I heard a sound behind me in the corridor and turned – it was the butler with the early evening canapé service.
‘Did you see her today?’ I asked, nodding towards the room. ‘Mrs Templeton?’
The butler looked up in the air while he thought. ‘No,’ he said eventually. ‘She was out when I came to service the cabin.’
‘Oh. What time was that?’
‘Ten o’clock? Maybe eleven o’clock? Later than usual because she hadn’t put the “make up my room” light on.’
I nodded slowly. ‘Oh okay. So she got up and went out. Maybe she went into Santorini after all.’
The butler stood poised with a plate of canapés. ‘Is there anything I can help you with?’
‘Are you delivering those? Can I just see if she’s in the room?’
The butler knocked on Mum’s door. ‘Turn-down!’ he called. When there was no response, he unlocked the door and propped it open. Feeling strangely like I was trespassing, I peered in behind him.
‘Is she there?’
‘No.’ He was setting up the canapés on the dining table.
‘Not on the balcony?’
‘No. Sorry Madam.’
I knocked on John’s door before going for dinner.
‘Have you seen Mum today?’
‘No.’
‘Me neither.’ I started to turn away.
‘Are you about to go for dinner?’ John asked.
‘Yes. Yes, I was. Maybe she’ll already be there.’
‘If you can wait a couple of minutes, I’ll come with you.’
‘Sure,’ I said, and he opened the cabin door wider, indicating that I should come in. It was the first time I’d been inside his cabin and I stood awkwardly by the door, looking around. In contrast to my own cabin, where I kept the balcony doors open to catch the sea breeze, the air-conditioning was on and not a pin was out of place. Aside from the guide books on the table, the room could have been uninhabited; the bed pristine, no clothes or shoes lying around. I moved to the living are, hovered a bit, then sat gingerly on the sofa.
‘I wonder where Mum got to today,’ I said. ‘I hope she made it into Santorini.’
‘Probably.’ John was fiddling in the wardrobe. I heard the rustle of plastic.
‘She got up,’ I said, ‘I know that much. The butler said her room was empty by about ten or eleven, as he cleaned it. But whether she went into Santorini, I’ve no idea.’ I paused. John said nothing. ‘It’s a shame if she didn’t go in because she would have loved it. There were some beautiful art shops. I bought her a painting.’
‘I’m sure she went into Santorini. Why wouldn’t she?’ John looked at me around the wardrobe door.
‘Because she was tired? Maybe she had a hangover?’
‘So maybe she had a lie-in first.’ John shrugged.
‘It’s just odd, that’s all. I’d have thought one of us would have seen her.’
‘Lex. We’re moving about in a pack of three thousand people. Nine thousand plus on shore when other ships are in.’ He disappeared behind the wardrobe door again and the rustling sounds recommenced.
‘Aren’t you worried?’ I said.
‘No! Maybe she went for a late breakfast … maybe she went into Santorini; maybe she didn’t. Maybe she lay by the pool. Stranger things have happened.’
I didn’t say anything.
‘Does it really matter?’
‘It’s just odd, that’s all. Odd that we’ve not seen her around.’
‘It’s a big ship.’ John emerged from the wardrobe with a bundle of clothes in his arms. ‘She was tired. She had a lie-in. She had a late breakfast and spent the day on the ship. There are a million things to do on board and she’d probably had enough of Greek islands by now. She probably took one look at that mountain up to Fira and decided that it was too much for her to cope with without you. Remember, she is seventy. Anyway … excuse me …’ he waved a shirt at me. ‘Need to get changed.’
‘Oh. Okay.’
I slid open the balcony door and stepped outside. John closed the curtain behind me, blanking out the light that came from the cabin. The sun hung just above the horizon and the sea had turned golden, reflecting the colours of the sunset. From the height of the eighth deck, the water looked calm but I realised, looking down, that what appeared to be mere ripples on the surface were actually waves a couple of feet high. Occasionally one broke and a mass of white foam appeared. I leaned over the edge of the balcony and stared at the water, scanning the surface for the dolphins I’d heard sometimes swam alongside cruise ships. In the far distance I could make out the shape of another cruise ship heading in the same direction as us. I imagined passengers on that ship sipping gin and tonics on their balconies, watching us watching them.
The door slid open. ‘Ready,’ said John.
‘Coming.’ I stepped back into the cabin. John looked uncharacteristically stylish. ‘Wow,’ I said. ‘New clothes?’
‘Yep,’ said John. ‘Well … y’know …’ He looked sheepish.
My eyes widened as I realised what he meant.
‘Seriously? Don’t get carried away with this! It could be years.’
‘Yeah, but … I so needed a few new clothes. For goodness’ sake, Lex, don’t be so melodramatic. Right, shall we go?’
The buffet was circular, which gave me a chance to walk around the restaurant, surreptitiously checking the tables for Mum while I selected my dinner. Each time I stood up to get another dish, I did another round. Mum wasn’t there. For dessert, I helped myself to some fruit and carried my bowl the entire way around the restaurant one more time.
‘You took your time,’ said John as I sat back down. He was already halfway through his apple crumble.
‘I did another lap. She wouldn’t have gone to a formal restaurant on her own, would she?’
‘Maybe she met someone.’
‘Like who?’
‘I don’t know. Some other oldie? Maybe they met in the library, or at some oldies’ class, and hit it off. Maybe she’s been with a new friend all day. Maybe she’s having dancing classes with Stavros. Look Lexi, you’ve got to stop worrying. We’re on a ship, for heaven’s sake. She can’t have gone far.’
‘It just doesn’t feel right. Why hasn’t she got in touch? She could have phoned one of our rooms and left a message.’
John put down his spoon and glared at me.
‘Stop. Worrying!’ He emphasised the words, as if talking to a dunce. Then he shook his head and started to eat again. A piece of crumble trembled on his lip. I pushed my pudding to one side and sighed. Was I worrying unnecessarily?
‘It’s probably a plan,’ John said, talking with his mouth ful, ‘to push us together. She’s probably watching from some hiding place. You know how she’s always going on about how we “only have each other.” She probably wants to see whether we speak to each other when she’s not here. I mean, pushing us onto this cruise together gives her the perfect opportunity to watch us. A social experiment, maybe.’
‘I hope you’re right.’
After dinner, I said goodnight to John at my cabin door but, after he closed his door, I walked quickly back to the lifts and up to the tenth floor. I rapped smartly on Mum’s door, hoping beyond all hope that she’d appear at the door with an explanation of why she’d been out of touch. It would be so obvious! We’d laugh about how silly I’d been. But there was no reply.
I took the lift down to the lobby. I’d seen notepads on the coffee tables there and I scribbled a quick note to Mum: ‘Call me when you get this – A xx’, took the lift back up, and left it tucked behind the room number on her door.
Back in my room I took off my shoes, sat on the bed, and flicked on the television: pictures, voices, but nothing went in. I shifted around on the bed, twirling my hair around my fingers, then I clicked off the television and walked over to the wardrobe. I opened the door, looked in, shuffled through my clothes, touched the life vests that were stored overhead, then closed the wardro
be. I stared at the deck plan on the back of my cabin door, hoping for inspiration. Where could she be? In the corridor outside, I heard the sound of someone approaching. I opened the door and stuck my head out, ready to see Mum, but a couple walked past, their arms entwined around each other.
‘Evening.’
‘Evening.’
I shut the door, went over to the table and poured out a glass of wine from the bottle I kept in my cabin. A rush of warm air greeted me as took the wine out onto the balcony and slumped into the chair, putting my feet up on the railing. I started out into the darkness. It was a clear night and the stars seemed to mirror the small breaks of the waves that caught the moonlight. It was difficult to tell where sea ended and sky began. In the distance, the other cruise ship was still sailing parallel to us, lit up like a Christmas tree. I couldn’t get comfortable. I shifted in the chair, tried different positions, then got up with a sigh, went back inside, and dialled Mum’s number.
After a few tinny rings, the phone went to the messaging service. I dialled again, imagining Mum padding towards the phone just as it stopped ringing. Again – no reply. I threw myself backwards onto the bed and lay there for a minute, then I sat up and looked around the room. On the desk lay the pile of papers that had accumulated during the cruise: port information, itineraries, special offers, ship information. Rummaging through the pile of brochures and fliers, I found the full deck plan of the ship. Grabbing a piece of paper and a pen, I made a note of every place Mum could be: the spa, the gym, the champagne bar, any of the restaurants and cafés, the library, the internet café, the lobby coffee bar, the games room, the promenade deck, the theatre, the shops. I threw the paper down with a sigh. There were just too many places to search, but I couldn’t sit here and do nothing; I slipped my feet back into my sandals, grabbed my key, and headed out.
I took the lift to the Deck 13 and started there. I walked to the front of the ship and made my way to the back, looking in every public area that I saw. When my search drew a blank. I walked down the stairs to Deck 12 and repeated the search. I did this all the way down to the promenade on Deck 4. Below that was the staff quarters and engine rooms – she wasn’t going to be down there. On the promenade deck, I stood again at the railing and looked down at the water. Here, I was much closer to the sea and I could hear the sound of the waves breaking on the ship’s bow as it sliced its way through the water. We were going fast and the wind whipped my hair around my face. I caught site of myself in the window: Medusa. A monster.
I turned and made my way back to the lifts. Back on Deck 8, I paused outside my room, then knocked on John’s door. Inside, I heard shuffling, then some sort of grunt. It was apparent when John opened the door that he’d been asleep – the cabin was in darkness and he was wearing pyjamas.
‘What?’ he said, his face scrumpled up to the light in the corridor.
‘I can’t find Mum. I’ve searched the whole ship.’
‘What do you mean “searched”?’
‘You know: walked about looking.’
‘Did it occur to you that she’s probably in bed with her ear plugs in?’
I didn’t say anything.
‘You’re seriously worried about her?’
‘Well. Given I can’t find her anywhere – yes.’
John looked at the carpet and sighed. ‘Look. It’s late and I want to go to sleep. She’s here somewhere. Trust me. She’s fine. Go to bed. If we can’t find her in the morning, we’ll …’
‘What? We’ll what?’
‘I don’t know. Tell someone. Get them to do a proper search.’
‘What if she’s fallen down some steps and is lying hurt somewhere?’
‘Someone will have seen her. It’s not like this is a ghost ship. There are three thousand people on board. Even if she fell somewhere down below, the crew will have seen her. Did you check the sanatorium?’
‘No.’ I’d forgotten that – it was on Deck 1.
‘Maybe she’s there, and they just didn’t know to tell us. Check it in the morning. Now, if you don’t mind …’
‘Night.’
I opened my door slowly, then sat on the bed, rifling through the paperwork until I found a number for the sanatorium. I dialled it and waited but there was no reply. Kicking off my shoes, I lay back on the bed and dialled again.
17 July 2013, 8 a.m.
I woke the next morning with a dry mouth, a stiff neck, and the phone still in my hand. I was still fully dressed, on top of the covers. As consciousness slowly returned, I remembered my search of the ship last night, and how I must have fallen asleep waiting for the sanatorium to pick up. But with daylight came logic; with a growing sense of embarrassment I went over how I’d woken John up to tell him I couldn’t find Mum. What must he have thought? Of course he was right. Mum would be fine. What an idiot I’d been running all over the ship on my own looking for her in every bar, casino, lounge, and restaurant. It was probably just as well I hadn’t got through to the sanatorium.
Still, I’d like to speak to Mum, to put my mind at rest. I picked up the phone handset and peered at the screen through eyes that were sticky with grit. The display was blank so I jabbed a button or two and it failed to spring to life: out of battery. I stretched across to the bedside table and replaced it in the cradle with a bleep, and caught sight of the clock as I did so: 8:00. We would already be docked for the morning in Katakolon, Greece. Now that posed a problem: Mum had said previously that there was a winery she was keen to visit on the outskirts of Katakolon. I’d suggested that we’d take a taxi up there together but, if she’d been trying to ring me she wouldn’t have got through because the phone was dead. Would she have gone alone?
‘For God’s sake!’ I muttered out loud. I pulled myself into a sitting position on the bed. ‘This is ridiculous!’ I shouted at the room, louder this time. ‘It’s like chasing a shadow!’
My anger spurred me into action and, shedding yesterday’s clothes, I showered, made my face look presentable, and dressed in fresh clothes. I put my door on the latch and knocked on John’s door and waited. Nothing. I leaned my forehead against the door, consumed by a sudden paranoia that Mum and John were deliberately hiding from me – playing some kind of game. I imagined them both sitting at breakfast, laughing. Breakfast. Of course!
I grabbed my key and hot-footed it down the corridors, charged up the stairs two at a time, and banged on Mum’s door. There was no reply, but the message I’d left tucked behind her room door had gone.
‘Yes!’ I punched the air, then, with a big smile on my face, I headed quickly back towards the restaurant. Grabbing a squeeze of the regulation hand sanitizer without breaking pace, I marched into Ocean Breeze and walked around the restaurant, eyes swinging left and right as I examined every table.
‘Have you seen my mother?’ I asked a waitress whose face I recognised. She often brought us drinks.
‘Morning, ma’am,’ she sang with a cheerful smile.
‘Have you seen my mother? Today?’
The waitress edged over to a counter and balanced the edge of her tray on it. She’d been clearing tables and it was piled high with dirty crockery and uneaten scraps of food. ‘Let me see,’ she said rolling her eyes upwards. ‘I think so … she is small? Brown hair?’
‘No. Quite tall. Grey hair. A bit stooped. Walks like this.’ I did a few steps’ impression of Mum, realising as I did so how ridiculous I looked.
She nodded. ‘Ah. I remember her.’
‘Have you seen her this morning?’
‘Umm … I’m not sure.’ She shook her head. ‘No, I don’t think so.’
‘All right, thank you,’ I said.
‘But my shift only started eight thirty,’ said the waitress. ‘Maybe she came early? Lots of people come early, go to Katakolon before the crowds.’
‘Okay, thank you,’ I said. What the waitress said was true. Mum was an early bird. She could easily have finished breakfast before eight thirty.
‘Anything else I ca
n help you with?’ asked the waitress, picking up the full weight of her tray again.
I shook my head. ‘No. Thank you.’
‘Have a great day!’
It was a short walk from the ship into Katakolon port; no need for shuttle buses. From Ocean Breeze, where I’d had a coffee, I’d seen a beautiful bay curving away as far as I could see. Close to town, people were splashing in the water. Squinting, I could just about make out horses pulling shady carts trotting around the curve of the shore. I wasn’t keen to go ashore but, as I watched the scene on land, I convinced myself that, just minutes after disembarking, I was bound to find John and Mum sitting in a waterfront café, enjoying a coffee and a pastry, watching the world go by and wondering what on earth I’d been so panicked about. I ran the conversation through my head:
‘At last! Here you are! Where have you been hiding?’ I’d exclaim, weak with relief.
‘What do you mean?’ Mum would ask. She’d be looking particularly well, I decided, thanks to all the spa treatments and exercise classes that had kept her out of sight the last two days. ‘I haven’t been anywhere! Where have you been? You’re never in when I call!’
We’d both laugh and I’d flop onto a chair at the table and order a welcome drink. John would tell Mum about my mad search of the ship and they’d both shake their heads and tut.
‘What are we going to do with you?’ Mum would ask, patting my hand. ‘Sometimes I think you’re more senile than I am.’
I smiled to myself at the thought of her safe and sound. After I’d finished breakfast, I went back to my cabin via Mum’s. Still no reply and her butler was nowhere to be seen so, convinced she must already have got off the ship, I headed back to my room, got myself ready, and disembarked. As I walked through the port, the hot sun beating down on me, I almost believed that I was a few minutes away from finding both Mum and John. I practically skipped.
The Disappearance Page 20