Page 24 of Old Girls on Deck

‘Then we could have a cup of tea and a nice sit down. There’s proper afternoon tea somewhere,’ Diana said, ‘which might be nice.’

I pulled a face. ‘I’m not actually hungry. I shouldn’t have had those fries.’

‘We can always try it tomorrow. You might change your mind when you see it,’ she said. ‘Let’s go!’

I followed her, glad to see how happy she looked. Her eyes were sparkling and there was a new vivacity on her face. I had been hoping this break from our rather dull routines would help her, and it seemed it was. I was feeling brighter too. Even though I still knew that tomorrow was bin day and Eddy needed to put out the recycling. I wondered if he would remember. And how was the patio construction coming along? Had they even started yet or were they propping up the bar in the Dog and Mole pub complaining about the football?

The new cabin, or more accurately, our new suite, was on deck 11, right at the front of the ship, and it was fabulous.

Opening the door, we peered in like a couple of naughty kids trespassing, and then went in. Everywhere was decorated very tastefully in cream and pale grey and there were accent colours of blue and gold. Instead of two singles, we each had a king-sized bed which were high and stately, and piled with pillows. The bathrobes were white and fluffy and so were the towels. There were large comfortable armchairs in front of a huge television where we could tune in to Dick Dainty in comfort every morning, and a small, well-stocked kitchenette in case we should decide to dine in our cabin.

There was a polite knock at the door. I went to open it. A tall man with an impressive white moustache stood there, wearing an immaculate dark jacket and pin-striped trousers pressed to a knife edge.

‘Madam, I am Alfred, your butler. Your cases have been unpacked. I wonder if there is anything you need?’

Diana and I stared at each other blankly for a second, looking around the suite for something he could do.

We had a butler? And he was called Alfred? And he had already unpacked our cases? (I sent up a silent prayer of relief I had invested in some decent, holiday underwear. I wouldn’t have wanted such a splendid creature to be delving into my bag of dreary old supermarket knickers.)

Was this real or simply an amalgam of all the best bits of my favourite dreams?

‘There must be something we need him to do. I’ve never had a butler before; I don’t want to waste the opportunity,’ I muttered.

‘Perhaps you would like me to open the champagne, madam?’ he suggested.

There was champagne? What a terrific idea!

‘Well, yes I suppose… Would you like Alfred to open the champagne, Diana?’

She dithered for a few moments. I realised this was something she did a lot, hesitating and prevaricating when faced with the simplest decision. I decided not to interrupt, but just leave her to it.

‘I don’t know, do you think we should? Oh, go on then,’ she said at last.

Alfred did a lot of fussing in cupboards and flourishing of white napkins but eventually with a discreet puff, the bottle was opened, and two glasses were poured.

They were presented to us accompanied by porcelain dishes of stuffed olives and smoked almonds.

‘The captain presents his compliments and hopes you will both join him for cocktails in the Renoir room at 5.30p.m. On deck 12.’

‘Lovely,’ I said.

Diana took her champagne and opened the balcony door, stepping out onto a private deck which was big enough for a small party. I went to look around the bathroom.

Alfred retreated with a nod into the quiet place where 24-hour butlers go when they are not wanted. Perhaps he was hooked up to the wall like a hybrid car and left on charge?

I took my champagne and followed her onto the private veranda outside. We exchanged a wide-eyed look of amazement.

As I stood there, I could feel a distant thrum of engines from somewhere deep inside the ship vibrating through my feet.

In the distance to my left, a sullen curtain of rain was falling across France. In front of us was a wide expanse of open sea.

‘This is so evocative,’ Diana said, ‘it reminds me of all the other times in the past when I travelled with Casper. Except he had been on the bridge giving orders and I had been left to do the unpacking. And I had to do things his way or he would get very annoyed. Heaven forbid I put his socks in the wrong drawer.’

Yes, this bore out what Eddy had thought. Perhaps Casper had been a marvellous captain who ran a very tight ship, but he can’t have been that easy to live with.

Diana and I clinked glasses.

‘Isn’t this brilliant. Aren’t we lucky?’ she said. ‘I never expected this.’