Monday Morning, September 13, 1937
The Mid-Atlantic
The ship’s horns, melancholy, deep, and resonate, woke me from a fitful, dreamless sleep. I opened my eyes slowly, unwillingly, and looked about my cabin. Nothing had really changed, yet so much had changed. I got up feeling anxious, sad, and tired, the horns continually and regularly sounding their mournful cry. The seas had calmed, and the ship wasn’t rolling and pitching nearly as much as it had the night before. A glance out the porthole told me we were now in fog, which was the reason for the horns, of course.
Being in fog would force the captain to slow down, which meant we wouldn’t be breaking any speed records this crossing, but I didn’t mind. I was in no hurry to reach Southampton and say goodbye to Simon, even if I would be seeing him again at his home a few days later. The thought of that both excited and saddened me. I brushed my teeth and put on my black suit with a dark green tie, for it seemed fitting to my mood, and knocked on the connecting door at fifteen minutes to eight.
“Good morning, Heath,” she said. She was still in her dressing gown and slippers.
“Good morning.”
“I’m afraid I’m running a tad late, but I’m almost ready. I’ve done my hair, makeup and nails, so I just have to get dressed. Did you sleep well? I think you were out rather late also.”
“I got in a little after one, I believe. We had a nice time.”
“Oh good, I’m so glad. I wish I could say the same. Myrtle finally landed that Frenchman she was interested in, and the two of them danced all evening. I felt like the proverbial third wheel. I left them clutched in a tango about midnight and came to bed. I tossed and turned all night.”
“I’m sorry to hear it, Auntie, truly.”
“It’s fine, I still had a nice enough time. Watching the two of them try to dance while the floor was heaving up and down and from side to side was quite comical. Most couples gave up, but they soldiered on, oblivious to everyone else, it seemed.”
“Mrs. Obermeyer is nothing if not persistent,” I said.
“She certainly is that. How about you? Meet any lovely young girls in the Starlight Club?”
“Hmm? Oh yes, sure,” I lied. “But as you said, dancing was challenging, so we mostly just sat and chatted.”
“Nothing wrong with that, my dear. I bet you were the handsomest man there.”
“You flatter me, Auntie, but you forget Simon Quimby was also present.”
“Simon is nice looking, isn’t he?” She gave me a look, one eyebrow raised.
I felt my face redden. “He’s okay, I guess. I just meant the girls seem to like him more than me.”
“I see. Well, don’t sell yourself short, Heath. You’re handsome, smart, and charming, and any girl would be lucky to have you. It pays the devil to be jealous of Simon.”
“Thanks,” I said, “but I’m not jealous of him, just making an observation.” I wished right then and there that I could tell her what had really happened last night. How I had lost my virginity to him, how I felt like I was falling for him. How we made love, and when it was all over how he practically pushed me away, telling me he was thinking of getting married. But instead I had to dance around the truth, tell lies, and make excuses. Such was my life. “He’s very popular with the ladies.”
“I’m sure he is, and I’m sure he’s well known in the Starlight Club. Oh, by the way, speaking of the Starlight Club, don’t forget to make reservations for us in the Verandah Grill for dinner this evening.”
“Right, thanks for the reminder. Shall I say eight o’clock?”
“That will do, but if they don’t have anything open at eight, I can do seven or whatever they have. Even dining at nine would be preferable to sitting through another meal with those people.”
I smiled in spite of my mood. “Okay. Why don’t I take care of that now, and you can get dressed and go on to breakfast. I’m not all that hungry, but I’ll meet you in the dining room shortly.”
“Not hungry? I never thought I’d hear you say those words.” She looked me up and down. “And you’re not as chipper as you usually are. Are you feeling well?” Her hand went to my forehead.
“Sure, I’m fine. Just a little tired is all. Maybe a little queasy from last night, too. All that motion.”
“You don’t feel warm. Probably all those cocktails, no doubt. Some good black coffee and a hearty breakfast will do you good. Go make the reservations, and I’ll see you in the dining room. I’ll wait at the entrance for you. Oh, and why don’t you ask Simon if he’d like to join us for dinner later?”
“Gee, I could, I suppose.”
“Certainly you could, and you should. Ring him up before you go, dear, and tell him I said hello, too.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh, I almost forgot. Myrtle and her French friend want you and me to play bridge with them after breakfast. I told them I’d ask you.”
I made a face. “Bridge? With those two? I was hoping to do something with Simon today, maybe go swimming again.”
“We won’t be playing cards all day, only for a few hours. There will be plenty of time for swimming later if that’s what you want, but we mustn’t be rude to Mrs. Obermeyer and her friend.”
I heaved my shoulders. “All right. I’ll give Simon a call and then see about the reservations. I’ll meet you in the dining room.”
“Don’t forget to say hello for me, and don’t dawdle.”
“Right,” I said. “I won’t.” I returned to my cabin, made sure the connecting door was securely shut, and then picked up the phone on the desk, asking to be connected to Lord Quimby’s stateroom. After a moment, I heard a click, and then his unmistakable voice, deep and resonant.
“Hello?”
“Oh, hello, good morning. I hope I didn’t wake you. This is Heath.”
“Yes, good morning. No, I’ve been up for some time. My breakfast was just delivered. Fried eggs, sausages, tomatoes, mushrooms, bread, and a slice of black pudding, with tea and buttered toast.”
“Sounds delicious.”
“I like it. Did you sleep well?”
“Not really. It was rather fitful. And then when the fog horns started—”
“Yes, that is rather annoying, even worse on deck, so I think I’ll skip my morning constitutional today and stay indoors instead.”
“Would you like some company? I promised Verbina I’d play bridge with her and Mrs. Obermeyer and a friend after breakfast, but I could make an excuse of some sort. She says hello, by the way.”
“Tell her hello back.”
“I will. So, are you up for a visit?”
“I’d hate for you to disappoint your aunt, Heath. Besides, I need to catch up on my reading and some of my correspondence.”
“What about later, then? We could go swimming or something.”
“I’ve already packed my bathing suit, and I don’t wish to get it wet again. I’m afraid I really do have a lot of paperwork and whatnot to muddle through. Sorry, old boy.”
I felt like I was being put off, but Mrs. Obermeyer wasn’t the only persistent one. “Well, you have to eat dinner. Verbina wanted to know if you’d like to join us in the Verandah Grill. I’m going to make a reservation.”
“I remember. Don’t forget to use my name with Oliver if he tries to tell you he’s full up for tonight. I would enjoy dining with you and your aunt, and I very much appreciate the invitation, but I’m afraid I have other plans.”
I swallowed, envisioning all kinds of things. “That family friend you had tea with yesterday?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact. Mrs. Wessel. She knew my mother, and she’s traveling alone, so I offered to dine with her, and she was gracious enough to accept.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m glad it’s not a male friend.”
“Heath, these phone lines aren’t private, and my breakfast is getting cold, so I really must go.”
“But I want to see you before we get off tomorrow.”
“All right, why don’t we meet in the smoking room again then, after dinner? Once you’ve made your reservation, let me know what time it is for, and we can arrange to meet roughly an hour or so after that. Sound good?”
“Okay, I’d like that. I’ll see you tonight, then.”
“Yes, goodbye.”
I heard him disconnect and my heart sank a bit more. He had been friendly but not too friendly. Almost like we were just chums. Was that what he felt, or was he just being cautious? I hung up the phone, left my cabin, and went to the Verandah Grill, which was bustling with passengers who preferred the less formal atmosphere for their morning coffee. I made arrangements for a table for two for dinner that evening, at eight forty-five, the best they could do, and I didn’t even have to use Simon’s name. That done, I wrote down the information on a piece of paper, folded it, and gave it to a bellboy to deliver to Simon’s cabin. It was coming ten before I finally made it to the dining room. I found Verbina waiting for me at the entrance as promised, somewhat impatiently. She was dressed in a tailored light green skirt with a matching jacket, red blouse, and a small white hat with a red band.
“What took you so long?” she said, looking briefly at her watch.
“Sorry, I phoned Simon first but he has other plans for this evening. He said to say hello back, by the way. Then I had to wait in the Grill until they could attend to me, but I was able to get us a table at a quarter to nine this evening.”
“Goodness, I shall be famished by then, but at least we have a reservation. Speaking of being famished, let’s eat, it’s quite late in the day already.” We found a smallish table for two off to the side, and I waited as the maître d’ sat Verbina, and then I took my place across from her. I ordered the oatmeal with a side of toast and eggs, black coffee, and orange juice, and found I was hungrier than I thought I was, as I ate it all. Verbina had coffee, toast, blackberry jam, and two eggs over medium.
“Feel better?” she said, as the waiter cleared our plates.
“Yes, somewhat. What are the plans for today? Are we still playing bridge?”
“Yes, most definitely. Myrtle and her French friend discussed it with me last night. She wants us to get to know him.”
“Why?”
“That’s just Myrtle. She seems rather smitten. I thought we’d play in the Long Gallery. it’s rather quiet there most of the time.”
“All right. I’m not very good at bridge, but I guess I could give it a whirl, if you like.”
“I do like. Bridge is a good game to know in the social circles, and just what you need to take your mind off whatever or whoever it is you’re dwelling on.”
“What makes you think I’m dwelling on anything?”
“Or anyone,” she said. “Call it my intuition.”
“Fair enough, but you’re wrong, I’m just tired. When do we play?”
“I told them we’d meet them at eleven, so we have just enough time to use the ladies’ and gentlemen’s lounges, then stroll the promenade deck to the Long Gallery and find a table. You and I will be partners against the two of them.”
The Long Gallery was located on the port side of the ship, with lots of windows overlooking the sheltered promenade and the sea beyond, which was still covered mostly in just gray, dull fog drifting by. The inside of the gallery, however, was warm and cozy, with charming area rugs covering the Korkoid floor, small tables and chairs in groups by the window, and columned torchiers giving off a soft amber glow.
Mrs. Obermeyer and her newfound friend were already there, and she introduced him to us as Monsieur Antoine Chevrolet. He spoke with a decidedly French accent and kissed the back of Auntie’s hand the way they do in the movies. We took our seats, and then we cut for deal. Monsieur Chevrolet had high card, so he dealt. As he did so, I studied him. He seemed not young but not old, not attractive but not ugly, and he could possibly have been wealthy, but I wasn’t sure and frankly didn’t care. He had a thin, dark mustache curled at the ends and wore spectacles perched on his long, narrow nose that gave him an almost comical look.
We played the first hand well enough, Verbina keeping score. We were ahead, though Myrtle and Antoine didn’t seem to mind or even barely notice. In fact, they were paying little attention to the game at all, so it was fairly easy for Verbina and I to keep our lead. Still, I was envious of Mrs. Obermeyer and Antoine, as they flirted with each other openly across the bridge table and called each other sickening pet names like mon tresor and mon chou, along with Cuddles and Sugar Lips. Frankly it turned my stomach more than the rolling and pitching of the ship had the night before. They didn’t have to hide their feelings, their emotions, or their true selves. They didn’t have to pretend and lie. It was therefore with some satisfaction that Verbina and I won both of the two games we played.
“Well, Myrtle, that makes sixty-three cents you two owe us. Fancy another game?” Verbina said, shuffling the cards expertly.
“Dear me, no, you two are much too good. We’ll just settle up, shall we?”
“No checks, please,” Auntie said, setting the deck aside.
“Oh, Verbina, you’re such a kidder.” Mrs. Obermeyer put her hand on Antoine’s across the table. “Cuddles, do you have sixty-three cents for my dear old friend here?”
“Of course.” He looked at Auntie. “A Frenchman who does not pay his debts is a man without honor, madame.” He extracted a franc from a leather purse and handed it to Verbina. “And a man without honor is not a man. You may keep the change.”
“Merci,” Auntie said.
“Goodness, I can’t believe we lost both games. I’m afraid I lost in the ship’s pool last night, too,” Mrs. Obermeyer said.
“The ship’s pool?” I said. “I was swimming there yesterday. It’s lovely.”
She tittered and giggled like a schoolgirl. “Oh, dear, not that pool, the ship’s pool.”
“What do you mean?” I said.
“Honestly, Myrtle,” Verbina said. “Don’t confuse the boy.” She turned to me. “She means people wager money on how many miles the ship will go in one twenty-four-hour period. The smoking room steward announces the winner each day during cocktail hour. The currency is always pounds eastbound, dollars westbound. They call it the ship’s pool. People have been known to win several hundred dollars, but personally I don’t partake in it.”
“Well, I do,” Mrs. Obermeyer said. “But I’m afraid this crossing just hasn’t been lucky for me, at least not monetarily speaking.” She smiled at Antoine and giggled again.
“What do you Americans say? Unlucky at cards, lucky at love?” Antoine said, smiling back at Mrs. Obermeyer, his thin mustache twitching.
“Yes, that’s how the saying goes,” Verbina said. “Would you two like to join us for lunch?”
“You are très kind, Mrs. Partridge, but I have made reservations for Myrtle and me in the à la carte restaurant for both lunch and dinner this evening, followed by a night of dancing under the stars.”
“There won’t be any stars tonight. The fog is supposed to last until morning,” I said happily.
“Then we shall make our own stars and our own moonlight, right, mon chou?” Antoine said, gazing at Mrs. Obermeyer like a love-starved puppy with worms.
Myrtle giggled and snorted. “That’s right. Tomorrow we both get off in Cherbourg, and then we’re going on together to Paris.”
“What about your cousin in Marseille?” Verbina said.
“I’ll take the train down to see her and her husband for a couple of days, but then Antoine has invited me to his villa in Nice. That’s near Cannes, you know.”
“That seems rather sudden,” Verbina said.
“Oui, perhaps, but again as you Americans say, one must make hay while the sun is up, yes?”
“While the sun shines, my love bug, and yes, I agree. Now that I’m over thirty, there’s no time to waste on silly formalities,” Mrs. Obermeyer said.
“Now that you’re over thirty?” Verbina said, raising her brows.
“That’s right,” Mrs. Obermeyer said, giving Verbina a scathing look.
“Well, technically that’s true, I suppose,” Verbina said, turning to Antoine. “You live in a villa?”
“Just my family home, madame. A small villa on the coast, quite empty since my wife died three years ago,” Antoine said, and then he gazed at Mrs. Obermeyer. “It is very beautiful there, but it will still be outshone by you, mon tresor.”
I made a small gagging sound and stuck out my tongue almost unconsciously, but instantly regretted it as all three of them looked at me in surprise.
“Heath,” Verbina said, “where are your manners?”
“I apologize. I swallowed wrong.”
“Indeed. Well, perhaps we should get you some water. Heath and I will be heading to the dining room, then. Thank you for playing,” Auntie said.
“My pleasure, our pleasure, madame, monsieur. I hope to see you before Cherbourg, but if not, I’m sure we shall meet again at some point. It’s a small world.”
“Very true, Monsieur Chevrolet. By the way, your surname is so interesting. Are you at all involved in the motor cars?”
His laugh was annoying. “I am asked that frequently. But no, the name actually means goat farmer in French.”
“Goat farmer?” Myrtle looked aghast. “I thought you said you own a winery.”
“Oui, my dear, that’s true. My family owns a vineyard, several actually, not goats. I’m afraid I know little of automobiles, or goats for that matter, but a great deal about grapes.”
“Thank heavens,” Myrtle said, looking relieved. “Grapes make wine, you know.”
“Yes, they do, and wine makes money, I imagine,” Verbina said.
“Oui, Mrs. Partridge, our vineyards have been doing well in spite of the Depression, or perhaps because of it. People still drink. Your silly Prohibition a few years ago put a dent in the export market, but the American tourists traveling overseas more than made up for it.”
“How interesting,” Verbina said.
“Isn’t it, though? He’s such a treasure,” Mrs. Obermeyer said with a dreamy sigh.
“Treasure is just the right word,” Verbina said. “Myrtle, dear, we’ll see you off tomorrow and wave to you on the tender. You must promise to write and tell us all about your experiences in France.”
“I most certainly will, when I have time. I suspect we’ll be very busy, though, won’t we, sugar lips?” she said, reaching across the table again for his hand and giggling all over again.
“Oui, mon chou. Feeding each other very tender, sweet, plump grapes.”
I resisted the urge to gag again or roll my eyes. I think I would have preferred it if he was a goat farmer. Auntie and I both stood, followed by Antoine and Myrtle, who moved next to each other, gazing longingly into each other’s eyes and holding hands.
I don’t think they even noticed when we had walked away.
“I suppose that was rather rude,” Verbina said, as we descended the stairs to C deck. “We didn’t even say a formal goodbye.”
“I don’t think they cared. At least Antoine has taken Mrs. Obermeyer’s attention off me.”
“That is something to be thankful for, I suppose. But honestly, feeding each other grapes.”
“I know, tender, sweet, plump grapes. I almost lost my appetite for lunch.”
“And you sticking out your tongue and making that gagging sound. It was most embarrassing.”
“I’m sorry, Auntie. It was a foolish impulse.”
She stopped and looked at me, a twinkle in her eyes. “But a funny one. Let’s eat.”