The two men were standing at either side of the tender lobby – and Vera had a pretty good idea they were both waiting for the same person.
She stopped by the corner of the lift, pretty much hidden from view, and watched both of them. They were so very different.
Glen was talking to the people around him. No doubt they were still asking about the dramatic rescue, but that didn’t seem to bother him. His bruises were fading and it was becoming increasingly obvious that he really was a handsome man, with his sandy hair and blue eyes. In fact, Vera suddenly realised, quite a few of the people talking to him were women. That made sense.
Kit, on the other hand was standing alone. His stiff body language discouraged casual conversation. His brooding good looks attracted covert glances from the women, but no one approached him. None of the women seemed willing to look past that cold outer shell. No – there was one.
Jenny was standing by the door that led to the crew quarters and she too was watching Glen and Kit. She was frowning slightly, but as her eyes rested on Kit, the frown was replaced by an entirely different look. Then she stepped into the boat lobby. At almost the exact some moment, both men turned to look at her. Glen smiled broadly. Kit didn’t, but something in his eyes changed.
‘Oh,’ thought Vera. ‘So that’s how it is.’
She wasn’t really surprised. Jenny was a lovely girl. Attractive and fun. She positively glowed with life and energy. Any man with a pulse would notice her, particularly on a ship where there were few single women. And most of those were, like Vera, no longer in their prime.
As for the men … both were extremely attractive. In different ways.
Vera looked from one man to the other. Then back to Jenny. The girl might not be aware of it, but her face told Vera everything she needed to know.
‘I’d better do something about that,’ Vera muttered under her breath.
‘Today’s expedition is to Cape Hallett,’ Karl Anders’ voice boomed out across the crowded lobby. ‘As yesterday’s landing was cancelled due to the weather, today we are visiting another penguin rookery. The Adélie penguins here were pushed away by earlier explorers wanting to build a station. But that station has been abandoned, and so the penguins are back.’
Vera saw Karl wave Jenny forward.
‘Let’s start loading the boats,’ the big man continued. ‘Jenny will take the first Zodiac.’
At that announcement, both Glen and Kit moved forward to be at the front of the queue for Jenny’s boat. If Vera was going to make a move, now was the time. Jenny was still making her way through the crowd. Vera stepped forward until she was in her path. As her friend approached, Vera suddenly gave a little cry and staggered.
‘Vera!’ Jenny was at her side in a heartbeat. ‘Are you all right?’
‘I’m feeling a little faint, Jenny.’ Vera whispered
‘Don’t worry. I’ll help you back to your cabin,’ Jenny’s voice, full of genuine concern, gave Vera just a twinge of guilt.
‘Thank you,’ she said, struggling to keep her voice quivering.
Jenny put an arm around Vera’s shoulders and somehow managed to catch her boss’s eye through the crowd surging towards the boat hatch.
Karl nodded and Jenny began to guide Vera towards the lifts.
While they waited for the lift to arrive, Vera risked a quick glance across at the boat hatch. Glen was gone, already loaded into the Zodiac. Kit was standing by the open hatch, obviously torn. He had wanted to go with Jenny, but to decline to step into the boat now would have attracted too much of the attention that he hated. A second later, he turned towards the Zodiac and was gone.
Vera felt a surge of energy. Yes! She struggled to remain bowed over, as if with tiredness until the lift arrived and she and Jenny were alone inside it.
‘Right,’ she said straightening her back. ‘First we need to stop at deck three.’
‘But Vera, your cabin is on five,’ Jenny’s voice had taken on the soothing tone of a nurse.
‘I know that, Jenny,’ Vera said. ‘But that’s not where we are going.’
‘We’re not?’
‘No. We’re not.’
At that moment the doors opened and Vera led the way out into the main reception area. Now they were fully underway, the area was deserted. Vera moved swiftly to the desk and the computer on it.
‘Vera, what’s going on?’ Jenny asked. ‘I thought you were ill.’
‘I’m fine, my dear,’ Vera said, quickly glancing around the desk. She reached for the top draw, but it was locked.
‘Damn,’ she muttered under her breath
‘Vera!’ Jenney’s voice was stern. ‘What’s going on?’
‘We don’t have a lot of time,’ Vera said. ‘Have you got your cabin key-card on you?’
‘Of course,’ Jenny said.
‘Can I have it for a moment?’
Jenny dug into the pocket of her jacket and handed it over. Vera examined it closely.
‘I thought as much,’ she said. ‘The crew cards are different. This should work then.’
She slid the card into the slot on the card reader next to the registration desk computer. The she reached for the keyboard.
‘Vera!’ Jenny exclaimed.
‘Shhh! Keep your voice down. I’m trying to concentrate.’
Vera studied the screen and reached for the mouse. A couple of clicks put her exactly where she wanted to be. There was the name Mr Christopher Walker. And the cabin number 642.
‘What are you doing?’ Jenny whispered, looking frantically around in case someone else was watching.
‘Reprogramming your cabin key’
‘What! Why?’
‘We need to investigate something.’
‘Investigate what?’
Vera didn’t bother answering. Her task completed, she retrieved Jenny’s card from the reader and set off towards the lift. Jenny followed.
‘How did you learn to do that?’ Jenny asked as the doors slid shut on them.
‘Just something I learned. You pick up all sorts of strange things in my line of work,’ Vera answered.
‘Your line …’ Jenny’s voice trailed off.
Ah, thought Vera. At last.
‘Vera Horsley … What’s your middle name?’ Jenny asked slowly.
‘Josephine.’
‘V.J. Horsley. There’s a crime writer by that name.’
‘Yes there is,’ Vera admitted.
‘That’s you!’
‘Yes. Now come on.’ The lift doors opened and Vera led the way down a long corridor. Jenny followed, her frown deepening as she absorbed the information she had just received. It wasn’t until Vera stopped outside a door that Jenny seemed to return to the present. She looked at the name of the suite and turned to Vera, her face a mask of shock.
‘No! Vera. You can’t just break into someone’s cabin.’
‘It’s not breaking. I have a key,’ Vera slipped the card into the slot.
‘No!’ Jenny grabbed hold of her arm. Vera winced at the force with which the girl was holding her. ‘I’ll get fired.’
‘No you won’t. I’m a crime writer. I know how to cover our tracks.’ Vera pushed the door open a crack. ‘He’s hiding something. Aren’t you just a little bit curious?’
Jenny’s hesitation was all the answer she needed to give. Vera pushed against the heavy cabin door with all her strength. It slowly opened and both women stepped across the threshold.
Vera let go of the door, oblivious to the sound of it slamming closed. Her jaw dropped as she gazed around the room.
‘Oh,’ she said. ‘He’s THAT Kit Walker!’
The room was a blaze of colour. A riot that almost overwhelmed her senses. Jenny blinked, her mind staggering as it tried to understand what she was seeing. Canvasses lined the walls. Some were barely started. Others looked complete. Or very nearly so. They were good. They were powerful.
They took her breath away.
Slowly Jenny stepped forward for a closer look at the painting nearest to her. It showed a sky, shot through with colour. In the sky two giant birds soared together, seeming almost to move through the brilliance around them. Albatross, paired in flight. As she looked at them, Jenny had a feeling as if there was someone else in that painting. Someone just out of sight. Someone reflected in the shadows of the birds eyes. Someone who could be …
She shook her head and moved to the next painting. Dolphins danced on the waves, life and joy and light seeming to shine from them as they played. Their bodies were half twisted in the air as if to look back at someone. Someone just outside the frame of the painting. Someone who was watching them.
It couldn’t be her. Could it?
The painting of the ice was as blinding in its intensity as the ice itself had been yesterday. Not white, but all the colours of the rainbow flashing through the painting as she moved towards it. And at one side, a wisp of something that might be the watcher’s dark hair.
‘Jenny.’ Vera’s soft voice drew her attention to a painting propped on a chair.
This one was far from complete, but already the image was leaping from the canvas. A girl on the deck of a boat. Looking out over the ocean. Her face was turned slightly away from the painter, but it was clear from the toss of her head that she was laughing. Jenny could almost hear the sound. Even incomplete, it was a breathtaking piece of art. It was …
‘Me?’ Jenny said.
‘Yes. You.’ Vera’s voice was full of awe.
‘I don’t understand,’ Jenny said, struggling to get the words out.
‘You really don’t know who he is, do you?’ Vera said.
Jenny shook her head. ‘I didn’t take art at school, and at uni I was always too busy studying …’ And falling in love with a professor, she added to herself. An arrogant underhand cheat of a man, who didn’t deserve to be mentioned in the same breath as the artist who had produced the paintings that lined the cabin.
‘Kit Walker was … is … a brilliant artist who took the world by storm. He’s Australian, but his work soon took him to New York and London. He was feted as a genius. He married a principle dancer from the New York ballet …’
Jenny felt her heart clench at those words. ‘Married …?’
‘Yes,’ Vera continued. ‘She was so beautiful. I saw her dance once. She was like an angel. It was a fairy tale. The artist and the dancer. Until it ended in tragedy.’
Jenny dragged her eyes away from the painting and looked at Vera. The older woman was visibly moved by the story she was telling. And by the great passion in the paintings that surrounded them.
‘What happened?’
Vera took a slow deep breath. ‘No one knows for sure. There was a lot of speculation in the media. Some people said it was suicide. Some said he killed her.’
‘No!’ The exclamation was out before Jenny could stop it. ‘He wouldn’t. He couldn’t …’
An image sprang unbidden to her mind. Kit on the top deck in the darkness. His face inches from her own. His words echoed softly in her mind … You would, wouldn’t you, Jenny. You would fight. You’d never give up. You’d never leave … someone you loved.
‘He vanished from public view then,’ Vera continued. ‘They said he’d stopped painting. The work he’d already done became even more valuable. Some of the tabloids suggested he had killed himself in grief at losing her.’
Jenny’s mind flashed back to those first nights on the cruise. Kit standing on the upper deck staring out to sea. Was that why he had come to this wild place? Had he been planning to kill himself? To step off the safety of the deck into the cold dark water? No! She would never believe that.
‘But now, it seems he is working again.’ Vera said her voice tinged with awe. ‘He’s found a new muse.’
Jenny dragged her eyes away from the painting and found Vera looking at her with a strange intensity.
‘A new muse …’
‘You, Jenny. You’re his muse now.’
‘No.’ Jenny almost staggered across the room to perch on the edge of the bed. She gazed around the cabin in confusion. Without thinking she bent to pick up a piece of paper from the floor. It was an old envelope, torn open. She looked at the funeral home logo on the corner and slowly realised that every word Vera had spoken was true. There was no denying any of it. In her heart she knew it was her in those paintings. Or rather, not in them. The thought was almost too much to bear. To be the centre of such passion. Such talent. Such amazing art. It was a responsibility she didn’t want.
The envelope slipped through her fingers back onto the floor.
‘Let’s go.’ Rising to her feet, she took a step and suddenly the desire to get out of this room was overwhelming. She raced to the door and pulled it open. Heedless of whether Vera was following, Jenny raced along the corridor, her feet making a dull thud on the carpet. She turned at the stairway and raced up to the top deck.
It was empty. Jenny moved to the familiar spot where she had stood so often before – sometimes with Kit by her side. She looked out over the water towards the land. She could see a small boat moving back towards the ship.
Was Kit on board that boat, she wondered? Would he be looking for her? Would she be on his mind when he returned to his cabin to take up his brushes again?
Jenny struggled to cope with conflicting emotions. To inspire such work was an honour. To bring some sort of inspiration to a man like Kit was … beyond her wildest dreams. To be the subject of such exceptional work was … overwhelming.
How was she going to face him again … knowing what she now knew?
What was she going to say to him next time they stood together up here, sharing the silence of the night?