The wharf was perpendicular to the shore. The stern of the Columbus pointed to the south of the city and the bow to the sea. From their balcony, they had a perfect view of the promenade and a portion of the old city of Nice.
She looked to the right. Along the harbor was a two-lane road. She narrowed her eyes and read QUAI LUNEL on a street sign. From this angle, the buildings were also more what you would expect them to be near a port. The Indian restaurant called Le Bombay Palace and had a slightly worn-out appearance, but that also gave it a certain amount of charm. Both the yellow canopies of an adjoining restaurant, Bistro du Port, as well as the red ones from the other adjoining restaurant, Le Lunel, were in need of replacement. There were numerous cracks in their canvasses, and the sun had faded the once-bright colors to shades that now resembled pastel colors.
Despite the slightly dilapidated condition of some of the establishment, this part of Nice radiated a kind of old-fashioned charm, a kind of secure feeling, a familiarity, but in a good way. Along the boulevard it was a different story, however. A different set of values and morals ruled there, at least in her opinion.
Heleen took a sip of her mineral water. Her stomach protested immediately. She had obviously gone overboard with all the delicious foods during dinner, and now she was paying the price. Not that she felt sick, but the bloated feeling she experienced was far from comfortable.
The dinner had been a buffet with a variety of meats and seafood. The vegetarians had also been taken into account. According to the schedule, a buffet would be served twice a day: during the arrival and departure in the Nice harbor. Throughout the trip, there was an à la carte menu in the afternoon and at night.
Because they had been quite hungry, they had arrived at the dining hall relatively early. Despite the fact that it was a buffet, they were expected to keep the same seating arrangements. During the trip, they would be seated at the same table, which they shared with another couple, also Dutch. They had met them briefly when they were just about to leave the dining hall and the couple was just entering.
Heleen turned her head to the Mediterranean. It was lying there so calmly behind them. A gentle breeze blew across the deck and made the flags, tied along the railing to welcome the new guests, dance. From the ship’s keel, small rippling waves made their way toward the infinite horizon, where the sun slowly started to disappear. She sucked the salty air into her lungs and looked forward to the wonderful holiday that lay ahead.
4
Heleen tried to smile as politely as possible at the woman sitting diagonally across from her. Angela Roof chewed on a piece of fillet tongue. Her facial expression didn’t leave much to the imagination. She obviously found it to be exceptional and divine. If there were even bigger words in the world to describe the food, she would undoubtedly find them. They didn’t need to have a deep conversation to conclude she was a woman of extremes. All you had to do was look at her.
“Heavenly,” she sighed with her eyes half-opened as she took a sip of her white wine.
“The steak is delicious as well,” Heleen added, trying to remain polite. The culinary experiences of her tablemate barely interested her, but she didn’t want to dampen the lovely atmosphere that prevailed. She put on her best face, just as Frank did. He also found the couple rather annoying.
“This cruise is awesome,” Johnny Roof blustered with conviction. Every time he said something, he would follow it with an exaggerated laugh, showing his bright-white teeth. He looked at Frank expectantly, waiting for a response.
“So far we think it’s really great,” Frank answered truthfully. “But this is our first time on a cruise ship.” He shrugged his shoulders.
“Then you have hit the bull’s eye on your first try. Believe me, we have taken dozens of trips like this and not one of them compares to the level of this first-class little boat.” Johnny made a grand gesture. “The Caribbean, the Red Sea, around the fjords, you name it, we’ve been there. Nice trips and beautiful places, but when it comes to luxury, this trip is true class.” He obviously found himself to be quite the connoisseur.
“But what kind of work do you do, Frank?”
“I’m in the travel business.”
“Not an inspector, I hope, because you will be hard-pressed to find any negative points here—mostly because there aren’t any!” Johnny laughed loudly at his own cleverness.
While Heleen forced another polite smile, she could see from the corner of her eye that Angela was barely paying attention to the conversation. While she ate, her eyes moved back and forth. Like a predator selecting its prey from a herd of deer. But Heleen didn’t get much of an opportunity to observe the odd behavior any further.
“What about you, Heleen?” Johnny wanted to know. “Do you work?”
“Office job. Part-time.”
The irritation in her voice was clearly audible.
“We run a beauty spa resort in the Veluwe,” Johnny continued, seemingly unfazed by her tone. “Sauna, whirlpool, and mud baths, massage, facials … well, you know. We offer the whole shebang to anyone who needs a little relaxation and pampering.”
“In the Veluwe? But I thought …”
“That’s where the business is, dear,” Angela answered sharply. “You don’t think we would live anywhere outside of Amsterdam, do you? Amstelveen would still be acceptable. But the Veluwe …” She rolled her eyes to emphasize her point.
Heleen bit her bottom lip to prevent herself from saying something she would later regret. Tall, bleach-blond Angela wore a low-cut dress, which accentuated her well-toned body and feminine shape. A sexy woman who was clearly aware of her outer appearance and flaunted it effortlessly. With her sensual appearance and smile and her provocative clothing, she balanced on the edge of decency. She definitely had a natural flair. A flirt, yes. Cheap, no. Perhaps some men would even see her as a woman with class.
Her husband was also blond and had a muscled body. Unlike Frank, who had naturally broad shoulders, Johnny’s muscles were obviously grown in the gym. Even though Johnny worked hard at being a big macho, it was clear to Heleen who wore the pants in the Roof family.
“What did you guys think of Naples?” It was the first decent thing that Heleen could come up with to ask them. The Columbus had gone straight from Nice to the southern Italian city. “And those ruins that survived the eruption of Mount Vesuvius?”
Angela gave her a bored look.
“If I want to take a city trip, then I’ll book one with Ryanair. That smelly city of Naples is one big tourist trap, and that is about the last thing I want right now. Just put me in a lounge chair with a drink in my hand and let me enjoy the view. That’s more my thing.”
She then gave Heleen an exaggerated wink, the meaning of which was unclear to Heleen.
“We are more the sun-worshipping type,” Johnny overclarified. “All those day trips aren’t really for us.”
While Johnny explained his vision of the perfect vacation, Heleen noticed that Angela was watching something again. Her eyes locked onto a couple seated to the left of them. The couple was easily ten years younger—Heleen guessed that Angela and Johnny were in their early forties—and Angela seemed completely engrossed in their intimate conversation. Much to her surprise, she saw how the man took a sip from his wine and looked past his wife. Suddenly there was eye contact between Angela and the unknown man. Though it wasn’t for much longer than a few seconds, Heleen was shocked by the intensity in their eyes.
Angela broke away, and the man picked up the conversation with his wife as if nothing had happened and there had never been this moment of intimate eye contact with someone else.
“Another wine, dear?” Johnny asked Angela.
Slowly, Heleen took another sip from her own wine and tried to search for an explanation for what she had just witnessed.
But the introduction to this couple had made an impression on her. Namely Angela’s appearance served as a mirror that she was forced to look at. In addition to the eye contact with th
e younger man, she noticed, out of the corner of her eye, that other men took notice of Angela as well. So was this what men really wanted? Thin, blond, challenging, and, in her opinion, a little tacky?
Did women like this speak to their imagination? Did they bring out the famous primal urge in a man? And where did she rank in this hierarchy of sexual attraction? Somewhere at the bottom? With reddish-brown hair just past her shoulders, average build, normal weight, medium height … she was ordinary, really.
While she contemplated what the definition of ordinary really was, she noticed how Frank was stoically listening to one of Johnny’s stories. He acknowledged Angela’s short additions to the story with a quick nod. In the sporadic moments when he looked at her, there wasn’t a trace of profound interest to be found, or a hint of lust in his eyes. He treated her in a friendly but reserved way. Secretly Heleen was relieved about that. She asked herself what she was even worried about. It wasn’t Frank’s style to cheat. So what was she doing to herself? Stop with all this nonsense about looks and outward appearances, she thought. She was a grown woman who had shared her life with this man for well over seventeen years, for God’s sake! It’s not like she was a sixteen-year-old teenager on her second date.
After dessert, they exchanged a few meaningless niceties with Angela and Johnny and then quickly left the dining hall. As far as they were concerned, dinner had taken far too long already. They were both in need of some fresh air. Far away from Mr. and Mrs. Roof.
5
“Rien ne va plus,” Heleen said, trying not to laugh. Frank played along and shook his head with self-pity.
“Unbelievable,” he stammered. “I was on a winning streak all night and then I sank like the Titanic.”
“I guess that makes me Kate Winslet.”
“Wow, really? Did you come up with that joke all by yourself?”
“I thought it was a good one.”
He pulled Heleen tightly against him and kissed her tenderly. His loss at the table no longer mattered.
“This is a really great wedding anniversary.”
“Absolutely,” Heleen agreed.
In the afterglow of this special day they strolled across the ship’s promenade deck. After breakfast they had spent the morning at the medina. The covered Tunisian market housed a large variety of fresh fruit, vegetables, and the usual tourist knickknacks. After playing the obligatory game of endless haggling, they had finally bought a wooden elephant. Before they agreed on the final purchasing price, the merchant made it clear very that it was a handmade statue from Africa. They nodded humbly, paid the man, and continued their stroll.
Then they took a walk through Sidi Bou Saïd. A guide led them through the streets filled with characteristic cottages painted white and blue. Everywhere they passed, they were met with sincere smiles. Tired and sweaty, they returned to the Columbus. After they had each taken a shower, Frank suddenly came up with the idea to go to the casino. Eat first and then go gambling. After all, it was their wedding anniversary and maybe that would bring them some luck tonight. They decided to have dinner early. That way they would still have the rest of the night free, and they would hopefully avoid their table partners. They had seen more than enough of Johnny and Angela. They could go and be beautiful, funny, and slightly tacky on their own.
Their last visit to a casino was at least ten years ago, after a night out in Amsterdam with a couple of Frank’s business associates. They were not really gamblers. Mostly, they enjoyed the atmosphere of excitement and nervousness. The disappointed faces when the roulette ball fell on the wrong number, or the complete euphoria after a good card was drawn and the house was defeated. It was a world in itself that was fun to visit for a few hours. But here on the ship the atmosphere was different than in a regular casino. There was more intimacy. The visitors were relaxing quietly and sipped from their champagne flutes, which were served by waiters on large trays. The croupiers had a very professional attitude, civilized and cordial. So the mood remained pleasant throughout the evening.
During the first hour, they mainly watched how an older German man lost thousands of euros at the roulette table, without it seeming to affect his mood at all. The man kept laughing and winking at his obviously much younger wife and showering her with compliments. The fact that she seemed to be losing just as much as her husband was didn’t seem to bother either one of them.
At the blackjack table, an Englishman was winning stacks of chips. Unlike most of the other guests, the corpulent man didn’t even crack a smile. He was probably a professional player, according to Frank. Someone who earned his money with counting cards. Why he did that on a cruise ship was a mystery to Heleen, but it didn’t really interest her.
Frank finally decided to play. Two chairs over from the Englishman a woman got up from the table. He took her place. He bought two hundred euro in chips and rubbed his hands together. The pregame excitement was fun, but now he was ready to jump in. Let the games begin!
He was lucky. He beat the dealer quite a few times; his pile of chips was stacking up. Heleen watched and quickly became swept up in the game. After the man next to Frank had had enough and left, she took his place without any hesitation. Frank smiled and pushed a stack of chips toward her. Much to her own surprise, she won her first game and proudly collected her profits.
They played blackjack for an hour and half, while enjoying champagne. At the end, they had a profit of one hundred euro.
While they casually strolled through the casino, Heleen grabbed another glass of champagne from a tray. She wanted to celebrate their profit and her own small contribution with a few sips. Frank, however, declined another glass. He walked straight to the roulette table with a very determined look on his face. He put a handful of chips on red right before the croupier called out, “Rien ne va plus.”
“The color of love.”
The ball fell on black.
Frank clapped his hands, showing his disappointment. Again he went for red. Again the ball fell on black, and the croupier raked in all his chips. This scenario repeated itself a total of four times. Frank was visibly irritated. When he went to reach for his wallet again, Heleen intervened. She placed her hand on his arm and looked at him intently.
“I don’t think that’s a very wise idea,” she whispered in his ear.
For a moment she thought she saw anger rising in his eyes. But she must have imagined it, because Frank nodded compliantly. “You’re right.” They walked around a little more and then they called it a night.
The water was calm and jet-black. The rustle of the wind and the murmur of the waves were all you could hear. A radiant sky seemed like an infinitely high ceiling. Somewhere on the dark horizon was Mallorca, their next destination, where they would stay for two days.
“God, this is beautiful,” Frank said. “I could stay here …”
“Just keep walking,” she hissed.
He looked at her with great surprise. “What …”
“Angela,” she answered curtly. She pulled Frank along with her. “She’s in a lounge chair to our right.”
“So what? She has every right to …”
“With a different guy. She looks like she is frisking him.”
Frank could barely suppress his laughter. Heleen looked at him reproachfully.
“Do you think this is funny? This is unbelievable! Messing around out here in the open, with some other man, while you’re on a romantic cruise with your husband?”
Even though they had already passed the lovebirds, they kept staring straight ahead during their not-so-casual conversation.
“So, it is true after all,” Frank said suddenly. The “danger zone” was now twenty feet behind them.
“What’s true?”
“That cruises are popular with people who like to swap partners.”
“How do you know that?”
“A colleague told me. I thought he was kidding, but now I’m starting to think he was serious.”
Heleen looked up at the im
mense and star-filled sky. This did explain some of Angela’s strange behavior.
“Oh well, everyone should do whatever makes them happy,” Frank said. “Who are we to judge or condemn someone else’s behavior?” He didn’t look nearly as relaxed as his words tried to suggest.
At first Heleen thought he must be joking. Frank Eldering, the ultraconservative who was never really very open about his political views, but deep in his heart didn’t care much for things like gay marriage, lighter jail sentences, leftists politics, or anything going in that direction. That same Frank was now suddenly very tolerant? She looked straight at him. She couldn’t put in to words what she saw. Confusion, that’s what it looked like the most. As if he was struggling with something. But Frank was a very self-assured and decisive person, who almost never doubted himself. If there was a problem, he would solve it. Oh well, maybe she thought she saw something in him because she was struggling herself. Without discussing the incident any further, they walked on.
6
“Bye, bye, Mallorca,” Heleen whispered. She put her head on Frank’s shoulder.
“It was nice,” he answered, and it sounded a little shallow. Even though she expected a little more enthusiasm from him, she could also understand his reaction. After all, he came to Mallorca regularly for his work. Once upon a time, this had been where mass tourism started in Spain, and it was still home base to many of the leading hotel chains. “It was very interesting,” Heleen pondered out loud. “It all seemed like déjà vu.”
They watched Palma de Mallorca’s skyline slowly fade away from their balcony. It was just after midnight, and the Columbus was headed to Barcelona. They would arrive there just before sunrise. After breakfast the passengers would enjoy all the sights the metropolis had to offer.
“You’re glowing,” Frank said, as if he were making a diagnosis. He sounded tired.
Cruise: A Thriller Page 2