Page 72 of Old Girls on Deck

‘Douglas would have been ideal, he was very good with languages. He was quite fluent in Italian, French and American but then he’s not here. I just used to do what most British people did back in the day, speak slowly and loudly. Isn’t that awful? Golly he would have laughed to see me in this situation.’

Even she didn’t sound as though there was any humour in our predicament.

‘There are lots of restaurants and cafes in the rest of the town,’ Diana said, ‘perhaps we could find one and ask about a taxi there?’

‘A taxi to where?’ I said, ‘I can’t remember where the ship is going next. Only that it leaves the port at five o’clock.’

‘Messina in Sicily,’ Evelyn said, ‘next to the bottom of the boot that is Italy. It’s not that far as the crow flies, the ship was supposed to be arriving there tomorrow morning. Or it might have been this evening. I can’t remember. Anyway, I know there was a day in port.’

I imagined all the other passengers safely back on the ship, sitting in the bars and restaurants, looking forward to the show that evening, which was headlining Max Maestro, the Argentine ventriloquist, and felt slightly hysterical for a moment.

We walked slowly toward the exit, all of us feeling very deflated.

‘Ah, there you are, I was wondering when you would appear,’ said a voice.

And there, unfurling his height from a stone bench the other side of the gates was Raphaël. He gave us a broad grin and I don’t think any of us had ever been so pleased to see a friendly face.

Diana, rather surprisingly, ran towards him, and hugged him.

‘What are you doing here?’ she said. ‘We missed the coach. We don’t know how we are going to get back to the ship.’

‘Malheureusement – unfortunately you have missed the ship,’ he said cheerfully, looking at his watch. ‘I knew you weren’t on the coach and a couple of us went looking for you, but in the end the driver said he had to go, alors, I left a message for the captain to tell him what had happened. And I knew eventually you would appear. Are you alright?’

‘I feel such an idiot,’ Diana said.

‘And my feet hurt,’ Evelyn added. ‘I’ve twisted my ankle. Women always twist their ankles in films, don’t they? When they are running away from the aliens. It’s such a cliché, I feel very foolish.’

‘Viens, come with me,’ he said kindly, offering her a supportive arm, ‘we will find a solution.’

I was torn then between extreme relief that help was at hand and we weren’t going to face huddling up on a park bench somewhere, and mild irritation that we needed a man to help us out. But then would Evelyn using her tactic of speaking slowly and loudly and my very limited knowledge of Italian been up to sorting out this dilemma? I didn’t think so. I resolved that when I got back home, I would do a language course.

He tucked Evelyn’s handbag under his arm and she limped along quite happily at his side.

‘I have a friend locally, she used to be an entertainer on the ship; I have already rung her to explain the situation. I know she will help.’

‘I do hope you won’t get into trouble because of us,’ Evelyn said, sounding very worried. ‘They won’t keelhaul you for desertion or something?’

‘Reste calme – relax madame, they know what has happened. I am on a mission de sauvetage – a rescue mission.’

Diana rolled her eyes at me. ‘I can just imagine what they are saying: three silly old women getting lost.’

I hugged her. ‘It’s an adventure. We will laugh about this later.’

‘Will we?’ she said, looking doubtful. ‘I’m not sure we will.’

After about ten minutes we went into a small wine bar, which even in our distressed state looked very enticing, the amber fairy lights around the window gleaming out into the evening. Raphaël settled us at a table and brought us three small glasses of cognac.

‘For the shock,’ he said sympathetically.

Evelyn cheered up immediately. ‘Bottoms up!’

‘Well, this won’t touch the sides,’ I said, knocking it back and wincing as the liquid burned its fiery way down to my empty stomach.

He returned with an oval platter filled with crispy, triangular turnovers.

‘The chef has sent you some panzerotti. Little ham pastries. On the house. I have explained your situation and he was sure you must be hungry. It’s the Italian response to most dramas. Now I will call my friend Genova and tell her we are safe and sound.’

I felt quite tearful at that moment, that people could be so kind to strangers.