Saturday Morning, September 11, 1937
The North Atlantic
I slept well Friday night, lulled to sleep by the motion of the ship slipping through the ocean, and I awoke refreshed. After a shave, I dressed in my new gray windowpane suit with a light blue tie I’d bought just for the trip, and knocked on the connecting door just after nine.
“Good morning,” I said as Verbina opened the door. “Ready for breakfast? Some goo and the moo?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Pancakes, syrup, and milk, of course,” I replied with a smile.
She frowned. “College slang again. I’ve told you, Heath, a gentleman must speak properly.”
I sighed. “Sorry, I know. Old habits. I’ll try to keep it to a minimum.”
“Better to stop it altogether. You’re a college graduate now, and an adult.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t forget. You’re judged by how you speak, how you dress, the company you keep, and how you behave.”
“I’ll try to do better. I will do better.”
“Good. You slept in this morning. I’ve been up since seven.”
“You have?”
“I had things to do. I’ve just been to see the deck steward, the chief steward, and the purser and found out Simon Quimby is staying on A deck and usually promenades on the sun deck just after breakfast, counterclockwise. He has breakfast delivered to his cabin at eight o’clock, and almost always has the same thing, fried eggs, sausages, tomatoes, mushrooms, bread, and a slice of black pudding, with tea and buttered toast. He’s a frequent passenger, and his routine is well known, a creature of habit, as they say.”
“He sounds dull. But honestly, Auntie, you do amaze me sometimes. How did you find all that out?”
“I have my ways, Heath. Charm and a little money usually does the trick. Now, we’ve already missed this morning, so tomorrow we will need to be out on deck looking our best right after breakfast. That means we must be in the dining room no later than seven thirty.”
“Goodness, that’s early for me. You go ahead. I’ll order breakfast in and do some reading, and maybe write some postcards to Mom and Dad and Cousin Liz and her folks.”
“No, no, no. You must come with me. A united front, you see. Besides, you can be charming when you want to be.”
“Gee, thanks, but I certainly don’t feel like being charming to someone I’ve never met just to get him to invite us to his house for the weekend, when I’d rather stay in London anyway.”
“Tut, tut, my boy. You’ll smile and be polite and attentive, and that’s that. It wouldn’t hurt you to learn a few things about manners from a proper English gentleman. You’ve gotten a bit cheeky lately, and as I said before, you could clearly use some tutelage.”
“I thought this was supposed to be a vacation,” I said, rolling my eyes toward the ceiling and then back down again.
“It is, my dear. A holiday, as they say on the Continent, but one must never stop learning and expanding oneself, either. Tomorrow morning, knock on my door at seven fifteen sharp, dressed and ready, understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, knowing it would do no good to argue.
“Good, now let me get my handbag and we can go down to breakfast. Did you look over today’s daily bulletin?”
“Uh, no, I didn’t see it.”
“The steward should have slid it under your door. You probably just didn’t notice. Regardless, there’s shuffleboard and ping-pong this morning followed by hot bouillon and crackers at eleven. That should take us to lunch, then perhaps we can find Myrtle and a fourth for bridge, or maybe the two of us can play backgammon until it’s time for tea. And if you like, we can sit on deck for a bit, reading, and watching the people stroll by. I took the opportunity earlier to reserve two deck chairs for us, on the port side.”
“You have to reserve them?”
“Of course. If you don’t, who knows whom you may end up sitting next to, or where. As it is, all the decent ones on the promenade were spoken for already, so we’re on the sundeck. The stewards put your name on a card and slide it into a plate affixed to each chair to mark its exclusivity.”
“I never would have thought of reserving a deck chair. I thought you just took any old one.”
“That’s why you still have a great deal to learn, my boy. Now then, once settled into our chairs, the deck steward will provide us with steamer rugs, hand warmers, and hot bouillon and tea, if we so desire.”
“Hand warmers and steamer rugs?”
“Oh, yes. Very necessary this time of year. This is the north Atlantic in September, and it gets quite chilly on deck, even on the covered promenade, and there’s always a stiff breeze on the sun deck. The steward will also provide reading materials if requested, but I’ve brought my book.”
“I have my book, too. I’m reading one of Oscar Wilde’s novels.”
“Interesting choice.”
“I find his life fascinating.”
“He was an interesting man, I must admit. By the way, I also brought along Mothersill’s seasick pills, should you need them.”
“I’ve been fine so far.”
“Yes, you seem to be a good sailor, but the sea has been relatively calm up until now. It will get rougher, trust me.”
“Okay, I’ll let you know if I get queasy.”
“Please do. Anyway, as I was saying, all that will take us to teatime. Perhaps after that, we will have an opportunity for a nap before we must dress for dinner.”
“That sounds, uh, nice and relaxing,” I said, though I wanted to say boring.
“Of course it does. We must also find time to visit the library to write some postcards and letters.”
“Yes, I do need to write that thank-you to Mom and Dad for the bon voyage basket, and tell them how things have been going so far.”
“Certainly, and I shall do the same, from my perspective, naturally. Oh, I almost forgot. There’s an afternoon movie in the lounge—Jezebel with Bette Davis, I know how much you like her.”
“I do. She’s aces for sure, snazzy. The snake’s hips.”
Verbina scowled at me.
“Very good, I mean. A fine actress. I was only teasing, truly.”
“Teasing, indeed. Dinner tonight is formal, don’t forget.”
“I won’t. The steward returned my tuxedo freshly pressed this morning, and they got the coffee stain out of my suit coat, too.”
“Good, and make sure to have your shoes shined. Dinner’s at eight, as usual, followed by some dancing, or cutting a rug, as I believe I’ve heard you call it.”
I laughed. “That’s perfect, Auntie.”
She smiled then. “Well, they do have the most wonderful orchestra on board, for dancing or rug cutting.”
Her turn of a phrase made me grin. “I’ll do my best not to step on your toes.”
“Please do. I told your mother you’d benefit by some extra dancing lessons, but we’ll make the best of it.”
And that we did. By the time we finally returned to our cabins close to midnight, having danced waltzes, two-steps, and even a foxtrot, we were both exhausted but content, and we both slept well once again, the day not having been quite so dull as I’d imagined it might have been.