to Savannah and he grabbed her hand in a tight grip. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m such a lucky man.” Edward had swigged about a third of the pint down when the bartender placed the whiskey on the table. “Is that all, ma’am?”

  Savannah handed him her keycard. “Yes, thanks. We’ll be fine now.” She turned back to Edward. “We need to find a quiet place for you to call. How about the library? There’s probably no one there at this time of day.”

  Edward nodded and sipped his whiskey. “They’ll want to do something. Ian’s parents won’t sit around for news. Where’s our first port?”

  “I think it’s Provence, France. I haven’t been paying much attention to which ports we’re visiting. My focus has been on the demonstration times. I can confirm that with the daily schedule handout from guest relations.”

  Edward nodded, then took another sip of the whiskey.

  “Do you think you can persuade them to wait for an official statement?”

  “No, they’re strong willed and have always taken matters into their own hands. I can try, but most likely they’ll join us in Provence.”

  Savannah paid the tab and they finished their drinks. “You look a lot better now. Are you ready to make the call?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be. My mum always told me it’s better to run toward the problem rather than hide from your troubles.”

  Savannah took Edward by the arm. “She’s a wise woman.”

  They took the elevator and as expected, they found the library completely deserted. They sat in two massive, soft leather chairs in the back. Edward dialed his phone.

  “Hi, Aunt Kate. It’s Edward. I have some bad news.”

  Edward pleaded for almost twenty minutes to prevent his aunt Kate and uncle Howard from flying out to Provence if they could catch the next flight. Apparently, nothing he said could prevent them from coming to find their son. Ian’s parents were adamant that he could not possibly have committed suicide no matter what the ship’s security team thought.

  “I thought the cruise was full. How can they get a cabin?” asked Savannah as she and Edward left the library and proceeded to the lounge area at the stern. They sank into deck chairs and stared at the foamy wake.

  “I don’t know how, but I have full confidence that they will.”

  “Do you think he told them about his job interviews?”

  “Probably not. They were so proud of him. You saw them beaming like the sun at his celebration, right?”

  “Yes, I certainly wouldn’t have picked that as a time to tell them that I was unemployable.” Savannah leaned over in her deck chair and held Edward’s hand. “I’ve only known Ian for a few days, but he seems the resilient type.”

  “It’s the unemployable part that has him flummoxed.”

  “Why do you think he was rejected in his interviews?”

  “I think maybe he was too forthright about his past.”

  “Is that possible?” Savannah swung her legs over and sat up in the deck lounger.

  Edward cleared his throat and sat up so that they were sitting knee to knee. “There are some things I need to tell you about my past.” He sat very still and pulled Savannah’s hand into his. “I have a bit of a bad boy past.”

  She raised her eyebrows, disbelieving. “You?”

  Edward placed his other hand over hers, cupping it like a captured bird. “Ian and I had a rough time when we were lads aged about twelve and nine.”

  “Everyone has a rebellious phase. It’s completely normal.” Savannah looked at him with a concerned smile. She reminded herself not to interrupt again. He was typically a very British flavor of reserved and did not share his feelings easily.

  “This was a little bit more serious than rebellion. Ian and I were involved in a counterfeiting ring called the Ravens.”

  “In St. Albans?” Savannah slapped a hand over her mouth. So much for not interrupting.

  “No, it was before we moved to a new house in St. Albans. Our dads worked on the docks, so we lived in a rough part of London. Our mums worked in food shops and that meant we were on our own after school.”

  He fell silent. To Savannah, it reminded her of someone replaying an old film in his mind. She said softly, “Go on.”

  He jerked. “Oh, sorry. Where was I?”

  “You were saying that you and Ian were latchkey kids.”

  “Right.” Edward squeezed her hand tight for a moment. “We fell into a bad group of kids that were part of an Italian family that were involved in some criminal schemes.”

  “Such as . . .”

  “Running numbers, racehorse betting, and counterfeiting.”

  “What?” Savannah narrowed her eyes. “Impossible. I don’t believe you.”

  “Yes indeed, counterfeiting. Ian and I would go around to different newsagent shops to collect winnings.”

  “But that’s not counterfeiting.”

  “It gets worse.” He opened her hand and traced the lines in her palm with a finger. “We were good runners and one of the wannabe leaders of the family took a liking to us, so he groomed us into willing tools in a finely tuned money-laundering scheme.”

  “How does that work?”

  “We would go into a neighborhood newsagent shop—they were everywhere back then. Sometimes two or three per street. Anyway, we would go in and ask to change a fake five-pound note. Then we would get real change for the forged note.”

  “But wouldn’t the owner catch on?”

  “This was a long time ago. The notes were passed along quickly as change for a ten-pound purchase. We were assigned three or four a day in adjoining neighborhoods.”

  “How did you get there?”

  “That was how they paid us. We were given rubbish bicycles that we paid for bit by bit but never seemed to actually earn enough to pay them off.”

  “That’s mean.”

  “Of course it was, but they were just as mean to their own kin, so we didn’t take it personal. Wait.” Edward rubbed his temple and closed his eyes. “I’m trying to remember the big boss’s name.” He fell silent for a couple of seconds. “Right!” He opened his eyes. “It was Jimmy the Fist.”

  “That’s a violent name. Didn’t that scare you?”

  “Sorry, it seemed pretty normal at the time. Besides, we had already lied to our parents that we had found the bicycles in a garbage tip and fixed them up with scrap parts.”

  That’s sobering. Ian and Edward were skilled liars.

  “Then things got worse. We were taught how to snatch and run with purses, wallets, shopping bags—anything really.”

  Savannah opened her mouth to interrupt. Edward squeezed her hand and placed his index finger over her lips. “I know you want to help. Please let me tell the rest straight to the end.”

  He swallowed hard and pressed his lips into a firm line. “Then three things happened at the same time. First, the pressure increased to get more and more bags each day. Second, our parents found out that we were part of that ring from someone that saw us when they were visiting out of the neighborhood. We didn’t see the neighbors, so we were blissfully unaware that we had been ratted out.”

  He sat silent for a moment. When Savannah fidgeted, he held up a hand to stop her from interrupting. “The next thing was that I hurt a little old lady. I didn’t mean to knock her down, but she had a firm grip on her bag and she pitched forward as I ran by on the grab.”

  He stopped again. They both sat still. Savannah reached over to squeeze his hand.

  Then Edward resumed. “I turned back to look and she was lying on the sidewalk with her bleeding arm outstretched. She was crying out that her life was in that bag. Her voice sounded just like my granny’s.”

  He st
opped again. Savannah could see that he was playing the image over and over in his thoughts.

  “I stopped cold. It hit me like a ton of bricks that she was right. Likely, she was on her way home from the bank with her monthly pension. She wouldn’t eat if her bag was stolen. A cold sweat hit me as I realized what I had become. I went back, helped her up, gave her back the bag, then walked her home.”

  “Was Ian with you?”

  “Yeah, we had been sent out together. He was across the street. It was completely by chance that we were on that street. It was a coincidence.” His gaze wandered off into the distance again. Savannah didn’t think he knew she was there.

  She cleared her throat and he continued.

  “The next part is very fuzzy for me. A long black car pulled over about three houses up from the old woman’s and a man came out of the house shouting and brandishing his fist. The rear door of the black car opened, and a large man walked up to the shouting man and stabbed him in the stomach. We saw the flash of the knife. The shouting man went down like a rag doll.”

  “And then?”

  “The shouting man hit his head on the front step of the porch and it split wide open. Blood was everywhere. But we later found out it was a typical family hit.”

  “Did you see the man in the car?”

  “No, I only got a glance. But Ian got a good look at him.”

  “Then what?”

  “That meant that the man in the black car got a good look at Ian. We both ran all the way home. I threw up when I got there and then told Mum everything. She made me wait on the front steps until Pa came home and then I told him.”

  They sat silent for several minutes. Then Edward continued. “My parents were wild with anger and disappointment. When I mentioned that the big boss was Jimmy the Fist, they figured out that he was the man in the black car. I would likely never be safe in London. They decided to pack me up to stay with a cousin who owned a pub out in the country. As soon as they could, my folks moved to St. Albans. Ian’s folks arrived a year later. We never spoke of Jimmy the Fist again.”

  “You think he was still involved after you left?”