by Janet Gover
The passengers, of course, were in a totally different class to all the crew. In more ways than one. They were the customers – not always right – but to be treated as if they were. This cruise was apparently the very latest in luxury adventure holidays … which meant the passengers would be rich and probably used to getting their own way.
It had all been totally foreign and totally exhausting, yet she’d still managed to find the energy every night to go up to deck eight. She told herself it was to look at the stars, and enjoy the fresh air while it was still warm. It wasn’t in the hope of seeing the mysterious passenger from the sauna – and it most definitely was not in the hope of seeing him in the sauna.
Jenny had met all of the expedition crew during the past few days, and quite a few of the hotel staff. As casually as she could, she’d mentioned the mysterious passenger in cabin 642. No one knew who he was. Speculation was rife as to his identity – and why he was on board. Some thought he was spying for their cruise line owners – looking for people to sack. Others thought he was some sort of security expert following up on a threat to the ship. That rumour had a sudden surge in popularity during the bomb drill. One small group thought he was some millionaire planning to buy the ship for his private use. The fact was – no one really knew. No one had even seen him, except the stewards who had taken meals to his cabin. Room service was not normally offered on board the Cape Adare, yet another mark of his VIP status. No one had seen him outside his cabin. No one that was, except Jenny, and she kept that incident to herself.
She was desperate to see him again. Well, no. Not desperate – that sounded awful. But she was intrigued. Who wouldn’t be?
‘That’s you done then,’ Karl’s voice reminded Jenny that she was in the middle of lifeboat training.
‘Sorry?’
‘That’s it. Finished. You passed. The lives of our passengers are now officially safe in your hands.’
‘God help them,’ Jenny muttered, but Karl just smiled.
‘You’ll do just fine. We dock in Hobart at 0600 tomorrow for passengers and supplies. You can go ashore between eight and twelve if you want. Any last minute shopping. That sort of thing.’
‘Great. Thanks.’
‘It’s going to get busy after that. We’ve got a full day and two nights at sea before our first excursion. That’s a lot of time to keep the passengers occupied. Are you ready for your first lecture?’
‘I think so. I’m going to work on it some more tonight.’
The ship’s library was on deck four – along with the lecture theatre, restaurant and one of the ship’s two bars. Jenny headed there immediately after dinner. The rest of the crew were crowded into the recreation spaces downstairs, making the most of their last night without passengers. Jenny was nervous about her on-board lectures, which was strange given that she had been teaching at university for the past two years. But that had been different. They were students. The passengers were … well … real people. People who had paid a lot of money for their cruise. She didn’t want to let them down. And she didn’t want to let Karl down either. The big Norwegian and his wife had been kind to her since her arrival. She was now fully equipped with uniforms – practical black slacks and crisp white shirts. As well as this, she had several heavy jumpers, thick socks and gum boots, a waterproof jacket, fur lined gloves (artificial fur of course) and a new rucksack stashed in her cabin. Everything a fashion conscious girl needed to walk into a freezer.
Jenny paused outside the library door, her eyes drifting towards the stairwell that led to deck eight and the sauna. No. Not tonight. Stalker was such an ugly word. Tonight she’d just work on her lectures.
The library was empty and quiet. Jenny opened her laptop and set to work. Karl had given her some material prepared by the lecturer whose place she had taken. There were notes and slides and handouts. All Jenny really needed to do was familiarise herself with them – and make sure she was ready to answer any questions her audience had. Luckily the library was full of books about Antarctica, and she piled several of them on the table next to her computer.
After working for about an hour, she ducked outside to the bathroom. As she was returning, she noticed someone behind the bar. The lights were on and for the first time since boarding the ship, Jenny decided she could use a drink.
‘Hi,’ she said to the girl behind the bar. ‘Are you open? Can I get a drink?’
‘We’re not officially open, but I guess I can manage something,’ the girl replied with a smile. ‘What do you want? Juice? Coke?’
‘Either is fine – as long as there is some vodka in it,’ Jenny replied.
The girl behind the bar laughed, and then frowned. ‘You’re joking, right?’
‘No, why would I be joking?’ Jenny asked
‘Because the crew aren’t allowed to drink …’ the girl answered, as if explaining something to a child.
‘I know we can’t drink if we are on duty. But there aren’t even any passengers on board.’
‘We are not allowed to drink on board. Ever. Passengers or not.’
Jenny let that sink in.
‘You mean, I can’t even have a glass of wine until we get back in … twenty days or something?’
‘That’s right.’
Jenny blinked a couple of times. ‘But that’s …’
The girl behind the bar looked at her with raised eyebrows. ‘You’ve been on board for two days now. Hadn’t you noticed there was no booze in the crew mess?’
She had, but she hadn’t really given it much thought. She’d had too many other things on her mind. Now that she did think about it she could see the logic. She wondered why Mr Schofield hadn’t said something during her interview back in Sydney. Come to think of it, he probably had. She really hadn’t been listening all that well.
‘Can I have a coke, please?’
‘Sure. On the house,’ the girl pulled a can from the fridge.
‘Thanks.’
Jenny hurried back towards the library. She could feel the girl’s eyes following her. She must think she had a drinking problem or something. Which she didn’t. She just liked a glass of wine with her meals. And maybe something a bit stronger after a tough day – and by all appearances, she had plenty of those ahead of her. Of course, she could always jump ship when they docked in Hobart next day. She smiled. Two days ago, she might have given that some serious thought, but now she was beginning to enjoy herself. The crew were friendly, if not yet friends. She was busy enough that it was easy to keep thoughts of Ray at bay – well, almost easy. There had been a few moments, lying alone in her cabin … But her busy days helped. Then there was the mysterious passenger in cabin 642 …
Jenny reached for the library door. As she did, the can of coke slipped from her fingers. It landed on the carpet with a dull thud, and rolled away. Jenny made a wild grab for it, and took it with her back into the library. She put the can down on the table, eyeing it suspiciously. She wasn’t about to open it now. She’d made that mistake before.
She resumed her seat, opened her laptop and set to work again, a notebook close by her hand. She had just about completed her notes when a voice spoke very close to her ear.
‘Would you mind – that’s really quite annoying.’
Jenny jumped to her feet, dropping the pen she had been holding. ‘What?’
The mysterious man from the sauna bent over to retrieve the pen. His strong fingers curled around it, then depressed the end. Click. He did it again. Click. And again. Click. Click.
‘I’m sorry,’ Jenny said, realisation coming to her. ‘I do that when I’m working.’
‘Maybe you should get a pen that doesn’t click,’ the man said.
‘Ah, yes. I will.’
Up close and clothed, he was equally as gorgeous as he’d been in the sauna. His eyes, she was surprised to discover, were blue. A darker blue than any she had seen before. With his fair skin and dark hair, it was quite a startling face. Startling and compelling. He obviously hadn
’t shaved for a day or two. The stubble on his jaw was as dark as his hair. He was wearing a polo shirt, the open neck giving just a tantalising glimpse of dark hair on his chest. She remembered how that chest had looked in the sauna, glistening with sweat that trickled down his skin towards …
‘Your pen?’ He was holding it out to her. His voice was a perfect match for his perfect face and body. Dark and rich … not Darth Vader so much as dark chocolate.
‘Ah. Yes. Thanks.’ She took it, being very careful that her fingers didn’t touch his as she did. If their fingers touched, she would be electrocuted. She was sure of it.
‘Goodnight.’ He headed for the door.
Jenny watched him move. He had great shoulders, legs that went on forever and the best bum she had seen in a long time. He paused by the door, and turned back towards her, his lips twitching in a smile. He knew she’d been watching him!
Flustered, Jenny dropped back into her chair, and busied herself opening her can of drink. She pulled the ring tab on the can and it exploded, spraying foamy cold liquid across the table.
‘Crap!’ Jenny directed the spray away from her precious laptop. The dark foam splattered across the back of a chair.
Mortified, Jenny darted across to a metal waste bin, using it to catch the last of the drink dripping from the can. Her hands were covered in sweet sticky liquid. The dark stains on her clothes were from the same source. The can in her hand was now considerably lighter, and still dripping.
‘Damn it!’ With a sigh of exasperation, she let the can fall, gently, into the waste bin. Now it was someone else’s problem. Too embarrassed to look up, she stared down at the table, to see a few drops of thick dark liquid trickling down the screen of her laptop. And the book next to it was starting to crinkle.
‘Shit and double shit!’ Jenny pulled her white uniform shirt out of her slacks and used the tail to wipe the computer screen. Then she dabbed at the book.
‘Try this.’ Her companion had returned to her side. He held out his handkerchief.
‘Thanks.’ Jenny patted the book a bit more. It was a large hardback, full of spectacular colour photographs of Antarctica. On the open page, a penguin’s face was starting to appear rather soggy. ‘He looks a bit sad now, doesn’t he?’
The man beside her chuckled. The sound sent a pleasant tingle up her spine. ‘I’ve never seen a cheerful penguin.’
This time, Jenny laughed. She turned away from the book and looked back up into the blue eyes. ‘I truly am sorry. About the swearing. If you want to complain to the captain, my name is Jenny Payne. I’m an expedition specialist.’
‘Pleased to meet you, Jenny Payne, expedition specialist.’ He held out his hand.
Jenny placed her hand in his. Instead of the shock she had expected, the hand that closed around hers seemed almost cold. Strong … but there was no warmth in it.
‘I’m pretty sure the captain doesn’t need to know about this.’ He detached his hand from hers. ‘Goodnight.’
‘Goodnight.’
Jenny watched him walk away. It wasn’t until after the door had closed behind him that she realised he had not told her his name. She let her gaze fall to the handkerchief on the table, next to the coke stained book.
‘Who is that man?’ she asked, but the sad, soggy penguin did not reply.
Chapter Five
‘What a nice looking ship,’ Vera Horsley said as she approached the big vessel tied up next to the dock. ‘Don’t you think so, my dear?’
Her daughter walking next to her didn’t look too enthused. ‘Are you sure you want to do this Mum?’
‘Of course I’m sure. Why shouldn’t I want to do this?’
‘Antarctica seems such a long way. And you’ll be missing Christmas dinner with the family. Maybe you should wait until someone can come with you. When the kids are back at college, I could …’
‘Nonsense, Mary. I’ll be fine by myself. Just because I’m not as young as I was, there’s no call for you to start thinking I’m in my dotage. Seventy is not old.’
‘No, Mum.’
Everything about Mary’s voice suggested that she actually thought seventy- year-old mothers should be whiling away their days knitting shawls, and not setting out on expeditions to the South Pole. Vera chose to ignore her.
‘I am sorry about Christmas,’ she added in a conciliatory tone. ‘But this was the only cruise available. And Christmas in Antarctica does sound like fun.’
Mary gave a derisive snort.
‘If you could just help me with my bag,’ Vera said, ‘you don’t have to wait around until the ship sails. I shall be perfectly all right on my own.’ Vera did not add that she’d prefer to explore the ship alone, without her daughter’s disapproval to spoil her fun.
A large section of the massive steel hull appeared to have been folded up, creating an opening in the ship’s side. A long, gently sloping ramp led to a set of stairs which would take her into the brightly-lit interior. Vera settled her large purple bag more comfortably on her arm and took a firm grip on the railing. Despite her brave words to her daughter, her not-quite-as-young-as-it-used-to-be body did sometimes let her down, and she wasn’t going to risk a fall now. Nothing was going to keep her from being on board this ship as it sailed out of the Derwent River estuary, leaving Hobart in its wake.
‘Welcome aboard the Cape Adare.’ A young man in uniform was standing at the top of the ramp.
‘Thank you,’ Vera felt just the tiniest thrill as she stepped over the threshold.
‘If you go through there, the receptionist will help you.’
Vera followed his instructions, and made her way to a lovely polished wooden desk. ‘This is just like checking in to a hotel,’ she told the girl behind the desk.
‘Yes, Ma’am. That’s exactly what it’s like. And here is your room key,’ the girl presented her with a piece of hard plastic about the size of a credit card. ‘This also allows us to keep a record of who enters and leaves the ship,’ the girl added. ‘So you will have to present it whenever you set out on an excursion. And when you come back. That way we can be sure you don’t get left behind.’ The girl grinned.
‘I’m not so sure about those excursions, Mother.’ Mary said as they set out in search of Vera’s cabin. ‘Reading the brochure, they sounded a bit much for you. Open boats. Walking on the ice. You need to be careful.’
‘I will be,’ Vera said, thinking all the while that the excursions sounded rather fun.
‘Now, Mother, you are on deck five. The Shackleton Suite. Cabin number 543. The lifts are just over here.’
Vera looked about with interest as they made their way to her cabin. The ship was more luxurious than she had thought it would be. The blue carpets were thick and soft. The pastel shaded walls adorned with rather lovely framed photographs of ships and icebergs and assorted wild things. She was starting to feel very excited.
‘Here you are, Mum. This door looks like it’s made of iron. Isn’t that going to be difficult for you to manage?’
‘Not at all,’ Vera gritted her teeth, trying to appear at ease as she swung the heavy door open.
Mary followed her in to the cabin, and deposited her bag on the bed. ‘It’s supposed to be a suite. This doesn’t look like a suite. It’s awfully small. I should go back and talk to that girl at reception. She must have made a mistake.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ Vera said sharply. ‘It said the name of the suite on the door. This is the right cabin. It’s more than enough room for me, and look, there’s a balcony.’
‘Won’t that be a bit cold when you get right down … there?’
Vera suppressed a sigh. Mary wasn’t that bad. Not really. She was just a terrible fusspot who worried about anything and everything. She’d worry if she had nothing to worry about. In moments of absolute honesty, Vera knew she was partly to blame for that. Mary had always been of a nervous disposition, and it can’t have been easy for her, as a child, to overhear all those conversations about grisly crimes and m
urder trials. She was making this much fuss because she loved her mother, and didn’t want her going to such a wild and distant place on her own. Although Vera understood all that, and loved her daughter dearly, it was hard to take sometimes.
‘I’m sure it will be just lovely. After all, it is summer.’
‘Yes, but I read that the temperature never gets above freezing down there – even in summer.’
‘I’m well prepared.’ Vera opened her suitcase, the woolly contents of which immediately overflowed onto the bed. ‘You’ve made sure I have everything I need.’
‘Well …’
‘I’m fine. Honestly. Why don’t you head off now? I’ll just unpack. Look, there’s a kettle. I can make a nice cup of tea and then later on I shall go on deck as we sail.’
‘All right then, Mother. If you’re absolutely certain …?’
‘I am.’ Vera felt an unexpected wave of affection as she hugged her daughter goodbye. ‘Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.’
‘You call me. Or get one of the staff to help you e-mail, if they have it. Just so I know you are all right.’
Vera nodded. Mary had never quite grasped the fact that her short, elderly, grey-haired mother probably spent more time in front of a computer than she did. The sound of the door closing brought a wave of welcome relief to Vera. She made no attempt to unpack. Or to make a cup of tea. She found the ship’s information brochure on the desk and studied the plan. The passenger observation lounge looked good. It had a bar. Vera wondered if it was too early in the day for a G&T. Surely not. Not when she was about to begin the adventure of a lifetime. A small cocktail wouldn’t hurt. She opened the door and looked down the hallway. Mary had long since vanished. Slipping her room key into her voluminous handbag next to her notebook and pen, Vera set off in search of adventure.