Regan and Jack’s stateroom was at the opposite end of the passageway from Luke and Nora’s. It was a deck below where Alvirah and Willy would be staying.
The six of them had checked out both of the Reilly rooms, found them satisfactory, and went up to Eric’s former quarters together. They were all dying of curiosity. The room was in a separate section of the ship, down the passageway from the Commodore’s suite, not an area where passengers would normally stay.
The door to the room was open.
“Hello,” Alvirah called as she reached the doorway.
A straight-backed, balding man in a dark steward’s uniform was running a cloth over a night table. “Good afternoon, Madame,” he replied with a slight bow. “Are you Mrs. Meehan?”
“Yes, I am.”
“My name is Winston. I will be your butler on this voyage. It will be my pleasure to ensure your absolute comfort. I am prepared to serve you everything from breakfast in your suite to a hot chocolate at bedtime. May I add my apologies for your inconvenience because of a reservation mishap?”
“No problem,” Alvirah said heartily as she walked inside and looked around admiringly. “You guys have nice rooms,” she told the Reillys, “but this one really takes the cake.”
“It’s terrific,” Regan agreed. She had not missed the expression on Eric Manchester’s face when he was told he had to give up the room. I can see why he wouldn’t be happy, she thought. But it was more than that. He seemed agitated.
The closet door was open. Nora glanced into it. “The closet is practically a room unto itself,” she commented.
“With all Alvirah’s luggage, she needs whatever space she can get,” Willy said. “Oh, here are the bags now.”
An out-of-breath porter had arrived at the door.
“We’ll clear out and give you a chance to get settled,” Luke said. “Remember, there’s a lifeboat drill at five o’clock.”
Winston gave a quick last-minute inspection of the room, then shook his head. “How did I miss these?” he said under his breath as he leaned over and picked up several squashed potato chips from the floor by the couch. “I thought Eric was such a health nut . . .” As he straightened up, he said, “I think everything is shipshape for you now. Anything else you need, just pick up the phone please.” He looked at the Reillys and sniffed. “Shall we leave the Meehans to unpack in peace?” His voice was at its most plummy and British, like a maritime Jeeves.
“We shall,” Jack said dryly. He calls himself a butler, he thought. Give me a break. We don’t need to be told it’s time to go.
“Here’s your hat, what’s your hurry?” Luke mumbled.
“We’ll meet you downstairs after the lifeboat drill,” Alvirah said quickly, attempting to smooth over Winston’s arrogance. “Isn’t it wonderful that we’re on our way?”
As the others followed Winston out the door, the porter struggled to hoist Alvirah’s suitcases on top of the bed. Willy’s garment bag was a marvel of efficiency. Except for one other smaller bag, everything he needed was in it. Alvirah opened the drawer of the night table next to her side of the bed and placed calcium pills in it. She had heard they were better absorbed if you took them at night. A deck of playing cards was inside the drawer.
“Ohhhh. Look at these, Willy. Remember how we used to like playing cards? We’ve gotten away from it these last few years.”
“That’s because you’re too busy solving crimes,” Willy commented.
The cards were held together with a rubber band. Alvirah picked them up.
Willy glanced at them. “I’ll ask that guy Eric if they’re his. Bad enough we took his room.”
He stuffed them in his pocket. “If they make us sit too long at that lifeboat drill, we can always play Hearts.”