Table For Eight

by Tricia Stringer

  Tien was next, with a similar small frame to Ning’s but not so calm in manner. “Don’t carry anything from strangers.” She wagged her finger and Ketty agreed she wouldn’t. Tien’s favourite television show was Border Security and she often regaled them with stories of ill-fated international travellers.

  Ketty moved on to Birgit.

  “And no playing up.” She grinned at Ketty. “Unless he’s a good-looking lad and then it will be all right.”

  Ketty chuckled. Birgit was half her age and sounded more Irish than the Irish even though she’d been born in Australia.

  “Thank you all for keeping on while I’m away. You know I appreciate it and I’m sure Judith will have everything in hand.”

  Birgit gave an eye roll. “She will. Now don’t be worrying about us. You head off and God bless.”

  For a moment Ketty hesitated but Birgit shooed her towards the door and she was sent on her way to the chorus of their goodbyes. The weight of the decisions she had to make made their farewells all the more poignant. By the time she had trundled her case and overnight bag out to the front room of the shop she felt as if she’d been through the wringer.

  Lacey was talking on the phone. Ketty gave her a wave and looked out the window; no sign of the taxi yet. Judith opened the front door for her.

  “Miss Ketty?”

  She turned back. Lacey had put down the phone, her brown eyes dark circles in her pale face. “That was the customer who came two weeks ago and wanted the six bridesmaids’ dresses and the two flower girls’.”

  Ketty held her breath.

  “She’s cancelled.”

  “Why?” Judith asked before Ketty could, her tone much sharper than Ketty’s would have been.

  “She’s seen what she wanted on the internet.”

  “She’ll lose her deposit.” Judith shut the door firmly, bringing a harsh rattle from the bell.

  “We don’t have it.”

  “Why ever not? It’s your job to make sure we’ve received deposits before we order fabric and the fabric has already arrived. I shelved it myself.”

  “It’s not Lacey’s fault.” Both employees turned to Ketty. “I ordered the fabric. I thought it would create work that could be done while I was gone. Perhaps you can see about returning it, Judith.”

  “The hot pink shantung for the flower girls perhaps, but not the bolts of bridesmaids’ fabric. That was from Delia’s Designs and they don’t take returns.”

  Ketty sighed. The last of her pre-holiday excitement whooshed away like air from a deflating balloon. She had been secretly appalled by the bride’s choice of fabric for her attendants and she shouldn’t have ordered without the deposit but she’d been so desperate to leave work for her employees in her absence she’d taken the risk. “Perhaps we can use it for something else?”

  Judith’s eyebrows raised. “Multicoloured retro stretch jersey – and a paisley design to boot! – hasn’t ever been used here before and I cannot possibly imagine who would want it.”

  Ketty’s heart sank even further. What would they do with two full bolts of that?

  A car horn tooted outside.

  “That’s the taxi.” Judith pulled Ketty into a stiff hug.

  Ketty hesitated. “I can’t leave you with this mess.”

  “Of course you can.” Judith put a guiding hand on Ketty’s back and opened the door again. “We’ll sort it.”

  “You have a fab holiday, Miss Ketty, and don’t worry about anything. We will make sure every client feels special in your absence.” Lacey gave an emphatic nod of her head then collected Ketty’s overnight bag and followed them outside. “Mrs Pettigrew and I will hold the fort.”

  Ketty smiled as Judith’s eyebrows shot even higher. She turned away quickly, overwhelmed by their generosity.

  The bags were loaded and Judith had bundled her into the taxi before she had time to draw breath. She lowered the window. “I can keep my phone on if you need to ring or email.”

  “Don’t bother,” Judith said. “We won’t.”

  The taxi driver became animated over her destination.

  “White Bay? You are going on a cruise?”

  “Yes.”

  As the taxi pulled away she twisted in her seat for one last glimpse of her two employees, one tall, one petite, hands raised in farewell. The ornate facade of Ketty Clift Couture shone brightly against a blue Sydney sky and then it was gone. She would like to be a fly on the wall and watch over them all while she was away. This was the first time she’d left for longer than a day since Lacey had joined them a year ago. Her predecessor had been in awe of Judith Pettigrew. Not so Lacey.

  A design student, she had turned up in a long lace dress and knee-high boots, wanting to learn the trade from Ketty. Business had been in decline for a while and Ketty knew now she should never have employed her. Ketty and Judith would have absorbed the duties somehow but something about the young woman had appealed. Lacey’s clothes were a little alternative for a couture dressmaking establishment but she was smart and enthusiastic, qualities Ketty admired. Ketty also loved to know that each time a customer rang they were greeted by ‘Ketty Clift Couture, Lacey speaking’ in the young woman’s melodic tone, a perfect welcome.

  Ketty sighed. She’d been careful with her money but she hadn’t imagined her business would be struggling at this stage of her life. She’d had to dip into her savings to help pay wages twice in the last few months. Over her lifetime she had made adjustments, planned for a future that perhaps hadn’t worked out the way she had envisaged in her twenties. She had few regrets but if she had to lay off staff or, worse, close her doors altogether, she would be heartbroken. Now she felt torn by her longing to escape her troubles for a short time and indulge herself in her holiday. Only once in her life had she run away from something and she’d vowed never to do it again and yet now that’s exactly what she was doing, prolonging the inevitable.

  “You are so lucky to be going on a cruise.”

  Ketty’s eyes met the smiling look of the driver in the rear-view mirror.

  “Yes.” Ketty knew she was, but everyone’s definition of lucky was different. She snuggled back into the seat. The business was out of her control for the moment. The future would be waiting for her when the cruise was over and she would deal with it then. There would be answers, she just hadn’t found them yet.

  “There she is.” The driver gave a low whistle. “Magnificent.”

  Ketty took in her first glimpse of the Diamond Duchess between the giant diagonal struts of Anzac Bridge as they flashed by. The driver’s enthusiasm was infectious. She felt the weight begin to ease on her shoulders. If she was going to run away she was certainly going to do it in style.

  “You are lucky to be going on this ship,” he said again.

  “I am.”

  “Have you been on a cruise before?”

  “Yes, I have, many times.”

  He let out a low whistle. “Very lucky.”

  The ship was lost from her view now as they wound their way off the bridge and down to harbour level. Ketty put away her phone, dug in her bag for her mirror and checked her lipstick; she dragged her hair back from her forehead and patted the waves that bounced around her ears. Her hair had been long enough to roll up into a chignon until her visit to the hairdresser yesterday. She always had something different done to it before she cruised; it was a small gesture, part of her transformation from everyday dressmaker Ketty to the more adventurous, glamorous shipboard Ketty. A gleam in her eyes reflected back from the mirror. She closed the lid with a smile and added mischievous to her list.

  The driver manoeuvred seamlessly through the traffic and came to a stop in front of the terminal. She paid him and bid him farewell, then paused to take in the grand outline of the Diamond Duchess. The clouds were disappearing and there was nothing but blue sky beyond the ship berthed on the edge of the harbour. Ketty stared at the white monolith and felt her heart beat faster, just as thrilled to see it as she had been the firs
t time. Like her, the Duchess had aged and this was to be her final voyage. Perhaps mine too if the accountant has his way, Ketty thought.

  Her gaze swept the rows of windows above the line of the wharf and then on up to the yawning openings of the promenade deck with life boats suspended in each. Higher again were row after row of balconies like hundreds of open eyes, some with people already leaning on their rails, and then on higher – she craned her neck to see the top – gleaming white and sparkling glass against a brilliant blue sky. It never looked real to her, a giant Gulliver and she part of the Lilliput world it was tethered to. Her home for the next ten days. A fizz of joy bubbled inside her and she recalled the taxi driver’s words. Yes, she was very lucky.

  Ketty made her way across the cement apron to the terminal, towing her cases behind.

  “Kathy?”

  Ketty tried to turn but she was swept along with the surge of excited people around her. None were paying her particular attention. No one had called her Kathy for years. She was hearing things. There was bound to be someone else by that name in this huge crowd. She hesitated. It had been more about the tone of the voice than the name itself.

  She gave a small shake of her head, gripped the handles of her cases tighter and moved on into the cavernous space of the terminal. There she merged with the crowd, already transforming herself as she took her place among the two thousand passengers making their way through the protracted customs, security and myriad of embarkation procedures to enable them to board ship for a cruising holiday in the South Pacific.

  Two

  Day One – White Bay Cruise Terminal, Sydney

  The sun sparkled off the many windows of the gantry that stretched from the terminal building to the ship, a temporary connection allowing passengers entry to cruise paradise. An hour had passed since she’d arrived at the terminal but now the last of the red tape and security checks were done and Ketty was on her way. Excitement escalated with every one of her echoing footsteps, taking her to the top of the gentle incline.

  “Welcome aboard, Miss Clift.” The purser’s smile was wide.

  “Thank you,” she said and moved on and around the photographers capturing passengers’ happy smiles as they embarked. Ketty had so many cruise photos, she didn’t need another.

  Only a few steps along a short passage and she reached the atrium. She stopped. There was no movement and yet an imperceptible beat pulsed here. To her it was the heart of the ship, stretching up four floors like a mini shopping mall. It housed boutiques, cafes, bars and restaurants all overflowing with food and items to tempt. Everything gleamed, from the polished wood handrails, to the glass balustrades and marble floor. Potted palms towered up into the open spaces, glass lifts travelled up and down and music mingled with the hum of happy voices. Ketty inhaled the fresh smell she liked to call ocean breeze, a hint of vanilla and something else. She never tired of her first minutes aboard ship, absorbing the atmosphere, remodelling herself. Here no one knew her as Ketty Clift Couture. A delicious ripple of delight swept through her as she indulged herself in the anonymity of being simply Ketty Clift.

  “Ketty?”

  She spun at the sound of her name.

  “Ketty Clift, it is you!”

  Ketty took in the tall, good-looking woman walking towards her, hand luggage in tow. Her thick blonde hair was beautifully coiffured and her clothes were well cut and stylish. A softly draped scarf picked out the pink in her patterned blouse. Ketty hadn’t seen Josie Keller for two years but it seemed only a short time since they’d cruised together.

  “Josie, how marvellous to see you.”

  They drew each other into a hug then stepped apart.

  “It’s good to see you too, Ketty.”

  Ketty looked over Josie’s shoulder. “Is your friend Pam with you again?”

  “No.” Josie leaned closer. “I’ve brought my brother with me this time. He was a bit down in the dumps. Work not going well, relationship over, the usual lows. I decided he needed cheering up. I should introduce you.” She glanced around. “He was here a minute ago.”

  “Well, a cruise is certainly the place to forget all your troubles.”

  “And have some fun. Didn’t we enjoy ourselves last time?”

  “We did.”

  “He and I could both do with someone new in our lives.” Josie began to sing ‘Love is in the Air’. She laughed. “Remember our theme song?”

  Ketty chuckled. The tune was played regularly aboard ship. “But what happened to the man you met last cruise? You caught up with him while you were in Sydney having your dress fitting, didn’t you?”

  “I did.” Josie wrinkled her nose. “It fizzled out. I live in Brisbane, he’s in Sydney. He found someone closer to home. I wasn’t heartbroken. It was fun while it lasted.”

  Ketty admired the way Josie looked at life. If something wasn’t working she didn’t dwell on it but picked up and moved on. They’d met on a cruise to Papua New Guinea, two years prior.

  “You’re looking splendid as ever.”

  “Thanks to you.” Josie’s smile was wide. “The makeover you did for me on that cruise was such a turning point. It changed the way I looked for clothes.”

  Ketty had made a few style suggestions for Josie, who was tall with a rounded but still trim figure, and she’d ended up having a dress made at Ketty’s shop after the cruise.

  “I only suggested minor variations.”

  “Minor! I had a wardrobe full of crop pants and leggings that I donated to Vinnies. Now it’s only ever seven-eighths length tailored pants for me. And I wear more styles that define my waist rather than try to hide it, as you suggested.” Her phone pinged and she glanced at the screen. “Excuse me, Ketty. It’s my brother.”

  Ketty watched the passing passengers, some strolling by as if they’d been here before, and others looking a little overwhelmed.

  “Sorry about that. He’s gone up to our suite already.” Josie dropped her phone back in her bag. “You and I will have to meet up for a coffee or a cocktail or two.”

  “I’ll look forward to it.”

  Josie strode away humming ‘Love is in the Air’ again. Ketty smiled. It was going to be a happy voyage, she was sure of it.

  She grasped the handle of her cabin bag and made her way out of the busy hub and on to a flight of carpeted stairs that led all the way to the top of the ship. There was also a bank of lifts but Ketty preferred the stairs; that way she never had to use a gym. She paused for a breath when she reached her deck level.

  “Are we at the back of the boat or the front?” A woman stood nearby, peering at the large ship plan on the wall. Her companion leaned over her shoulder and jabbed his finger at the diagram.

  “It says we’re here.”

  “Can I help?” Ketty couldn’t resist.

  “We’re trying to find the buffet.” The woman gave her a harried look.

  “Keep going up these stairs. Three more flights and you can’t miss it.”

  The man groaned. “Let’s take the lift.”

  “They’re always busy at boarding time,” Ketty said. “The stairs are probably quicker.”

  “Thank you.” The woman gave a grateful smile. “We’ve been busy all day and we’re starving.”

  They set off and Ketty turned left into the corridor, anticipation speeding her footsteps. She found her cabin number.

  “Hello ma’am, welcome aboard.” The smiling steward paused beside her. “I am Peter, your room steward. Please let me know if I can assist you in any way.”

  “Thank you, Peter. I’ll be sure to.” Being spoiled was another part of Ketty’s joy. She’d hardly have to lift a finger for the next week and a half.

  She inserted her card, the lock light went green and she pushed open the door. It was a balcony room. In the past, she’d travelled with friends but in more recent times she’d more often cruised alone and usually she had an interior room. Rarely could she afford a balcony. This was an indulgence. She wouldn’t have come on this
cruise at all but she had elite passenger status with the Diamond line and her trip had been a lucky deal paid for several months ago, a birthday gift to herself. Ketty found it hard to think of herself as turning sixty-five when in her head she still felt forty. Where had the time gone? She’d certainly never imagined when she embarked on her first Diamond Duchess cruise that she’d become a frequent traveller. It felt rather odd to be offered special rates and priority check-in, as well as all the other perks, like access to the Diamond Lounge. And here she was in a balcony room. Ketty felt like a duchess herself.

  She took a deep breath, let it out slowly and looked around the room. Her case was already on the queen bed, a mat below it to protect the bed cover. She opened every cupboard and drawer, inspected the bathroom, ran her hand over the silky soft pillows, sat on the padded lounge chair, then she rolled open the heavy glass door leading to the balcony and sat in one of the two deckchairs using the little table as a foot stool. She was port side and high above the gantry that had led her aboard. She stood and leaned out over the rail. Workers in high-vis vests were busy on the wharf below her and, in the distance, she could see the familiar shape of the Harbour Bridge. Ketty stepped back inside and swept another look around the room. It was all perfect.

  Her phone pinged. She removed it from her bag to discover a text from her nephew, Greg, wishing her bon voyage. She smiled. He was such a thoughtful young man. Her brother’s only child, she regarded Greg as her nearest and dearest. Just a shame he lived interstate. She didn’t see him all that often but he stayed with her whenever he came to Sydney. She tapped a quick reply and checked her phone again. No other messages or missed calls. Judith wouldn’t disturb her holiday if her life depended on it. Ketty turned the phone off and tucked it into the side pocket of her handbag. Neither would be needed again until her return to Sydney.

  She threw open her case, her bulging overnight bag, the wardrobe doors and all the drawers then began to unpack. She smoothed each garment as she hung it, savouring the different textures of the fabrics, turning down a collar, fluffing a skirt. It was such a thrill to have the opportunity to wear some of the clothes she had delicately restored or remodelled and of course she was always hopeful the extras she brought might suit someone else in need of a wardrobe addition. Running into Josie again had been a delight. Ketty pondered who else was aboard she might know. She hung the special necklace bag bulging with more jewellery than she would need for herself, then plucked up a black lace wrap and draped it around her shoulders. Perhaps, once again, she would find someone in need of its sensual luxury.