Page 12 of Old Girls on Deck

‘Madame Evelyn.’ The maître d’ himself had brought her starter, which was scallops and a giant prawn on a dainty bed of rocket with shards of crispy bacon scattered over the top.

Evelyn sparkled back at him. ‘Manuel! Thank you! And how very handsome you look this evening.’

To begin with, the waiters were very attentive. Menus were flourished and bread rolls and carafes of iced water were brought, but then a great herd of hungry travellers appeared at the doors and the waiters zoomed off to sort them out, leaving us in peace.

We enjoyed our langoustine salad starter, chicken with mushroom and brandy sauce and then tiramisu, washed down with what I guessed would be the first of many bottles of white wine.

‘I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed life on board a ship,’ Diana said wistfully, ‘although it still feels odd not to have Casper on the bridge. He always said that life behind the scenes was a very different story.’

Evelyn had gone by then, collecting up a very stylish handbag from under her chair, and bidding us a smiling farewell.

I nodded. ‘I suppose so, after all, they are working. Not like us, enjoying a holiday.’

I looked out of the window at the darkening sea and wondered what the next ten days would bring us. The prospect of many meals like this one, evenings watching the shows, taking part in some classes perhaps, going on excursions. And most importantly spending some proper time with Diana instead of a snatched coffee occasionally. Perhaps finding out how she was really coping with living on her own.

Had I been a proper support to her over the last few years? I had been so busy with work before I retired, running the house, dealing with the boys. And Eddy of course. And suddenly out of the blue I found myself missing him. He wouldn’t have had chicken; he would have had steak. And then he would have looked disapprovingly at my tiramisu before snaffling half of it on the pretext of ‘helping me out’. The thought made me smile.

3

We followed the crowds after dinner and found ourselves in the Ocean Spray theatre, which was a huge auditorium furnished with red and blue velvet seats and a large empty stage.

There was a lot of excited chatter as people rushed to find seats at the front, and almost as soon as they had sat down, stood up again to order drinks.

‘Things have changed a lot since I was last on board ship,’ Diana said.

‘I only got Eddy to go on one cruise and that didn’t really amount to much,’ I replied.

‘I remember. And remind me, when was that?’

‘1988. We went on a trip around the Channel Islands the year after we got married. The weather was horrible, the food was dull and looking back on it, there was no reason why he should have enjoyed it. He got seasick every time we took the ferry to France. Cruising then wasn’t half as sophisticated as it is now. He’ll be much happier at home with his paving slabs and a cement mixer.’

I knew this was true, and in a way, it made me sad. This beautiful ship with all its comfort and opportunity was marvellous. I could just imagine us, sitting in comfortable armchairs with a brandy after dinner, people watching and laughing together like the couples on the website. Surely he would have enjoyed it too? Diana had been all over the place, visiting countries in every part, while Eddy and I had hardly been anywhere. We had missed out on so much of the world. It seemed such a shame.

‘I’m sure you could both have come with us in the past; travel is so interesting,’ Diana said, ‘there’s such a lot to see. I hadn’t realised how much I had missed it until now. I went to so many interesting places with Casper. It got to the point when if he suggested the Caribbean, I would roll my eyes and joke. Not there again, darling.’

And that was another thing. Casper and my sister always called each other ‘darling’. Eddy never called me that. I would probably have laughed if he had. And Casper was always very liberal with charm and compliments when we went out together as a foursome. I wondered what it would be like to have a husband who did that. Eddy once told me when I was all dolled up to go somewhere that I ‘scrubbed up well’, which wasn’t the same at all.

‘That man spoiled you,’ I said, remembering my occasional feelings of envy. Diana looked sad for a moment.

‘I know. I do miss him, even though it’s been nearly five years. When we had time together he was good company, you see, despite everything. That’s the worst thing about being a widow. If I have some good news, or a problem, he’s still the first person I expect to talk to and I can’t.’

I could understand this part. Eddy might not have been the most demonstrative of husbands, but he always listened to my problems without mansplaining, and he made a mean margarita.

I squeezed her hand. ‘But you’ve done so well, and you’ve still got Sam, and there might be grandchildren soon.’

‘I know, I shouldn’t complain. But Sam and Fizz are so busy with their own lives. And to be honest, we don’t communicate as much as I would like. He’s not like Joe and Luke, always popping back, raiding the fridge. And Eric might mean well, but he’s such an old grouch. Do you know, sometimes it feels as though I don’t have a life of my own like I used to,’ she added with unexpected heat, ‘I’m just pottering around on the edge of everyone else’s.’

Yes, I could see she might feel like that. Perhaps I should have insisted she get out more, taken her with me, offered her the support she needed. I’d still been working until a few months ago, but that was no excuse. I felt guilty all over again.

‘Anyway look, something’s happening,’ she said.

A short, energetic man strutted out onto the stage to the accompaniment of ‘Keep On Truckin’, provoking a splattering of applause and some choreographed whooping from the bar staff. He stood in the spotlight for a moment, a microphone nestling on his cheek like a stray Rice Krispie, rubbing his hands together.

‘Welcome! On behalf of the Bretagne Voyage Première shipping line, welcome everyone. Thank you for travelling with us. New friends and old, bless your hearts. I’m your cruise director and my name’s Dick Dainty. You won’t forget that will you? Dainty by name and Dainty by nature. Your entertainment is my passion. You’ll never guess; I was stung by a bee as I was coming on board.’ He paused to nod at the sympathetic noises from the audience. And then widened his eyes. ‘Twenty quid for a jar of honey. I mean, I ask you?’

There was appreciative laughter, some groans, and even some applause.

‘And we have such a lot to get through on this voyage, I don’t know how we are going to fit it all in, really, I don’t. The Avanti dancers are limbering up behind me, it makes my joints ache just looking at them. Then on Thursday there’s Carol Cusson, a singer straight from Broadway where she has been starring in the musical extravaganza Birds and Bees – she’s been positively buzzing! Did you see what I did there? Then later in the week, a big Avanti welcome to Max Mastero, a supremely talented ventriloquist from Argentina…’