C H A P T E R   E L E V E N

The RMS Aorangi breasted the great Pacific swells with ease: a gentle roll was all the passengers felt, except infrequently when they struck rough weather. Eric soon developed a healthy routine that involved, after digesting his breakfast, striding around the deck for a brisk “morning constitutional” as a tour of the decks was known. And before long, the long-legged young Sharon joined him.

“I just hope I’m not too brisk for you?”

“Oh no, I love hiking. I’m very athletic!” She smiled. Such lovely teeth, he noticed. Wealthy upbringing, lots of good food and, he suspected, strict parents: brush your teeth! Not like at home; their one dentist had only recently arrived.

“Tennis, swimming, sports, I love them. I ride a horse of my own in Toronto. I’m very active.”

And so over the next while, Eric got to know Sharon pretty well, and her plans. She was not afraid to chatter about herself, certainly. “Freddie and I, we’re getting married in the autumn, one of those big weddings, but it might be fun. I’m looking forward to Honolulu, though. We’re going to treat it as a kind of a secret pre-honeymoon.” They kept passing older rug-wrapped couples stretched on wooden arm chairs, staring out at the heaving horizon, hardly talking, some reading. “For the real honeymoon, we’re going around Europe, and then poor Freddie, he’ll have to settle down in his father’s firm.”

“Which is?” Eric asked.

“Oh, you probably haven’t heard of it. It’s in the brokerage business, and they’re making nothing but money these days.” She laughed gaily. “I like being taken care of in style.” She waved and smiled at an older man who made as if to join them, but gave it up as they sped by. “It’ll be jolly, with lots of parties, of course. But then, I will belong to Freddie completely.”

“Don’t you belong to him now?”

Sharon looked sideways at him without speaking. After a time, she said, “A little dalliance never hurt anyone, before having to give it all up and become a wife forever...” She looked sideways at Eric again.

After striding around the deck for an hour or so, they retired to the bar for coffee and Lamingtons, little Aussie sponge cakes dipped in chocolate and covered in cocoanut. Eric enjoyed her companionship, although he wondered at the hints she kept dropping. And the more he got to know Sharon Black, the more he liked her. Where would all this lead? It did seem as if she were throwing herself at him. Oh dear, hard to resist.

“And what is Freddie doing in Honolulu?” They were sitting at one side, having sampled the pastry table. One did nothing but eat on this voyage.

“Well, it’s Freddie’s last big holiday before settling down,” Sharon told him. “He’s taken up some silly pursuit called surfing. I have no idea what they do, but in his one letter, he seems caught up in it.”

“I wonder if he uses a long board, or the short one?” Eric gave a sly chuckle. Her reaction came as he expected — she whirled: “What do you know about surfing?”

Eric shrugged, pleased. “Oh, nothing much.”

“Well, if he enjoys it, so much the better. I have some new bathing suits, and I’m going to sit out on the sand and watch. He really likes to see my body. At night, he tells me, there’s a great bunch of friends who turned up from Toronto for their holidays, and it should be fun. But then, of course, I’ll be his alone.” She looked at him again.

“Lucky him,” Eric found himself saying, and then almost as quickly regretted it, for he knew she would take it as a kind of invitation. Which in a sense, it was. No doubt about it, she was a striking young lady. Later, when the ship held its formal dance on the weekend, he found himself with her again, doing his best to join in the latest shuffle.

“You know, Eric you’re a very remarkable man,” she began after a while. “Freddie is much younger. You, being a veteran, I mean, you’re not old, but there is something... Well, a strength, as if you’d seen it all.”

Eric had to admit, “I have seen a lot, probably.”

“Not many men are as handsome as you, Eric. You don’t mind my saying that?” Eric shook his head. Who would mind those words from lips as perfect as hers? “At the same time, you’re so true to yourself. You have the manners of a prince, and the honesty of a farm boy. Intriguing combination.”

Eric was no longer taken aback by her candour, but concentrated on doing the steps required on the dance floor.

Sharon noticed his difficulties and they soon retired to a side table. But then, being as pretty as she was, Sharon got one invitation to dance after another, some young and good-looking but married, others older but still obviously attracted. Eric watched them on the dance floor; he left a lot to be desired so far as dancing went.

After sticking it out for a while, Eric was about to give up. So Sharon turned down the next offer to dance to have a nightcap with him. After taking a good slug herself, she ventured, openly, “You know, Eric, I have a two-berth cabin. And the second is empty.”

“Really? I thought the ship was nearly full.”

She paused. “Well, it was.” She glanced at him. “I think Daddy didn’t want me bothered by anyone else, so he bought the other bunk.” She sipped her drink and mentioned casually, “You might find it more comfortable there.”

Eric shifted in his seat. She went on quickly, “I have a window, well, a porthole, and we can see out. It’s so lovely in the morning with the sun coming in. We’re on the south side of the ship, Daddy saw to that. Wouldn’t you be more comfortable than with all those other people in your cramped inside cabin?” She went on quickly, “And you’re welcome to it.”

Rather a challenging turn of events! What could Eric say, but, “Well, Sharon, that’s thoughtful of you; thank you very much. I will certainly consider it.”

Her face fell. “That wasn’t quite the reaction I was expecting.” A slight frown furrowed her delicately arched eyebrows.

Eric knew she usually got everything she wanted. But this time, more of a challenge? “I’m sorry. I guess I’m not too polished.”

“Don’t try that farm stuff on me, Eric. You must have seen a lot of life in those trenches, and also, I imagine, in those dreadful places men went to in France. And even in England. I’m sure you’re not as innocent as you appear.”

Eric shook his head. “But maybe I really am...”

As they took their leave, she leaned across and kissed him on the cheek. Lots to think about later in his cramped inside stateroom.

Eric decided to take the free dancing lessons offered to help passengers enjoy their voyage. Betty, his teacher, was plain but had a tall, spry figure, lots of dark hair, dark eyes, and a small mouth. She certainly knew her stuff and Eric, being well-coordinated, was able to pick up a few steps. The second day he even looked forward to the afternoon lesson. She had an appealing flare, though at first might have seemed a little cold, or perhaps merely withdrawn.

On the last of his three private lessons — they were dancing pretty well together now — things took a decidedly sharp turn. They had gotten to know each other and he liked Betty: she had a vulnerable side, one that seemed in need of reassurance. She had been married, but her husband had left her in a hurtful manner. She used to be a dancer on stage but now at her age was forced to make a living by teaching.

As it turned out, she was also interested in more than just that. “You know, Eric, after dinner when they all play their silly card games, you might like to come see my cabin in the crew’s quarters. We have to be careful, of course, because we’re not allowed to fraternize with passengers. But my cabin-mate is understanding, and we have an arrangement...” She paused and looked at him, to gauge his reaction. Eric pretended to be concentrating on his dance steps. “I have a good bottle of single malt Scotch,” she added, “and we could have a sip together.”

There was no doubting her intention. Eric wondered how he should handle this. It was almost too much — two women on one voyage, both apparently seeking his companionship — and for the night. Not Shigawake, certainly.

She seemed so deflated by his hesitation that Eric felt he must accede. What would be lost by going to her cabin for a drink, anyway? But then he stopped himself. Once he got there, might it not be even harder to get away?

“But if you don’t want to...” she murmured, “that’s all right too.”

Such a yearning in her voice. What was it made him pause? Eric asked himself. He certainly liked Betty and even felt affectionate after the lessons, but really, his heart wasn’t in it. He began, “You see Betty, I’m taken already.”

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than he realized he had spoken the truth. But what a ridiculous thought! He immediately chastised himself for it. Again, whatever did he have to base this crazy lie on? Some fool vision that had grown far too big in his brain?

“I completely understand, Eric.” She looked at him with trusting eyes. “If only my husband had been like that. Faithful.” She scrunched her eyes shut, though she continued dancing. “The bastard,” she muttered under her breath. And then she brightened. She looked down at Eric, for he was a good three or four inches shorter. “You’ve been doing very well, Eric. I’m really proud of you as a pupil.”

And so it turned out that when he danced with Sharon on the Saturday, Eric was able to hold his own on the dance floor. And now, Hawaii was drawing close.

Sunday night, Eric spent a particularly boring evening at a talk on aspects of Fiji, which the ship would be visiting after Honolulu — native girls, hot sun and beaches. As they were leaving Sharon came over to him. “Sounds almost as interesting as Hawaii...”

Eric nodded noncommittally.

“I watched you during the talk. I could see you were bored.”

Eric nodded again; he was tired. Then, needing something to cheer him up, he suggested a nightcap. After they found a seat and ordered drinks, Eric noticed that Sharon seemed nervous. In fact, she finished a second nightcap while he was still nursing his first, and ordered herself a third. Then she turned to him and said, “Eric, I’ve been meaning to ask: I want some advice. And it can only come from a man. Will you help?”

“Of course, Sharon, anything you want.” No hesitation there.

“Come with me.” She knocked back her drink. Eric finished his and followed as she led the way down to her companionway, which fortunately was empty. She turned in at her cabin door and Eric followed.

“Now, I want you to sit there and shut your eyes.”

Eric did as he was told. The cabin, compared to his own, was quite roomy. He sat down on the small chest on the left-hand side of the door, and Sharon knelt at the drawers under her berth. She turned to looked at him. “Eric, I told you to shut your eyes. I have a surprise.”

Eric nodded and clenched them shut. He leaned back, crossed his legs and tilted his head to the ceiling. Soon he heard rustling and the movement of clothing. After a moment he heard: “Open your eyes.”

Eric opened them, and then sat bolt upright.

There stood Sharon in a stunning white nightdress. Cut straight across, just above her full breasts, it had straight strips of embroidery looped over her shoulders to hold up the slinky material falling straight to the floor. Above the nightdress, Sharon had let her hair down, and it tumbled over her bare white shoulders. Eric was captivated — that skin just asked to be caressed.

“Eric, I want you to help me decide which one I should wear when I meet Freddie.”

Eric moistened his lips. “Sharon, I don’t think you could do any better than that. Not often I’ve seen a young lady as beautiful as you in a nightdress.”

“Not often?”

Eric smiled. “All right, not ever, if you really want to know.”

That certainly made Sharon happy. She smiled, turned round so he might see all sides and then spread her arms. “There, have you seen enough?”

Eric nodded. “Yes, quite enough.”

“Now, shut your eyes again.”

He did so and heard more sounds of clothing, the nightdress going up over her head, he presumed, for now he could visualize that, and then, another one being pulled down. In spite of himself, he could feel blood rushing to his face.

“Ready?”

“Yes,” Eric muttered hoarsely. What would he see next?

“Open your eyes.”

Eric did so, and took in the lovely Sharon, this time in a cream-coloured nightdress with a v-neck, heavily embroidered across her full bosoms. The material in this one seemed thinner. As she stepped forward towards Eric (on purpose?), the bright cabin light behind her illuminated the complete outline of her body, her long legs, her hips, and her slim waist.

“Which one do you like, Eric?” she asked, almost innocently, but with a little smile that told everything.

Eric tried to think about the dress, not what was in it.

“This embroidery, it’s from Paris, you know. Hand done. Daddy helped me choose it. I think he’s pleased I’m marrying Freddie next autumn. But in the meantime ... I am single. And I’m free.”

“It’s... it’s a hard choice,” said Eric, his pulse racing.

“So you like them both Eric?”

“Very much.”

Sharon then came forward and bent over Eric, cupped his face in her hands, and placed her lips against his. Soon, he felt her tongue caressing and entering his mouth. He gripped her two hands and held them tightly as they rose, their lips still locked. He felt her body thrust against him as her arms went round his shoulders. He slid his hands behind her back and moved them over her spine, caressing it with a firm touch. The two of them lingered, pressing against each other, and then she lifted her head and began to move her lips over his face, kissing him on his eyes and, especially, the scar that now flamed redder than ever on his cheek. Their breathing became heavy, as though they had been running.

Then she gently moved away.

She went to her berth, leaned down to switch off the bright light that illuminated and plainly outlined a full breast as she bent. The cabin was thrown into darkness. She turned on a nightlight above the opposite birth. It cast a gentle glow all around. She opened the sheets on the narrow berth.

Eric stood like a statue.

She slid onto the berth, moved back against the wall and then with painted fingernails patted the sheet.

Need she say more?

Thoughts whirled in Eric’s mind. Fond of Sharon? Of course. Desiring her, in fact? Oh yes.

But then, unaccountably, wretchedly, he saw Rene at the railway station where his troop train was leaving for a the steamer to Canada, when she had kissed him, oh so chastely, and then stood back to stare into his eyes, as she mouthed the word: Goodbye.

“Last chance,” Sharon whispered. She reached out both her arms to him.

***

The day following her rejection, Sharon gave Eric only one glance — filled with anger, pointed and sharp as an ice pick.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned! Oh yes, how true was that platitude, Eric thought. All night, having been so aroused, he’d tossed and turned in his bunk. How could he ever make it right with her? Why had he been such a damn fool as to turn away, and leave? Of course, he had no answers, which only made it worse. In the short interval before reaching Honolulu, they avoided each other assiduously.

But when they docked, he did come to the rail to watch Sharon step down the gangplank to meet her faithful Freddie, so well dressed, youthful, full of enthusiasm. He wrapped his arms around his bride to be. Eric turned away and hurried back to his cramped stateroom where he lay on his bed and closed his eyes.

The remaining three weeks of the voyage went by without any great excitement. Eric made a point of going ashore in Fiji to poke about the city of Suva, and did the same again when the ship docked at Auckland, New Zealand. But one day blurred into another. Until, finally, the SS Aorangi, with a mighty wail from its whistle, pulled in to the docks at Sydney, Australia.