‘Wait a moment,’ came the voice from the other side of the door. There was the click of the electronic lock and then there was Sadie, in one of the white waffle-pattern robes provided free to guests. Her hair was down. Her feet were bare, apart from some deep maroon nail polish on each toe. It didn’t look as if she were wearing much underneath the robe.
‘Come in,’ she said; her smile curved up, distinctly flirtatious.
‘Your aunt not here?’ Francis asked.
‘Got rid of her. By moaning about my boyfriend in Cape Town. Works a treat every time. She’s gone off upstairs to play deck quoits or bridge or something. Maybe chat to one of the cranky old bores she’s made friends with. Jesus. They’re all of a type, aren’t they? Republicans with hearing aids who love to boast about what great lives they’ve got back home, what a great cabin they’ve got, what a great discount they managed to negotiate, how many million nights they’ve already spent on these ships. To be honest, it makes me ashamed to call myself American. The only thing approaching a Democrat on this floating hellhole are the two gay guys.’
‘From Montana.’
‘Is that where they’re from?’
‘A state which has recently made gay marriage legal.’
‘Whoopeedoo. Lucky them. So can I get you anything? I’ve got champagne, if you’d like a glass.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘That butler woman, what’s her name …’
‘Mine’s called Hentie.’
‘Hentie, that’s the one, we share a butler, hey, that’s a good sign, came in and said to me, “Ma-dame, I see you have not opened your welcome champagne yet. Are you OK with that vintage?” “No, I am not freaking OK with this vintage,” I screamed. “How dare you? Get me something ten years older at least.”’ Sadie laughed, tipsily. ‘No, I didn’t. I decided to open it. She brought me a lovely bucket full of ice. And now I’ve drunk half the bottle on my own. Are you sure I can’t get you a little glass?’
‘OK then, just a little one.’
‘That’s my boy.’ Sadie went over to the ice bucket, pulled out the bottle, filled a flute for Francis and topped up her own. ‘D’you mind if I get back into bed? You can sit on the end here if you like.’
‘It’s OK,’ said Francis. ‘I’ll pull up a chair.’
‘You can’t pull them up, you freak. They’re stuck to the floor. Didn’t you realize that? Although they try and give the impression this is an uber comfortable drawing room, it’s actually a cabin. In a ship. That’s way out on the ocean. Which could be invaded by pirates. Or hit a rock and sink, if our rugged Ukranian captain makes a tiny misjudgement sometime.’
‘How do you know he’s Ukranian?’
‘Klaus told us, remember. Anyway, I chatted to him at the Captain’s Drinks Party. He was surprisingly friendly for such a heavy-looking guy.’ Sadie looked hard at him over the rim of her glass. ‘So how’s it all going, Francis? What’s going on with our Australian friend?’
‘She’s helping me,’ he said.
‘With your investigations?’ Sadie teased.
‘Yes.’
‘It may not be obvious to the rest of the passengers what you’re up to – but it is to me.’
What did she mean? That she thought he fancied Carmen? The horrid truth was that if he were attracted to anyone on this ship, it was to her, Sadie. Didn’t she see that? Perhaps she did, because even as she tried to get at him about Carmen, she was doing her best to play the part of seductress, with her long legs spread out over the counterpane, the thin white robe open loosely at her neck. The folds of the waffle-pattern cloth failed to conceal the creamy swell of her breasts below that. One simple move would render her completely naked in front of him, and they were both aware of that.
He decided to call her bluff. ‘So what exactly am I up to?’ he asked.
She looked at him measuredly. ‘Two people have now died on this ship, Francis. For all you told me the other evening about poor Eve I’m not convinced that either was a natural death. We are still in the middle of a cruise, for which a lot of stuffed shirts and their hideous tinselly wives have paid a shitload of dough. So the captain and cruise director are not going to piss off their bosses back in Monaco or London or wherever they hang out, they are going to do their utmost to keep the show on the road. They are not heading at speed to the nearest port, and I don’t think they intend to invite the police of Sierra Leone to step on board and solve the mystery. In the meantime, they are pretty keen to work out whether this is just a case of an old lady dying of old age and a drunk falling off the edge of the ship or something more sinister. Like, Francis, a double murder. With all that that entails. So, knowing your pedigree as a writer and solver of mysteries, they have hired you as an ad hoc private investigator. And given Carmen the job of being your sidekick-stroke-minder.’
Francis found himself laughing. ‘Not bad,’ he said. He had completely misunderstood her about Carmen.
Sadie swung her legs round on to the floor and walked, a little unsteadily, across to the ice bucket. ‘More champagne? Go on, it’s a very good year.’ She scrutinized the label. ‘Lanson 1994. What were you doing in 1994, Francis? I was a little girl, with bows in my hair, running around Brooklyn Heights.’
He accepted a top up. He certainly hadn’t been a little girl, or boy, in 1994. He had been just out of college, living in a damp basement in Kennington, working behind a bar in Covent Garden every evening while his new wife trained as a lawyer; those all-too-short years before Kate had died had been the happiest of his life.
‘Not very good at resisting temptation, are you?’ Sadie teased, as she sat down on the bed again. ‘Although you did quite well the other evening, I thought. Given that we’re on a ship miles from anywhere and you have no attachments at home. Or so you tell me.’
Francis didn’t want to upset her, but he thought it was probably the right moment to call time on this interview. He took a fizzy gulp of his champagne and got to his feet.
‘I’d better go. I’m sorry, Sadie. I thought from your tone upstairs that you had something important to tell me.’
‘Don’t rush off. Maybe I do have something important to tell you.’
‘Don’t mess around, Sadie. If you’ve got information I need to know, let’s have it.’ Francis was tempted to tell her about George Bernard Dimagiba, but then again, could he trust her?
‘Sit down for a minute,’ she said. ‘Here, beside me. I’m not going to pounce on you.’ She took a breath and composed herself. ‘I don’t know whether this is of interest, but what I’ve been wanting to tell you while you’ve been avoiding me …’
‘I haven’t been avoiding you.’
‘Was that I saw that woman that went overboard.’
‘Lauren?’
‘Yes, her, in a clinch the other evening.’
‘In a clinch?’
‘Snogging. In a doorway. Up on deck seven.’
‘With?’ he asked, though he already knew the answer.
‘That French hotel director guy, what’s his name…?’
‘Gregoire.’
‘Yeah. I’m not sure they realized I’d seen them, because I was over the other side of the deck, but …’
‘When exactly was this?’
‘A couple of evenings ago. The night before we went to see those slave forts. Sunday, I guess.’
‘And it was definitely Gregoire?’
‘Oh yeah. There’s no one else on the ship with hair like that. Unless she’d found a blond stowaway in her wardrobe.’ She laughed. ‘No, it was Gregoire all right.’
‘And she didn’t see you?’
‘No. She was far too busy with him. Whether they were actually doing more than snogging I don’t know. They were very close. I didn’t stick around for long. Just glanced over, saw them wriggling up against each other, and kept going.’
‘And that’s all you’ve got to tell me?’
‘Hey, that’s significant, isn’t it? Maybe he had something to do with her going overboard.’
Francis shrugged.
‘You know something?’ she asked.
‘There are a number of things we’re looking at,’ he replied. ‘But what you’ve told me is very interesting. Thank you.’
‘Oh, Francis. You’ve become so dry and distant. You weren’t like this last night.’
‘A lot’s happened since last night.’
She fixed him with a considered, quizzical look.
‘Have you and … whatsername … actually … got it together?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. We’re working together. The captain has asked me to look into things, and since Carmen is on the expedition team, and knows how the ship works, she’s helping me.’
‘Uh-huh.’ Sadie didn’t sound convinced. She got to her feet, walked over to the ice bucket and plucked out the glistening green bottle. Droplets fell from it as she teetered back to where he sat on the bed.
‘One for the road?’ she asked, filling Francis’s glass before he could stop her. She topped up hers, put the bottle on the bedside table, then sat down next to him.
‘So nothing’s going on?’ she said. ‘With her?’
‘No.’
‘And you don’t want anything to go on?’
‘No.’
‘I’m a little puzzled by you, Francis. Here you are, this attractive guy, who knows he’s attractive, with women making it fairly plain to you that they’re interested, and you do nothing about it. Are you in fact gay?’
‘No.’
‘Maybe that’s what you like. Just swanning around, soaking up the admiration. But it seems a waste to me, when you could be having a good time.’ Her hand came over and rested on his upper thigh. ‘A seriously good time,’ she added.
When he didn’t move away, she started, very slowly, to stroke the bare skin of his legs with her fingers. He could feel his hairs bristle. Inside his shorts, he was aware, damn it, of an all-too visible bulge.
Sadie’s hand moved up. ‘You see, Francis. You’re not such a dry old stick as you like to pretend.’
It was time to go, very definitely time to go. But still he sat there, mesmerized, as, very gently, with two fingers, she stroked him through the thin fabric of his shorts. She knew exactly what she was doing, as she watched him, intently, her lovely dark eyes fixed on his, weakening his best instincts. Then, slowly, theatrically, she ran the tip of her tongue around her lips. Her little seduction act was corny, ridiculous, but it was working; he was breathing heavily, succumbing fast. Now she cupped him with her fingers.
‘I don’t think that wants to stay in there much longer,’ she said, as her thumb and forefinger reached for the brass oblong catch of his zip.
He breathed in sharply and got to his feet. ‘No,’ he said, abruptly. ‘I’m sorry. It’s not the right time. There’s one hell of a lot going on, Sadie. I need to get on with it. In any case, this isn’t wise.’
She let out a bark of laughter. ‘Wise! My God, Francis, you’ve got one heck of a lot of self-control. There’s not many men who would walk away from a girl as horny as I am right now.’
She had let her robe fall open, so her flushed nakedness was all too visible.
He laughed in return. ‘I’m sure there aren’t. You must forgive me, Sadie. Maybe we can have a drink or something later. Dinner.’
She was watching him in quiet amazement. ‘Are all you English guys like this? You know what, Francis. I’d love a drink later. Or dinner. If you can fit me in to your busy schedule. Maybe I can suck you off under the table while you savour your freakin’ blackcurrant sorbet.’
He turned and headed for the cabin door. If he didn’t go now, that would be it.
‘Don’t I get a little thank you for my useful info?’ she called.
‘Thank you,’ he said. But unlike Lot’s wife, he didn’t turn.
‘Remember. We’re all in the same boat. Ha ha! Ship. We’re not go-o-o-ing anywhere.’
His hand was on the gleaming brass handle – and he was out of there.