Vodka, Ginger Liqueur, Orange Juice, Lemon Juice, Sugar Syrup
That night dinner went on for hours as there were speeches and prizes to be shared out in between courses. Yesterday we’d been given a list of awards to vote for and our steward Amil had excelled himself over the last twenty-four hours trying to impress us. He’d left extra chocolates on our pillows, rose petals scattered over the beds and terrified both of us with a towel bat hanging inside the bathroom.
Apart from the award for best cabin steward, there were prizes for best bar manager, best cocktail waiter, best wine waiter, best talk, favourite dessert, prettiest cake, dog with the waggiest tail. Okay, I made the last bit up but you get the picture.
Our maître d’ was presented with a silver tray for twenty-five years service with the cruise line and then there was a long procession of crew members coming forward to be rewarded with a scroll and a handshake from the Captain. Actually it was the first time we had seen the Captain since we came on board. Perhaps he had been too busy steering the ship and pandering to the richer passengers in the suites? Anyway it was reassuring to see he was still on board and he looked as tall and capable as ever, still plastered with gold braid and shiny buttons.
Meanwhile everyone seemed in high spirits, looking forward to the dance and the late-night show that was billed as A Tribute to Space Travel. It seemed a bit weird to me, but India was busy sloshing down white wine while I was equally busy with some Barolo that Marty had bought before deciding it gave him gas.
Our steward Amil won a prize and we all cheered and whooped for him. I think he won because India and I collected all the voting cards that had been left outside the doors on our floor and put his name on all of them, but I could have been wrong.
Anyway, he was a jolly good steward and deserved to win. One morning when I’d been too tired to leave the room we’d got to chatting. He hadn’t seen his family in Sri Lanka for five months and winning this award would give him a week’s leave next time they docked there. I mean, who wouldn’t vote for that!
At last we were served with our dessert, which was a bit like a Baked Alaska – but far more sophisticated and successful than the time I had tried to make it with a slice of Arctic roll, some egg white and a blowtorch – and then the maître d’ came forward from his cubbyhole by the dining room door to announce the next round of winners.
‘And the award for the best informative talk –’
He paused for dramatic effect and, over on the far side of the dining room, there was a crash as someone dropped a tray of dishes and everyone cheered. Well, you do, don’t you?
‘Do you think it will be the Titanic one?’ Marion asked, eyes gleaming after she’d polished off Marty’s glass of wine.
‘Well, it’s not a shoe-in. The talk about great maritime disasters was good,’ Ike chimed in. ‘I voted for that one.’
‘The talk on catering was interesting,’ I suggested. ‘Do you know the ship gets through six tons of butter on a transatlantic crossing? Or was it six tons of chocolate? Anyway, thirty thousand eggs – that’s definite.’
‘You’re kidding?’ Caron said, suitably impressed.
‘I could get through six tons of chocolate given half a chance,’ Marion said proudly. ‘My physician told me my sugar levels were so high he dared me to eat pumpkin pie last Thanksgiving. He absolutely dared me.’
India grinned at me. We really had enjoyed our dinner companions and I wondered what dinners once we got home would be like. Me back to my microwave meals and India to dinner with Jerry, who, while very nice, wasn’t quite as entertaining as the four in front of us.
‘He knows what a whalephant you used to be though, doesn’t he?’ Marty said between mouthfuls of dessert.
‘I was not!’ Marion said indignantly. ‘A few extra pounds maybe. You are! You’re the one who’s a hog. Wonder what he would have said if he’d seen you with your snout in the trough over the last few days. Keeping an eye on the calories, were you? More like inhaling them, I’d say.’
‘You got it straight up, Marion,’ said Marty, reaching over and taking the last spoonful of her dessert, causing her to screech with fury and the rest of us to burst out laughing.
Meanwhile the maître d’ was waiting for the noise to die down and fixed us all with a beady eye.
‘Prize for the most appreciated and informative talk was unanimous. Spring-Clean Your Life – by the very talented and beautiful Miss Marnie Miller.’
The double doors behind him opened and Marnie entered the dining room, a vision in sleek black velvet that showed off her toned shoulders and arms and probably cost more than my entire wardrobe. She turned to the maître d’ with a modest smile, mouthing I can’t believe it while we all clapped. He presented her with a small, silver-framed picture of the ship, and she blushed prettily while he bowed over her hand.
‘Thank you all so much,’ she said, turning to address us. ‘This means the world to me. Really, I can’t believe it – you’re all so lovely, so kind.’
She went on for a while, smiling and thanking everyone as though she’d won an Oscar. I zoned out for a bit and then zoned back in again with a jolt.
‘Of course, to my dear friend Gabriel Frost, who has been such a great comfort to me in the last few days. I don’t know what I would do without his love and support. Gabe, come out here!’
Gabriel had evidently been standing just outside the door, and he came forward looking quite embarrassed. Marnie sidled up to him and ducked underneath his arm so that it rested on her shoulder. She looked up at him adoringly.
Well! I felt India’s hand reach out for mine on the table and give it a squeeze. Gabriel had his arm around her and she was snuggling in and giggling like a schoolgirl. I felt cold, sick, all kinds of feelings that I desperately wished I didn’t. I’d been trying all day to be more confident, stronger, not giving in to the yearning to speak to Gabriel. Maybe end up in his bed … I tried to stop my eyes from filling.
‘He’s very handsome,’ Marion said, looking at Gabriel dreamily. ‘Why didn’t I meet a man like that when I was out there looking? Instead I ended up with an ex-Marine who calls me a whalephant and steals my desserts.’
Marty flapped a hand at her, looking around for more leftover dessert. ‘You wouldn’t have me any different – you know you wouldn’t.’
Onstage Marnie was examining the framed photograph of the ship as though it were a missing Raphael and favouring the maître d’ with a brilliant smile.
‘So very proud and happy,’ she said, and he bowed over her hand again while darting a venomous look at the waiter who had now cleared up all the broken china and was scuttling past them at high speed.
They stood there having some official photographs taken and little by little Gabriel backed away. He looked around the dining room and of course he saw me. I held my breath, having a clever and witty conversation with him in my head that resulted in him walking away crushed and ashamed. Gabriel touched Marnie’s arm and whispered something to her and then – oh God – he walked towards me.
‘Hello, watch out,’ India said in a stage whisper and then instantly looked uneasy. Immediately of course the others on our table were on high alert.
‘Well, introduce me, why don’t you?’ Marion drawled at me, completely misreading the look of panic in my eyes that I was sure everyone could see.
‘Good evening, everyone; hello, Alexa,’ Gabriel said and my mouth dried up, all the clever repartee with it.
‘Mnah,’ I replied wittily.
‘Lovely to see you again,’ he said. He stood next to me, looking unspeakably gorgeous in his DJ, quite easy and relaxed while I was as taut as a piano wire. ‘I was wondering where you’d got to.’
Was he? No no, I need to be strong. He just wants one more night …
‘Oh, you know, I’ve been here and there. Mostly there. Or here. I can’t remember,’ I gabbled. There, that would teach him to mess with me!
‘Are you going on to the dance after dinner?’
‘Oh, I don’t –’
But before I could finish Marion had leaned across me and held out a hand.
‘Marion Kowlowsky, and this is my husband, Martin.’
‘Marty,’ Marty said, his cheerful, ruddy face grinning up at Gabriel.
Everyone shook hands and was introduced. Ike and Caron asked how he had enjoyed the crossing. There was a bit of routine ship talk about the smoothness of the ocean, the impressive cuisine and high quality of the evening entertainments, and then Ike pulled a spare chair forward from a vacated table and encouraged Gabriel to join us.
‘Well, just for a moment.’ He looked up at Marnie who was still busy being charming. There was a cluster of guests around her taking photographs and asking her to sign their menu cards.
Ike – incapable of letting the table be alcohol-free for more than thirty seconds – ordered brandy all round and then dropped the question into the pond.
‘So, Gabriel, what’s your line of work?’
Gabriel sipped his brandy and flicked a look at me.
‘I work for Miss Miller. Part of her support team.’
‘And what do you do?’
You have to give it to them: Americans aren’t shy of asking awkward questions even on five minutes’ acquaintance. He’d be asking Gabriel what car he drove or how much he was paid next.
At last Gabriel gave a funny little smile.
‘I’m doing some legal work for her at the moment.’
‘What sort of lawyer?’ Marion asked pleasantly. ‘Do you do that high-profile, “counsellors, please approach the bench” courtroom stuff?’
Gabriel laughed and I felt my body fizz all over. ‘No, nothing like that, although I sometimes do go to court if I can’t avoid it.’
‘So do you handle divorces? I might be needing one if Marty keeps on with the smartass comments!’
Everyone laughed and Marty reached across, lips puckered to kiss his wife’s cheek.
Gabriel finished his brandy and stood up, his face very still. Glancing over his shoulder at Marnie he turned back to us with a placid smile back in place.
‘So sorry, I’d better get back. Delightful to meet you all. I hope we’ll meet up later on in the ballroom?’ he added with a glance at me, and I just about managed a strangled smile before he walked away.
‘Oh surely!’ Caron called after him with a throaty chuckle. ‘You can count on it! I might want some free advice too!’ Ike gave her a friendly smack on the arm and they grinned at each other.
Gabriel rejoined Marnie, who was dealing with her last eager fan, and they left the dining room soon afterwards.
‘A lawyer,’ India said, turning to me. ‘That’s not what you told me. Was it?’
‘Oh well, I mean, I think so. He said legal stuff …’ I said, feeling rather odd inside.
The maître d’ then started awarding more scrolls and awards to crew members, there was more clapping and whooping, and I watched as Marty finished up the cheese that had been left on the table.
‘He’s very fine-looking, very charming and so handsome,’ Marion crooned, glancing slyly at her husband.
‘All men look handsome in an evening suit,’ Marty said waspishly.
‘Hmm, yes, most of them,’ Marion responded with a withering look in his direction.
*
I would quite happily have made my excuses and gone to bed but there was no way I was going to be allowed to. India was feeling particularly devilish and practically put me in an armlock when I tried to escape to the lifts.
‘It’s our last gala night on the ship,’ she’d trilled as I attempted to escape. ‘We aren’t going to give up our night of fun just because of him, are we?’
I hadn’t had much choice after that. So when Ike and Caron went off for half an hour to feed the hungry slot machines in the casino, the four of us carried on to the ballroom.
It was still decorated with black and white drapes and harlequin masks from last night’s ball, and there were Peter and Paula, about to do an exhibition dance. Paula’s hair was slicked back into a severe bun and Peter looked like a rather dangerous spiv. I guessed it was going to be a tango.
Marty quickly found us a table and we unloaded our wraps and handbags and waited for the fun to start.
A bottle of champagne in a silver ice bucket arrived swiftly afterwards and I decided I could have a good time.
‘Well, where’s this from?’ Marion asked, having ascertained it was nothing to do with anyone in our party.
I knew who loved champagne.
‘I hope you don’t mind?’
It was Gabriel, standing by the table, one hand on the back of the chair next to mine. I swear the back of my neck was prickling.
‘Why, thank you, that’s very courteous of you. Come and join us!’ Marty said with an expansive wave.
I tried to object. The prospect of spending the evening with him looking as gorgeous as that and to have him directing all his very masculine attention at me was too frightening. I was only just starting my whole determined, strong thing. I didn’t think I was practised enough to withstand him.
‘Oh, I’m sure Mr Frost doesn’t –’
‘I’d love to,’ he interrupted and sat down next to me, his knee touching mine. The warm drift of his aftershave was like an electric shock.
‘You don’t mind?’ He made a small, questioning movement of his hand, his eyebrows raised.
‘No, of course not,’ I said, trying to sound careless.
I had a sudden, hot flashback. Remembering how his body had felt under my hands. His breath on my neck. His voice in my ear.
Great. Just great.
Peter and Paula span, twirled and twitched their heads in fine tango style, her fingers splayed out like starfish. Peter pursed his mouth with macho determination and in a dramatic, trembling finale bent Paula back over one arm, her face a slash of scarlet lipstick under the spotlights.
There was a moment’s silence and then a thunderous round of applause. Marty and a few others stood up, cheering and whooping, and Marion laughed and clapped her hands with glee.
I felt rather than saw Gabriel lean in towards me. He touched my arm and I looked at him.
‘I have to see you,’ he said, his words hidden under the noise of the audience’s approval. I shook my head and looked away.
In the spotlight Peter straightened up and Paula did some spinning and twirling.
Marty was still applauding, slowly sitting back down again.
‘Did you see that? Good as anything you’ll see on TV. Who says I’m wrong?’
‘I have to see you,’ Gabriel said again, his voice low and urgent.
‘I don’t know,’ I said, feeling muddled. ‘I don’t know.’
The excitement of the exhibition tango over, the band began to play generic dance music and couples eagerly flooded on to the dance floor. Gabriel took my hand and steered me away from the table into the shadows at the edge of the floor. I should have resisted, but it would have been ‘making a scene’ and, if I’m really honest, I wanted to go with him. One night, that was what India had said. Even though, right now, she was staring at me with her mouth wide open, I gave her a look that said – I don’t know what I’m doing. But by then he’d put one arm around me and we had begun to waltz as if it was the most natural thing. I’ve no idea if it was waltz music, that’s just what we did. One two three. Making the box.
For a while we didn’t talk. Looking up out of the corner of my eye I could see the clean line of his jaw, his beautiful throat, the crisp white collar of his evening shirt.
‘Where have you been?’ he asked.
‘I’ve been on the ship of course. I could hardly be anywhere else.’
‘You know what I mean,’ he said.
We shuffled on for a while, endlessly making the box and one two three-ing.
I could feel his hand against my back. His touch made me tremble. It was a miracle I could stand up.
‘I want …’
I looked up at him. ‘What? What do you want?’
Gabriel looked down at me; he looked at my mouth and his grey eyes darkened.
‘You know I want you. Don’t you?’
Not to see A Tribute to Space Travel then? I didn’t answer. I couldn’t hear the music any more. I couldn’t think properly.
‘I can’t bear the thought of not seeing you again.’
‘You’ll be going back to London,’ I said, ‘or New York.’
‘Yes.’
‘I’ll be going back to the annexe at the end of my parents’ garden. We have no future together. This isn’t going to go anywhere. I don’t know why you’re bothering.’
‘Alexa?’
And that’s when it happened. I suddenly stopped caring. I knew there was no future, but oh God, I couldn’t give up one more night. I’d be strong tomorrow. Tonight I’d have what I wanted and what I needed. Because sometimes doing something bad for yourself was the right thing to do.
The band played on, cheesy dance tunes. The room filled up with couples, laughing and swaying together to the music. Gabriel and I moved further away and stood in the shadows, not pretending to dance any more, just looking at each other with a terrible need. And then he kissed me.