Page 31 of Old Girls on Deck
‘Yes, I do,’ he said, his brow furrowing.
‘Vanish, that’s what I use when I have difficult stains. I’m sure you can get it in France, although it might be called something different. What’s the French for vanish? Aller? No that’s to “go” isn’t it? Anyway, it works a treat. Eddy spilled some ketchup on his best shirt and…’
I was confusing him horribly and the conversation was getting rather muddled.
‘What did you say your dog was called?’
‘Chic,’ he replied, and I realised my mistake.
‘Gosh, well it’s been lovely talking to you, I mustn’t monopolise you any longer. I must just go and… do something over there.’
‘Well, this is fun,’ I said scooping up another two cocktails and moving to stand protectively next to Diana. ‘I’ve brought this for you.’
She stepped away from the flowers and took the glass. The drink was pale green and was garnished with a sparkly stick and a cherry.
‘You’ve been ages,’ I said. ‘I’ve been talking to the first officer. He’s quite delightful. His name is Charles, and he recently moved to live in an apartment in Nantes, and he has a dog called Chic.’
‘You wouldn’t want to yell that out across a field, would you,’ Diana laughed.
‘You should have heard the conversation I had with him when I got the wrong idea about that. His wife left him for their gardener. He says it’s because he was at sea for too long and she got agitée, which I think means restless. Did you get agitée? When Casper was away?’
Diana looked thoughtful. ‘No, not really. I look back now, and if I’m honest life was much simpler when it was just me and Sam. That sounds awful. I mean, yes I missed Casper, of course I did. And then Sam went away to boarding school and Casper wanted me to give up teaching and we did so much travelling all the time.’
‘Did you regret it?’ I asked.
‘I don’t know,’ she said after a few moments, ‘it seemed the best thing to do at the time.’
‘And what do you think now?’
‘I think, perhaps, with the benefit of hindsight…’
She bit her lip and looked down at her drink. I could almost sense the conflict in her mind. When we were younger, she’d never been able to hide anything from me. I always knew when she was worried about something or having problems. When did that ability, that connection desert me? How could my sister, my best friend in the world have been unhappy and I hadn’t properly realised it? Perhaps I had been distracted by my own life. Maybe I had been taken in by their apparently gilded, exotic lifestyle where foreign travel had been an everyday experience. As familiar to them as me going to the supermarket. Where travel programmes we watched together inevitably prompted her to say ‘been there’ at some point. Had that made me envious? Was that why I ignored the truth? What did that say about me?
I followed her towards some comfortable-looking chairs, and we sat down, glad to take the weight off our unfamiliar high heels.
‘Anyway, how do you get that sort of personal information out of someone in five minutes of knowing them?’ Diana asked.
‘I ask. People love talking about themselves, especially men,’ I said, ‘and then I embarrassed myself asking about poo bags – oh never mind. What have you been up to?’
‘Raphaël asked me to have dinner with him. But I’m sure you know that already.’
I put on a surprised expression and patted her on the knee. ‘Excellent, I hope you said yes?’
‘Of course I didn’t!’ she said, blushing.
‘Whyever not? Oh hello, incoming. Someone has spotted you, brace yourself,’ I said, looking over the rim of my glass.
‘Mrs Wedderburn! There you are! Bless your heart. Now I have a proposal for you. A decent one, honestly.’
It was Dick Dainty, his evening suit as shiny as his hair.
He tweaked at his bow tie for a moment and then sat down in a chair next to Diana.
‘I hope the captain had a word with you? He certainly had a word with me, and I’ll be in big trouble if you say no! The sort of trouble that comes rolling down the hill towards you. Like that cheese race in Gloucestershire.’
He widened his eyes and pulled a terrified expression, as though he faced the prospect of being keel hauled.
‘The interview on Dick’s Diary?’ she said.