Second Sitting

by Stella Whitelaw

  I’d given Richard Norton a statement about being taken hostage with Mrs Foster, and the knife threat in the gallery. And I gave him the printout of Tamara’s letter.

  ‘You’ll be asked to give further statements when we reach Southampton,’ he said.

  ‘I’m supposed to be doing a turn round,’ I said. ‘I’m working on the next cruise, you know.’

  ‘I’ll see if I can arrange for some officers to see you the morning of the turn round.’

  We couldn’t wait to be rid of both Susan Brook, with an e, and Darin Jack. My bullet list of suspects had been spot on. It was AOP. The wild cannon. We didn’t know who had spiked my orange juice, but my bet was on Tamara.

  Rosanna was released from custody as long as she was with Ray or myself or some responsible person. There had been several volunteers, including Amanda and Joan Foster. Being a stowaway was way down Rosanna’s list of crimes. Stealing leftovers from passengers’ lunch trays was hardly a capital offence. Captain Nicolas wanted to meet her. He’d been a great fan of Merlin the Magician.

  ‘But how did you know where I was?’ I’d asked a dozen times since.

  ‘You had a whole network of friends who went into action. Quite an impressive back-up. Mrs Fairweather reported that you were in too much of a hurry to talk and looked quite distracted. Madame de Leger said you appeared very worried and immediately sensed that something was wrong. Your steward, Ahmed, was alerted by Susan Brook’s steward about the state of the cabin and they reported back to the head steward, Karim, who is no fool.’

  ‘Ahmed is so reliable.’

  ‘And several passengers saw you running along decks, hurrying into the lift. One of the Lido deck stewardesses saw you ringing the bell of Mrs Foster’s suite and a worried Mrs Foster answering. Someone is always watching, you should know that. Nothing is secret on board ship.’

  ‘And they all did or said something?’

  ‘A ragged chain of communication went into action but it worked. Purser’s office, Security, me. It was Bruno who put us straight.’

  ‘Bruno, young Bruno?’

  ‘Not so young. Ex-Marines.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Amanda’s bodyguard, the blond guy. She’s employed a bodyguard since her fiancé was killed in the road rage attack.’

  I fingered my ear and my nose. They were still intact, still the same shape.

  ‘Mrs Foster gave Bruno the painting to look after. She trusted him and no one would link him to her. It’s now in the purser’s office, locked in a safe. It’s probably worth as much as the ship.’

  ‘What an exaggeration, but maybe nearly as much. What about Tamara?’

  ‘The Mexican police have been alerted. It won’t be long before she’s picked up unless she takes to the mountains. Not much fun living in the wild. No hairdressers or nail salons.’

  *

  Samuel had barely left my side since the hostage situation. Last night had been the Black and White ball, which meant that everyone wore black and white evening dress. It did look spectacular, very grand. I managed my usual duties on stage in a white chiffon dress with black gloves, though I was pretty shaky at first. I got a lot of applause as I went on stage, as it went round the ship that I was a heroine again. No dog involved this time.

  Samuel was waiting in the wings to take me upstairs to the Grill for a quick bite between shows, but I couldn’t touch anything. He force fed me a raspberry sorbet. Any appetite had fled.

  Early this morning, the Countess made landfall with the Azores (the name is the plural of the word blue) and took on the pilot. The stern was swung to port for the approach to berthing, a tricky manoeuvre. But soon she was alongside and the mooring completed. The passengers could go ashore after all the formalities.

  No one saw Susan Brook and DJ go ashore. But a security van arrived for them and the police came on-board to take them away. Richard Norton was the only person who saw them leave.

  It was partly cloudy and fine with a light breeze. The temperature was only sixty-one degrees Fahrenheit, or sixteen Celsius. Fleece time after the glorious Caribbean temperatures. The landscape looked rugged and green and beautiful with volcanic cones and craters. Not a whale in sight. It was a pleasant awakening for the passengers, who thought the Azores might be a disappointment. But the scenery was glorious, a cross between Switzerland and Hawaii.

  ‘So where would you like to go?’ Samuel asked, helping me off the last step of the gangway. Everyone kept helping me as if I was an invalid.

  ‘You don’t have to come with me,’ I said. ‘I can look around by myself.’

  ‘You’re not safe on your own,’ he said, taking my arm. ‘You’ll end up involved in some ghastly situation and need rescuing again. One rescue per cruise is my limit.’

  I did like having Samuel by my side. He was the perfect escort. He was wearing a V-necked cashmere sweater and a lightweight jacket with navy jeans. There was nothing remotely permanent about his company. It was purely a doctor/patient relationship, I told myself. He’d dabbed some antiseptic on the cut under my nose.

  ‘I wondered if you would like me a bit more if I did shorten my name to Sam,’ he said casually again, for no reason at all.

  ‘You could give it a try,’ I said.

  ‘How about going to see the twin lakes at Sete Cidades?’ he suggested. ‘We could take a taxi. No need to join one of the tours. They are apparently an astonishing sight.’

  ‘They are two lakes joined together,’ I said, quoting the guide book. ‘One an emerald green and the other a brilliant blue. Something to remember for a lifetime, it says.’

  ‘Fancy something to remember for a lifetime?’ His eyes were twinkling dangerously.

  ‘I do, Sam,’ I said, throwing caution to a light north easterly.

  If you enjoyed Second Sitting check out Endeavour Press’s other books here: Endeavour Press - the UK’s leading independent publisher of digital books.

  For weekly updates on our free and discounted eBooks sign up to our newsletter.

  Follow us on Twitter and Goodreads.

  Acknowledgements

  With gratitude and thanks to the staff of Oxted Library and Worthing Library for coming up with the answers to a stream of questions. Also to Fran Reynolds, fabulous cruise ship dancer and now a very talented choreographer and producer.

  P & O staff on board and on shore were so helpful and kind to an ignorant landlubber. Any nautical errors are entirely mine.

  And, of course, as always thanks to my wonderful editor, Anna Telfer, who somehow managed to fit in a wedding while editing Second Sitting.