Page 29 of Old Girls on Deck
Wow, the number of times I have heard people ask her that question.
People responded to the information that she was a widow in different ways. Either they veered away in case death or tragedy might be infectious, and she might start crying all over them at any moment. Or they believed that she wanted to unload on them. That she wanted to tell them about the sleepless nights, the sadness, the confusion she must have experienced. Which of course, she didn’t.
I could remember the many times when I had just sat silently with her, holding her hand, making her tea, fending callers off when it all got too much for her, not really knowing what to say to comfort her. Had I done enough? Was there anything else I could have said or done?
‘I mustn’t monopolise you,’ Diana said at last, very skilfully, I thought. ‘Don’t you think that man over there with the silver hair looks very familiar? Hollywood perhaps? The Downton Abbey thing.’
Her eyes narrowed with interest. ‘Yes, I think you might be right.’
Thelma, immediately distracted like a kitten following a laser beam, let go of Diana’s wrist and trotted off, closely followed by Ken who was still holding a plate of vol-au-vents.
‘Well that’s nice, you made a new friend,’ I said. ‘What did the captain say?’
‘Nice things about Casper, of course. And then more details about going into the broom cupboard with Dick Dainty and letting him interview me about life as a captain’s wife.’
I wondered how the old Diana would have coped with that if such a thing had been allowed. Thinking about it, I doubted it would even have been suggested. W.O.B.: Wife on Board – so she would have been treated very differently. Now perhaps she could see that she had her own perspective, and that people might be interested in what she had to say.
‘And you said?’
‘Nothing, really. I was too amazed that he would even suggest it.’
‘Why? Don’t be so daft. Your experiences are just as valuable as anyone else’s and a lot more interesting than most.’
‘Madame,’ it was Raphaël again. ‘The captain has asked if I could take some pictures of you both, more formal shots. Would you mind?’
Well, this holiday was turning into one surprise after the other.
‘Okay,’ I said, allowing him to guide us towards the display of orchids again.
He started taking pictures, moving us this way and that. A fingertip under my chin, turning Diana towards him, adjusting her evening stole. I wasn’t wrong, there was definitely a bit of a frisson going on between them. Rather mischievously, I wondered what I could do to encourage her.
So, photographs taken, I decided to move away from them a little and took a couple of steps towards a waiter holding a very enticing tray of pigs in blankets while still earwigging on their conversation. Raphaël stuck out his lower lip in the way that French men do.
‘I can tell you have lived a life that is interesting. You have a look in your eyes that is mysterious.’
Diana laughed. ‘I’m not at all mysterious, I am confused. Like most women my age.’
‘Age is nothing,’ he said, ‘just a number.’
‘People say things like that when they are young. Not when that number becomes something alarming.’
He laughed. ‘The French have a saying. There is no beauty in youth that cannot be improved by life.’
Diana rolled her eyes. ‘Raphaël, I think that’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard.’
Gosh, I was so proud of her. Even in such a short time, she was coming out of herself, showing more spark and confidence than she had for a long time, and it did my heart good to see it.
He laughed and moved to take another picture from a different angle.
‘Don’t frown. Look at me. That’s beautiful. You have the most amazing face. And your blue eyes, filled with mysteries.’
Goodness me, he was smooth. And watching this little flirtation from the outside was fascinating. I tried to imagine Eddy saying something like that to me.
Jill, you have the most amazing face; your sort of brownish eyes filled with mysteries. What’s for lunch?
I snorted into my drink at the very thought. I couldn’t remember such an occasion. But then he hadn’t really been one for handing out compliments, not ever. Which was a shame. I would have liked some, I realised. Just occasionally. But then had we ever been that sort of couple? Like Casper and Diana. The sort who held hands and expressed admiration for each other. I suppose we knew the other person so well, there never seemed to be the need for compliments and flattery. But every so often…
I looked at Raphaël, wondering what he was seeing and why he was flirting so obviously. It made me feel a little bit uncomfortable. My sister might be coming out of her shell but that didn’t mean she wasn’t still fragile.