by Berri Fox
Silence.
“Exactly! So I did what any loving sister would do and I decided to spy on him to see what’s going on. You can thank me later.”
More silence. Robin makes a noise like a kettle about to boil over. “Ashley, I’m going to kill you.”
“Sorry Robin, you’re breaking up.” I make fake static noise, cupping my hand over the receiver. “Connection is terrible here. Love you. Bye.”
Then I hang up and go back to the sofa where my fake girlfriend is watching cartoons with her nephew. We’re making bets on which character Scooby Doo will unmask next and Robin’s not going to ruin this for me.
Ten
Jess
I can’t remember the last time I’ve had this much fun. Ashley is hilarious and me and Alex giggle all afternoon. She does incredible impressions of everyone on the ship, and even convinces one of the chefs to make a huge bowl of chocolate pudding especially for Alex.
As she starts a story about one of her wild parties at a hotel she and her brother own, I catch myself staring at her in awe. I can’t imagine being a part of her life, and yet that’s exactly what I’m going to have to pretend to be until we get off this damn boat. All the luxury and opulence in the world won’t distract me from the mess I’ve found myself in.
Ashley’s sparkling blue eyes might do the trick though.
She is interrupted by a polite yet firm knock on the cabin door. Ashley jumps up and goes to answer it, while I try to hold Alex down and scrub the chocolate off his face with a damp towel. It dawns on me that the towel I’m using has an embossed crest on the front, the emblem of the cruise line, and that it’s 10 times softer (and 100 times more expensive) than any towel I’ve ever seen before.
I hastily drop it and kick it under the bed as the door opens and the nice Purser, Sandy, enters. I smile up at him trying not to act too guilty.
The game is up almost immediately however, when Alex pipes up with, “Auntie Jess put chocolate on the nice towel and now it’s under the bed.”
I steel myself for trouble but Sandy bursts out laughing. Alex joins in delightedly and over Sandy’s shoulder I see Ashley smirk and wink at me. I swallow and try to ignore the effect that her wonderful smirk has on me.
“Hi Sandy. It’s nice to see you. Thanks for finding that hat for Alex and offering to show him around the ship, he really had a good time this morning.”
Sandy smiles and gives Alex a high five. “Aye it’s no problem at all. Anything for my young captain, eh?”
Alex jumps up and down in excitement at being called “captain”, and I lunge across the bed to stop him from falling off the other side.
“Anyway, I was just stopping by to remind you both that you’ve been invited to dine at the Captain’s Table tonight. The perks of knowing the owners of the ship, eh? Dinner is likely to start at 7:30 but most will be there from around 7 to chat beforehand.”
I barely hear the last half of Sandy’s announcement, or Ashley’s smooth and delighted reply. A wave of cold fear washes over me. This is going to ruin the plan entirely.
I am only dimly aware of Sandy leaving the suite and Ashley shutting the door firmly behind him. I immediately jump up and start pacing the floor. All traces of fun I had been having have quickly dissipated.
“Hey, hey, whoa! What’s wrong?” Ashley catches my arms and holds me still in front of her.
Now is a really bad time to admit that I like the look of soft concern and tenderness in her eyes. It makes me feel as though she cares about me, for real and not just for appearances’ sake.
I shake my head vigorously. “This is a nightmare, an absolute nightmare! I’ve never been to a fancy dinner before and I have no idea what to do.”
I pull away from Ashley, bereft for a moment at our lack of contact before snapping back to reality.
“I have to figure out what to do. Oh god, how many forks are there going to be? I know you get a different fork for crab, but I’ve never eaten crab with a crab fork, and I don’t know if we’re going to be eating crab but we’re in the ocean, so it only makes sense!”
Ashley winces. “I’m going to need you to stop saying crab,” she suggests, amusement in her tone.
“It’s not funny!” I snap at her, whipping out my cell phone and quickly googling table layouts. I wonder if the Captains Table on a luxury cruise liner has its own specific table layout or if any general dinner party one will do.
I’m waiting for the page to load when I’m hit with another realization. “Oh god, I have nothing to wear! And look at my hair, it’s an absolute state!”
Ashley rolls her eyes and I shoot her a look of annoyance and despair.
“You have plenty of clothes, we bought them today. Here, put this on.” Ashley plucks a navy-blue gown from one of the bags and thrusts it at me.
I reluctantly take it into the bathroom to change, and stare at myself in the mirror when I’m done. I must admit that it does look good, but my hair still lets the look down and god only knows what I’m going to do if there’s more than three forks on the table.
When I exit the bathroom, Ashley is standing there, also changed. She looks stunning in a camel colored pantsuit, and skyscraper heels. My heart beats madly in my chest and I close my hands into fists to stop them from shaking.
Ashley notices my nerves and steps up in front of me. “You look wonderful. Here.”
She arranges a fresh flower in my hair and insists that no one will notice or care if I use the wrong fork at dinner. Then she pulls me out into the corridor and along the ship to the dining hall, depositing Alex at the kid’s club on the way. I try to swallow both my nerves and the fluttering of feelings in my chest whenever I look at Ashley.
As we take our seats at the table, the older woman sitting to my right turns to greet us. She looks stern, almost like a librarian, and I have to stop myself from apologizing to her for no reason.
“Harriet. Harriet Peterson,” she says, holding out a hand.
I take it and try to smile. “It’s lovely to meet you, Ms. Peterson. I’m Emily, and this is my girlfriend…Robin.”
I have to pause so as not to let slip Ashley’s real name, and I gulp as Ms. Peterson’s eyes narrow ever so slightly at my near miss. Ashley swoops into my rescue and shakes Ms. Peterson’s hand enthusiastically.
I manage to claw the conversation back by discussing literature with the intimidating woman, in between bites of the most delicious food I’ve ever eaten. Ms. Peterson seems really interested in my ideas, and when I start to talk about the book I’ve been struggling with, her eyes light up. She asks me rapid fire questions and seems pleased at how quickly I can answer them.
I notice her glancing at Ashley a few times though, and it makes me nervous. I start trying to chat about our “life” together instead, but it only serves to encourage everyone at the table to start asking questions about my relationship with the famous Robin Carmichael.
I’m trying not to show how nervous I am, or stutter over any of my words. I freeze slightly when Ashley squeezes my hand under the table, but somehow it helps me relax more. I’m just launching into a story about how we met (in a planetarium, under Uranus) when the two glamor girls from the shop stalk in and sit directly opposite us.
They shake their hair in unison, and one of them smiles flirtatiously at Ashley. “So, we meet again then,” she simpers.
I’m more annoyed than I expected at their brazenness but tell myself that it’s just because we need to make our cover look realistic. I cough slightly and bring our joined hands up onto the table. The girl eyes our interlocked fingers and smirks slightly.
I decide I must pull out all the stops, if only to make them so jealous they can’t stand to be here anymore. I slide to the edge of my seat and wrap my arms around Ashley’s neck, draping my head across her shoulder. From the way she relaxes into my touch I know that the girls have been annoying her too.
“And do you remember when we went to Barbados at the start of this year, darling? It was
wonderful, gosh the hotel we stayed in was just terrific. And the sea absolutely shone, didn’t it babe?”
Ashley smirked and nodded. “Oh yeah, it was magnificent. Highly recommend it.”
“Oh, but I didn’t enjoy it nearly as much as I enjoyed the Caribbean. That was my all time favorite, nothing can compare to it.”
“Barbados is in the Caribbean.” Ashley stiffens and I turn to see a tall, thin man with dark eyes and a silver cane stride into the room behind me and sit at a chair across from Ashley. He holds out his hand.
“Francis. De Haverland. I own Sonara Hotels, which some consider to be the finest of all hotels. We have rather a few in the Caribbean.”
I bristle. “Of course Barbados is in the Caribbean, but I don’t think I saw one of your hotels where we stayed, either time. We were in a rather more…exclusive resort.”
De Haverland sits up straighter, annoyance flashing in his eyes. Beside me, Ms. Peterson snickers. I lift my chin slightly and drape myself over Ashley’s shoulder again.
Finally, I’m starting to enjoy myself.
Eleven
Ashley
As I relax and see Jess doing the same, I can’t help but start to enjoy myself. The atmosphere is lively, even with De Haverland there, and it amuses me to hear the stories that Jess is making up about us.
I drape my arm lightly over Jess’ shoulder, and smirk devilishly as the contact makes her stutter slightly. I start rubbing small circles into her neck as I engage the guy next to me in a heated debate about the use of new technology in the hotel and leisure industries.
The first few times someone enters the room I stiffen automatically. I’m worried that the twins will decide to make an appearance, even though I double and triple checked with the staff that they were tired and had ordered room service direct to their cabins. They’ll be there for the night, which means we have plenty of time to sell ourselves to our fellow diners.
I only remove my arm from around Jess’ shoulders when the food comes. It is crab, but I squeeze Jess’ hand lightly under the table in reassurance. She looks at me with slightly nervous eyes, and I deliberately pick up the crab fork and use it to fish the meat out of the shell.
She watches my movements, trying to pretend to be casual. As she goes to pick up her own crab fork her hand shakes slightly.
“Darling, you just have to try this,” the words are out of my mouth before I realize it, and I pick up some crab meat on my fork, feeding it to Jess.
Her eyes widen again, but this time with a look of pleasure so strong that it throws me. “Oh wow, that’s delicious. It’s the best thing I’ve ever eaten!”
“Yes, it is rather good isn’t it? But of course, they have a top notch chef on the ship, it’s one of the reasons people keep coming back. Basically Michelin starred you know,” Ms. Peterson offered.
Jess nods and digs into her own crab, her worries and concerns over whether she can play the part largely forgotten. As her eyelashes flutter in pleasure, I swallow hard and have to remind myself to keep my composure.
It’s a battle I’m not sure I’ll win though, especially when she keeps looking at me with her beautiful big green eyes wide and delighted. I’ve dined in some fancy places, but I would really call myself a foodie – not usually anyway. But watching Jess and hearing her exclaim how good everything is gives me a much deeper appreciation that I usually have.
The food really is delicious. And I’m enjoying spending time with the cutie on my arm just a bit too much.
I jump in occasionally with quick remarks to make our fellow diners laugh, but I mostly just leave it to Jess to explain how ‘Robin’ and ‘Emily’ met, where we’ve been, how we’re finding the cruise. I watch her speak with fascination, loving how she throws her hands in the air when she gets excited and how her eyes sparkle with excitement as she creates more and more elaborate stories.
When De Haverland pipes up in an attempt to make Jess feel inferior and stupid I feel myself getting surprisingly angry. But just as I am about to lash out with some half thought out remark, Jess coolly deals with the matter herself. As the other diners snicker quietly, I lean over and kiss her on the cheek.
“You’re so great,” I whisper in her ear, and she blushes furiously. I can’t stop myself from smirking, and my grin only grows wider when I hear the annoyed murmurs of those girls from the shop who are sitting across the table from us.
“And you’re with that little boy, aren’t you?” Ms. Peterson cuts in.
“Yes, Alex. He’s Jess’ nephew and we look after him. He’s a great kid, he’s so clever and funny, and he knows so much about boats!”
I see Jess turn to me out of the corner of my eye. I think she’s surprised that I’m the one offering up information about Alex. Her smile grows bigger and I smile back, happy and relieved that my inclusion of him has made her so happy.
“Kids are like that. Always have that one thing you can’t get away from. My daughters love horses,” a man from the other side of the table offers.
As I chat about Alex, I’m surprised at how naturally the words come to me, and how little I have to pretend or force myself to be enthusiastic. I tell them some stories about what Alex has gotten up to on the ship so far, and pepper in some made up tales about our life in our apartment together in New York City.
Jess keeps smiling at me, and now it’s her turn to drape herself over me. I love how happy this is all making her, and for reasons I’m not sure I want to understand her happiness seems more important to me than anything else right now.
“I was very interested to find out that the famous Robin Carmichael is a woman. Of course, it’s a symptom of our society isn’t it, that we all assumed a famous and successful hotelier must be a man. Really makes you think about how far we still have to go doesn’t it?”
There’s a murmur of agreements with Ms. Peterson’s statement, but De Haverland snorts, unimpressed. I try to suppress my natural urge to glare at him until he bursts into flames.
I’m relieved that everyone has accepted me as ‘Robin’ so easily, and Jess is surprisingly great at pretending to be in love with me. I feel a pang in my chest when I remember this is all pretend, but I squash the feelings down. There’s no time to dwell on something like that right now.
“I bet you’re enjoying yourself here, Robin. It’s so far away from that wastrel of a sister of yours,” De Haverland says casually, gauging me for a reaction.
I swallow and pause before I speak. I don’t want to accidentally give the game away. “I’m sure she’s perfectly fine, thank you.”
He laughs and Jess squeezes my arm soothingly. “Oh yes, I’m sure she’s just peachy. I’m more concerned about whichever one of your hotels she decides to destroy next.”
I breathe out slowly. Everything he’s saying is true, but it still feels like a blow to the chest. He continues before I have the chance to think of a retort. “And I always thought that your Emily was rather a stunner. At least by all accounts that I’ve heard.”
“Yes?” I say through gritted teeth. The table has gone quiet, and everyone is listening to our exchange with a mixture of curiosity and discomfort.
He laughs again and looks Jess up and down before returning his gaze to meet mine. “Well…it’s just that she’s not much of a looker, is she? I never knew you went for girls who are so…plain. So common.”
I stand up so quickly that my chair rocks. The man sitting next to me makes a gab for it to stop it from falling backwards. I’m so furious that I see red, and all I can think about is defending Jess from this disgusting man.
I don’t stop to think about why I feel so strongly, or why the look of pain and resigned sadness I see flicker across Jess’ face makes my heart hurt so much more than anything else I’ve experienced. It even hurts more than my brother’s best “I’m not mad, I’m disappointed” look.
I open my mouth to lash out at De Haverland and wonder briefly if I’d get away with slapping the stupid smug grin off of his face. I snap
back and he too rises to his feet.
He laughs at my rage and I’m about to vault over the table when Jess grabs my arm and leans her body into mine. She stares straight across at him.
“Oh darling, leave it alone. Don’t forget that gossip is the domain of the…small-minded.”
There’s a ripple of laughter around the table and I turn to stare at her. She looks remarkably cool and collected, and I feel a surge of pride and admiration.
De Haverland turns a mottled shade of red and purple, clearly furious. I smirk at him, enjoying how speechless with rage he is. I wrap my arms around Jess again and kiss her deeply, to a chorus of wolf whistles and a disgruntled “eww, gross” from one of the glamor girls.
This dinner party is really shaping up to be one to remember.
Twelve
Jess
When Francis De Haverland stomps off, I could practically sing. I can’t believe that his attempts to intimidate and embarrass us have failed so spectacularly.
We’re left in the company of high society ladies. They’re all dressed to the nines. Without even looking at a price tag, I know that these dresses must cost more than three months rent. I make a note to myself to be careful not to spill anything.
The ladies here are intimidating for sure. I can tell immediately that I don’t belong. But they aren’t half as intimidating as De Haverland. Honestly, I welcome the change.
The discomfort of not quite being in place isn’t nearly as bad as being actively scrutinized.
I have a chance to take in some of my own scrutiny. Despite the fact that the ladies are all dressed in the latest and most expensive fashions, I sense some envy.
I suppose that this sort of thing always forces you to keep up with the Joneses. I look around to see who is the head of the pack, but then I pause. Is it us?