The playing cards slid across the table, along with Fina’s gin and tonic. The cards escaped, cascading to the floor in a gentle descent. The gin and tonic was held back, however, by those clever rails installed on the round tables in the green room.
She sipped the crisp G & T, savouring the sweet bitterness of the drink. Despite everything that had happened, she was enjoying herself. After a good supper and a liberal amount of wine, she felt everything was right in the world. Well, almost. Ruby looked as if she were enjoying herself too, imbibing a glass of white port.
Duke Ellington’s ‘Solitude’ drifted from the gramophone in the corner.
Sadie lounged in a glorious pink and black muslin evening dress with a crossover cape. She twirled her pearl necklace between her fingers. Though she gave the physical appearance of attentiveness to Gustave’s conversation, Fina could see by her slightly glazed eyes that her mind was elsewhere.
Phillip, Violet, Dolores and Ian played a lively game of bridge. Violet looked smashing in her white leather shoes, a black and white spotted dress, and a bow belt. Fina noticed a slight colour in Violet’s cheeks for the first time. When it wasn’t her turn, Violet rearranged the sugar bowl and shakers on the table, first in a line and then as a triangle.
Dolores held her jade cigarette holder steadily to her mouth. Though she appeared detached from the game, she still somehow managed to play. If Ian’s grunts of approval were any indication, she was a good bridge partner.
Patricia and Emeline sat ensconced in a corner, backs to the wall. Emeline’s carpet bag perched on her knees as if it were a cat. She perused some pamphlet or another. Fina could tell, even from this distance, that it was some sort of instructional manual – probably about how to protect the moral fitness of your pet.
Patricia seemed to be the only one who wasn’t enjoying herself. Her amber brooch, in the shape of a spider, looked as if it might attack Emeline if it had the chance to jump off her lapel. Frowning, she sucked furiously on a cigarette in a scarlet holder. It seemed as if she couldn’t get enough of the juice of the cigarette – Fina half expected her to remove it from the holder and begin chomping on it like a cigar. Instead, she persevered and quickly inserted another cigarette – as if her life depended on it.
Fina focused on Patricia, wondering if her wandering eye might find Sadie. As if on cue, Patricia’s eyes scanned the room and began to stare at Sadie’s neck. Clearly sensing the stare, Sadie’s head swivelled around to stare back at Patricia – for just a moment before she returned to her conversation with Gustave.
Fina bent over to retrieve the recalcitrant cards. The ace of spades and the jack of diamonds. Ominous indeed.
Neville materialised to assist her. She was grateful for the help, as bending over in her alcohol-infused condition was not a brilliant idea. She held her head as she sat upright.
“Are you OK, Feens?” asked Ruby, taking a small sip of port. “A little too much G in your T?” she smiled.
“Yes, perhaps, but I feel quite wonderful!” replied Fina.
Neville gave a short smile. “Perhaps I should ask Lev to serve you some water, or some coffee?” he enquired.
“Certainly not,” Fina retorted, feeling her neck grow warm. “I’m perfectly fine. Just a little tipsy. That’s all.”
Neville nodded and moved back to the bar. Lev rearranged glasses while Neville chatted with Agnes. Maxwell Mills seemed to be a very egalitarian captain, thought Fina. Then she thought perhaps this was due to the warm glow of the gin.
Lev loaded his tray with passengers’ beverages of choice. Even though they had set sail only a few days ago, Fina already knew passenger preferences for beverages. Ruby had suggested that Fina should practise memorising details about situations and people. It would come in handy for their missions. Fina thought beverages would be a good way to start, especially because they sometimes revealed a hidden personality trait.
Gustave preferred a daiquiri. Sadie, ever the experimenter, had tried a sidecar earlier, but then requested a gimlet for this round. Emeline guzzled ginger beer like there was no tomorrow. Patricia preferred port – tawny port – but switched to white port when she saw it was available. Violet ordered a small neat rum, the cheapest drink available. Phillip ordered a Tom Collins, and Dolores requested a bourbon on the rocks. Fina thought that last drink said something about Dolores’ personality, but she wasn’t sure what it could be.
On impulse, Fina rushed to the bar. “Lev, could you make me a special drink? Your own creation?” He peered over the bar at her. Though he didn’t smile, his mouth curved upward just enough to create a hint of a smile. “Certainly,” he said. “You like cherries?”
“Oh yes. I adore cherries,” she replied. “What is the drink called?”
He ignored her while he mixed his concoction. He placed the auburn liquid in a highball glass on the counter. Fina sipped it. “Mmm,” she said in approval. “What’s in it and what is it called?”
“Cognac, bitters and cherry liqueur. And it is called a Tarpan.”
“It’s delicious. What does ‘tarpan’ mean?”
“Ah, well, where I come from, it is a kind of horse.”
Crash.
Metal clashing against metal made a tremendous racket from somewhere outside. This was followed by a screech and then a low growl.
Everyone rushed to the door. They all moved onto deck to see pots and pans rolling out of the kitchen. Sarah bent over and began to gather them up. Nearby, the same cat Ruby and Fina had seen earlier sat near the mountain of metal. The cat licked one paw slowly, back turned to Sarah.
“That damn cat! How did Souse get into my kitchen, I’d like to know?” she grumbled. Lev sprinted over to Sarah, but not before he gave Souse a friendly pat. Sarah did not look amused at his encouragement of such scandalous behaviour.
Drama at an end, the crowd moved back, en masse, into the green room. A great murmur of excited voices crescendoed and then died down as they all retook their places. Nerves were clearly on edge.
Neville distributed drinks around the room. His first stop was Ruby and Fina’s table. He set down Fina’s Tarpan with a half wink.
He moved around the room, deftly dodging moving chairs, limbs and the occasional casual hand flown out in a grand gesture with a cigarette attached. Delivering the last of the drinks to Emeline and Patricia’s table, he returned to the bar.
Violet, who clearly had had one too many tots of rum, raised her glass in a toast. She rose from her seat, a little wobbly on her feet. Probably a combination of the drink and the swaying of the boat. Phillip touched her lightly on the hand and began to jiggle his leg at the same time – Fina couldn’t tell if he was pulling her back down into her seat or giving her gentle encouragement. She decided it must be the former, given his rather alarmed expression.
“Dear friends, we have suffered tragedy but we shall pull through this together,” she said, nearly hitting her husband in the head with her glass. Instinctively, Ruby and Fina glanced at each other. “Thank you to, a…” Fina winced in embarrassment for Violet as she grasped for Lev’s name. “Ah, thank you to Lev for these wonderful drinks,” she said, sloshing her drink in his direction at the bar. Lev couldn’t help himself and broke out in a wide grin. Fina thought it clearly suppressed a laugh.
Without warning, a retching, writhing sound came from the corner of the room. A loud thud followed.
Fina swivelled round to see that one of the guests had collapsed upon the table, her head buried in the tablecloth, her arms hanging limp. It was Patricia. Her sister’s mouth gawped in a soundless scream.