Chapter Thirty-Four

Alice would never have guessed the sound of a ship slicing through water could be so loud. For nearly three days she had watched the waves hitting the gigantic hull far below. She was too high up for the sea spray to reach her, but she found the repetitive fountain of white froth oddly relaxing.

From deck seven, she had a great view. The coast of Ireland had long gone, as had her anger at Thomas. She’d been disappointed that he’d not been around to wave her off, but she supposed after the fiasco on the harbour, they were never going to part on sunny terms.

The white railings were cold but the polished wooden runner at the top was wide enough to lean on and slightly warmer where the sun had warmed the varnish. She still had much of the ship to explore but her favourite part was dressing for dinner each night.

Two children and their governesses were starting a game of quoits at the other end of the deck. ‘Clive, look at this.’ She summoned him over.

Clive had been struggling with seasickness since they’d left Ireland and frequently had to retreat at speed to his cabin. This amused Alice, considering how level the ship remained while negotiating the nautical miles. He pushed himself up with a grunt from his deckchair and took a tentative look but quickly returned and put a newspaper over his head.

Alice laughed. ‘Oh, you stay there. I’m going for a walk.’

She went towards the front of the ship, which she’d been reliably informed was called the bow, and stopped to speak with dignitaries she already recognised from the dinners. She passed tables set up with games of chess and backgammon, parasols held aloft by uniformed stewards to keep the sun’s glare off the players who sat with faces deep in thought and fingers on stems of delicate glasses full of sherry. Up the steps to the next deck, she was delighted to find the same quartet practising with whom she had flirted the previous night.

She spent some time chatting with them before going inside through double wooden doors in which were portholes of glass ensuring collisions could be avoided with someone coming the other way.

She turned left into a lounge.

Two rows of button-backed leather chesterfields divided the room, and each had a walnut coffee table placed before it – adorned with newspapers and ashtrays – ready for anyone wishing to relax. She moved through panelled corridors, beneath ornate glass lamps hanging from the ceiling, electric bulbs sending shimmers of light onto the patterned carpets. She pushed open more double doors into the dining room.

‘Good afternoon, Madam, we will be serving dinner in an hour, but can I offer you a drink from the bar?’

Alice checked a clock on the wall and decided half past five was the perfect time for an aperitif. ‘Thank you, why not?’

The waiter led her to the bar.

Divine smells from the kitchens wafted through as she sipped a cocktail. She studied a copy of the menu printed on fine guilt-edged card and her mouth started watering at the thought of oysters, a choice of consommé and poached Atlantic salmon with mousseline sauce.

She declined a second drink as she needed to get back to her cabin to change for dinner. Clive would have done so already and be waiting for her. But when she finally located the corridor with their berths, there was no answer when she knocked on Clive’s door. She guessed he must be sleeping.

She opened her own cabin door and revelled in the detail. No expense had been spared. On one side of the luxurious suite, a round table and four chairs gleamed, while on the other was a three-quarter size bed draped in velvet-fringed throws and silk pillowcases.

She re-set her hair and changed her outfit. A clever mirror at the dressing table tilted and she brought it closer to re-apply her red lipstick. The sumptuous carpet beneath her feet was far thicker than anything they had at The Admiral, and hanging on the walls were an assortment of fine landscapes.

Dinner would be served in fifteen minutes and she was surprised Clive hadn’t knocked on her door. She clipped cut-glass drop earrings to her earlobes and turned her head to catch the reflected light from an ornate lamp on the wall.

She left her cabin and knocked once more on Clive’s cabin door.

She stood back as a young steward in a snowy-white jacket walked down the corridor towards her with a pile of towels between his hands.

‘Thank you, Ma’am,’ he said, and walked on past.

After a second or two, Alice called after him, ‘Excuse me, I don’t suppose you’ve seen my manager? We’re due at dinner.’

The boy turned around. ‘Yes, sorry, I assumed you knew. He’s been taken ill and gone down to D Deck.’

‘Where’s that?’

‘It’s the hospital cabins. He was found on deck, collapsed. Dehydration, I think they said.’

‘Oh, God, how do I get there?’

‘It’s starboard side, Ma’am. Go to D and follow signs from second-class dining.’

Alice held up the silk hem of the golden dress she’d earmarked for the evening and hurried down to the central part of the ship. With help from staff and friendly passengers, she found her way and was allowed to enter the room where Clive was asleep. His usual blotchy face was the colour of ash.

‘You look terrible,’ she whispered at what looked suspiciously like a corpse.

‘Thank you.’

‘Hell. You’re awake? I thought you’d died.’

‘Again, thank you.’ He opened an eye, bloodshot from heaving ’til there’d been nothing left in his belly. ‘They say a few hours on this stuff and I’ll be as right as rain.’

A bag of clear liquid hung from a hook on the wall at the head of his bed. It was attached to him via a tube in the back of his hand.

‘So, you’ll not be joining me for dinner.’ She laughed.

‘Not tonight.’ He smiled and shooed her away.

She left Clive to sleep and improve and started her progress back to the elegant dining room. Along the corridor she was stalled for a moment while two nurses decided on the best medication for a patient. They were stooped behind open cupboard doors which obstructed the corridor.

‘This tonic should do the trick, if you’re sure it’s only exhaustion?’

‘Stressed and tired, that’s what she is.’

‘Fine. Take it, but for God’s sake, keep it hidden ’til you get there. We’re only meant to treat first and second class.’

‘That’s hardly fair. Steerage can fall ill, too.’

Alice was getting impatient and was about to interrupt them when she heard something that snatched the breath from her lungs.

‘They’ve got a doctor down there, but he won’t have access to of all this, and if she’s seven months pregnant, the poor girl will need something to give her a boost.’

‘And what’s the passenger’s name? I’ll keep a note in my diary.’

‘Emma Quinn.’