Read All by Myself, Alone Page 6


  “Well, I saw her go over to another table and start kissing the people at it. I thought that as Lady Haywood’s guest, it was very rude to leave ahead of her.”

  “I suppose so,” Willy agreed. “But it doesn’t matter. Does it?”

  “Something else, Willy. I like to consider myself a student of human nature. My guess is that there is no love lost between Roger and Yvonne Pearson. Even though we were at the next table, I could see that they were ignoring each other.

  “But you know who I think is charming? That nice young man, Ted Cavanaugh. And I am so sorry for that beautiful girl Celia Kilbride. To think of what that snake of a fiancé did to her. By the way, Ted was not wearing a wedding ring. At the table I was glancing between him and Celia Kilbride. I was thinking what a good-looking couple they would make. And what gorgeous children they would have.”

  Willy smiled.

  “I know what you’re going to say, Willy. ‘Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match.’ And Willy, did you notice the other woman at Lady Em’s table? I mean Brenda Martin, Lady Em’s companion. She’s kind of a big lady, with short, gray hair.”

  “Oh, sure, I noticed her,” Willy agreed. “She’s no beauty.”

  “You’re right about that. Poor thing. But I fell in step with her when I was taking a walk this morning when you were doing the crossword puzzle. Anyway, we started chatting. At first she didn’t say much, but then she began to open up. She told me that she’s been working for Lady Em for twenty years and goes all over the world with her. I said, ‘That must be fascinating.’ Then she laughed and said, ‘Fascination wears thin,’ and she told me that they had just come back from spending the summer in East Hampton.”

  “Well, you sure got all of them down pat,” Willy observed as he drew in a deep breath. “I love the smell of the ocean. Remember how we used to go down to Rockaway Beach on Sundays during the summer?”

  “I do. And you can bet there isn’t a finer beach, including the Hamptons. Anyway the traffic in the Hamptons is terrible, but I still like those bed-and-breakfasts we’ve stayed at out there. Brenda told me that Lady Em has a mansion in the Hamptons.”

  “Is there anything Brenda didn’t tell you?” Willy asked.

  “No, that was it. Oh, yes. When I said, ‘Brenda, you must love staying at a mansion,’ her answer was ‘I’m bored stiff.’ Isn’t that a funny thing to say about your employer?” Alvirah shook her head. “Willy, reading between the lines, I get the feeling that Brenda is sick of being at Lady Em’s beck and call. I mean she made remarks like ‘Lady Em is reading a book and told me I could take a walk for an hour. Precisely one hour.’ Doesn’t that sound to you as if Brenda is on call 24/7 and doesn’t like it a bit?”

  “It sounds like it,” Willy agreed. He added, “I wouldn’t like it either. On the other hand, why would Brenda change jobs at this stage of the game? Lady Em is eighty-six years old, and not too many people live a heck of a lot longer than that.”

  “Oh, I agree,” Alvirah said quickly. “But I do get the impression that Brenda Martin is really fed up with Lady Em. I mean in a really serious way.”

  23

  Celia did not go down to dinner. She spent the rest of the afternoon reading in a lounge chair on her private balcony.

  On the one hand it was a good way to unwind after her lecture; on the other it was hard to get into a book. Her concentration was constantly interrupted by the same thought. Suppose the U.S. Attorney’s Office decides to indict me after all? I don’t have any money to keep paying a lawyer.

  The management at Carruthers had been sympathetic until now, but when the article in People comes out, it is likely that they will fire her, or at least ask her to take an unpaid leave of absence.

  At six o’clock she ordered dinner, a salad and salmon. Simple as it was, she could not finish it. When she had come back to the suite, she had changed into slacks and a shirt, but now she decided to put on pajamas and go to bed. Suddenly very tired, she remembered that she had not slept at all the previous night.

  Before the butler came in to turn down the bed, she put a QUIET PLEASE sign on the doorknob. I guess that sounds friendlier than DO NOT DISTURB, she thought wryly.

  She fell asleep immediately.

  24

  The formal dress code for dinner was in effect, so the men were in black tie and the women in cocktail dresses or gowns. The talk at Alvirah and Willy’s table was of the three lectures and how entertaining they had been.

  A few feet away Lady Em waxed eloquent on Sir Richard’s ancestral home. “It was quite splendid,” she said. “Think of Downton Abbey. Of course, after World War I, things became simplified. But my husband told me that in his father’s time, there was a full staff of twenty servants.

  “Everyone dressed for dinner. And on weekends the house was always filled with guests. A number of times ‘Prince Bertie,’ as he was known, attended. As everyone knows, after King Edward VIII gave up the crown, Bertie became King George VI, Queen Elizabeth’s father.”

  Of course he did, Yvonne thought, but managed to keep an attentive smile on her face.

  After dinner Lady Em decided to go directly to her suite. But when Roger offered her his arm, she said, “Roger, I would like to have a quiet meeting with you tomorrow morning at eleven o’clock in my suite. Come alone.”

  “As you wish, Lady Em,” Roger agreed. “Is there anything special we need to discuss?”

  “Why don’t we talk about it in the morning?” she suggested.

  When he left her at the door, she did not realize how her casual request had so deeply troubled Roger.

  25

  At the end of dinner Devon Michaelson had decided that it would be a good idea to cement his identity in the eyes of his tablemates, Ted Cavanaugh, the Meehans, and Anna DeMille—namely that he was a widower traveling on the ship with the sole purpose of scattering his late wife’s ashes into the ocean.

  “I have decided to drop them from the uppermost deck at eight a.m. tomorrow morning,” he announced. “In thinking about it, I decided I would like to share the ceremony with all of you. Alvirah and Willy, you are celebrating your forty-fifth wedding anniversary. Anna, you are celebrating winning the church raffle. Ted, I don’t know if you are celebrating anything, but you are also welcome to come. In my own way I am celebrating thirty years of happiness with my beloved Monica.”

  “Oh, I’ll be there,” Anna DeMille said fervently.

  “Of course we’ll be there,” Alvirah said gently.

  Devon turned his head as though he were blinking moisture from his eyes. Instead he was taking in the ruby-and-diamond necklace and matching earrings Lady Em had chosen to wear that evening.

  Very nice, he thought, very, very expensive, but nothing like the Cleopatra necklace.

  He turned his attention back to his own table. In a husky voice, he said, “Thank you. You are all very kind.”

  26

  Yvonne went straight to their suite as Roger escorted Lady Em to hers. When he entered, Yvonne was in a miserable mood. Dana and Valerie had left with other friends and had not invited her to join them.

  She sailed into Roger. “I can’t stand listening to that insufferable old witch for five more minutes. She doesn’t own you. Tell her you work for her Monday through Friday. Period.”

  Roger let her finish her tirade and then began shouting back. “You think I like having to kiss that old bag’s feet? I have to inflate every bill to keep you in the lifestyle you’ve managed to become accustomed to. You know that as well as I do.”

  Yvonne glared at him. “Will you please keep your voice down. They can hear you on the bridge.”

  “And you don’t think they can hear you?” Roger shot back, but he did lower his voice.

  “Roger, will you please tell me why you—” Then she noticed that he was sweating profusely and his complexion was a grayish pallor. “You look sick. What’s wrong with you?”

  “What’s wrong is that Lady Em wants to see me tomorrow morning alo
ne in her suite.”

  “So what?”

  “I think she suspects something.”

  “Suspects what?”

  “That I’ve been cooking her books for years.”

  “You what?”

  “You heard me.”

  Yvonne stared at him. “You’re serious?”

  “Oh, I am, my dear, I am.”

  “And if she does suspect, what would she do about it?”

  “Probably when she gets back to New York, hire another accounting firm to go over them.”

  “And what would that mean?”

  “Try twenty years in federal prison.”

  “You’re serious!”

  “Dead serious.”

  “Then what are you going to do about it?”

  “What are you suggesting, that I throw her overboard?”

  “If you don’t, I will.”

  They stared at each other, then Roger, his voice shaking, said, “It may come to that.”

  27

  Alvirah and Willy were passing Roger and Yvonne’s suite and could not help but hear that they were shouting at each other. Alvirah immediately stopped to catch every word. The last words she caught were “federal prison,” before another couple came down the hallway and she was forced to keep moving.

  The minute Willy closed the door of their suite she turned to him, “Willy, did you hear all that? They hate that poor old woman.”

  “I heard more than that. I think he’s stealing from her. The last words I heard were ‘twenty years in a federal prison.’ ”

  “Willy, I’m telling you, I think that they’re desperate. And I think that she’s even more desperate than he is. Do you think it is possible that either of them would try to hurt Lady Em?”

  28

  Professor Henry Longworth felt the tension at Lady Em’s dinner table and excused himself from having an after-dinner cocktail. Instead, he went straight to his suite and made some notes on his computer.

  It did not take him long. He wrote about the hostility lurking beneath the surface at the table and the furtive glances at Lady Em’s jewelry by someone at the next table. These facts would serve him well. Very interesting, he thought with a smile.

  Then for an hour he watched the news. Finally, before he went to bed, he thought about Celia Kilbride. The telephone call she had received in the cocktail lounge yesterday intrigued him enough to now search the Internet for information about her. What he found was a revelation. The beautiful young gemologist may or may not have been involved in a fraud, he read, although she had not been indicted.

  Who would have guessed? he asked himself, somewhat amused. On that thought, he decided to go to bed. For about half an hour he did not sleep. In his mind he was anticipating the Captain’s cocktail party. Would this be the occasion where Lady Em would wear her Cleopatra necklace, her priceless emerald necklace . . . ?

  29

  Captain Fairfax was in bed in his suite. A creature of habit, he knew that reading for twenty minutes before going to sleep relaxed him. He was moments away from turning off the reading lamp when his phone rang. It was the ship’s chief engineer.

  “Captain, we are experiencing some propulsion issues. They are minor and we are conducting tests on each of the engines. We expect to have the issue resolved over the next twenty-four hours.”

  “Was it necessary that the ship slow down?”

  “Yes, sir. But we can maintain a speed of twenty-five knots.”

  Fairfax began doing a calculation in his head. “Very well. Keep me posted,” he said as he hung up the phone.

  The Captain thought of the beehive of activity that awaited them at Southampton. A small army of cleaners would be standing ready to thoroughly clean the ship and make ready for the new passengers who would board. New provisions would be brought on and trash would be removed. All this would happen in the brief window between passengers disembarking in the midmorning and new guests coming aboard in the midafternoon. The process functioned like clockwork. But the clock had to start on time, with Queen Charlotte arriving by 6 A.M. in Southampton.

  We’ll be okay, he tried to assure himself. We can make up the time we will lose over the next twenty-four hours by going faster after the engine problem is resolved. We’ll be fine, as long as nothing else happens to delay our arrival.

  Day Three

  30

  Celia was surprised when she woke at 7:30 A.M., so early. What did you expect? she asked herself. You were in bed at eight-thirty last night so you’ve had eleven hours’ sleep. She still felt as if the weight of the world were on her shoulders. Oh, come on, she decided, get with it! Take a walk. Clear your brain.

  Acting on her decision, she dressed quickly in Lululemon and sneakers and went up to the promenade deck. She was surprised to see Willy and Alvirah standing there.

  She was about to pass them with a friendly wave, but Alvirah was having none of it. “Oh Celia,” she said, “I want to get to know you. I know you helped Willy pick out that beautiful sapphire ring for me. I’ve never had anything nicer.”

  “I’m so glad you like it,” Celia said sincerely. “Your husband was so hoping that you would.”

  “Oh, I know what you mean,” Alvirah said. “He was probably sure I would say it was too expensive. Did you know that Devon Michaelson is going to throw his wife’s ashes into the ocean? He asked the people at his table to join him for a little ceremony.”

  “Oh, then I’ll get going,” Celia said.

  But she was too late. Before she could resume walking, Michaelson had come up to them.

  “I told Celia why we’re here,” Alvirah said.

  Michaelson was holding the silver urn in both hands. “I’ve been intending to tell you how much I enjoyed your lecture, Miss Kilbride.”

  “It’s Celia. Thank you. This must be a difficult moment for you. When my father died two years ago, I took his ashes up to Cape Cod and gave them to the ocean as well.”

  “Were you alone?”

  “No, some close friends were with me.”

  “Then perhaps you will join me, along with my friends from the table?”

  Devon Michaelson’s expression was that of a man devastated. Celia felt a wrench of pity. “Of course, if you would like me to stay.”

  It was only a minute later that Ted Cavanaugh and Anna DeMille joined them.

  “Oh, it’s chilly,” DeMille said. “I should have worn a warmer jacket. But it doesn’t matter,” she added quickly. “We all want to be here with you, Devon.” She patted his shoulder with tears in her eyes.

  She’s trying to be the chief mourner, Alvirah thought. She glanced at Willy, who nodded to let her know that he was aware of what she was thinking.

  “I thank all of you for being with me today,” Devon began. “I want to spend a few moments telling you about Monica. We met in college in London thirty-five years ago. Some of you may understand what love at first sight is all about.”

  Alvirah glanced at Willy to signify, “We do.”

  Anna DeMille’s expression was focused adoringly on Devon Michaelson. He was saying, “I’m not a singer, but if I were, the song I would select would be Monica’s favorite, from the movie Titanic, ‘Nearer My God to Thee.’ ”

  “I couldn’t help but overhear as I was passing.” Chaplain Kenneth Baker had paused at the group. He looked at Devon. “May I bless the urn with your wife’s ashes?”

  Alvirah could see that Devon Michaelson’s expression was startled, his face crimson-red and his voice hesitant before he said, “Of course, Father, thank you.”

  In a low voice, Father Baker said the words of the Christian burial, finishing with, “May the angels receive you. Amen.”

  Before Devon could turn and lift the urn high to scatter the ashes into the sea, Alvirah could see how his face had become. It’s not that he’s sad, she thought. He’s embarrassed because Father Baker asked to bless the urn. The big question is, Why?

  They watched as Devon opened the urn and turned it
over. The ashes danced in the breeze before descending and disappearing into the swiftly moving wake.

  31

  Lady Em began choosing the jewelry she’d wear tonight to the Captain’s cocktail party.

  “I think I’m going to wear the Cleopatra necklace tonight,” she told Brenda. “I was planning to wear it for the first time to dinner with the Captain tomorrow night, but why not tonight as well? I’ve had it for fifty years and have never worn it in public.”

  Her eyes became dreamy as she remembered intimate dinners with Richard as he recounted the story about his father’s purchase of the necklace. She looked up at Brenda. “What do you think?”

  “Why not?” Brenda asked indifferently, then caught herself. “Oh, Lady Em, what I mean is that you have so few opportunities to wear it, why not display your necklace on several occasions on the ship, especially since, thanks to Celia Kilbride’s lecture, everyone will be fascinated to see it?”

  “And perhaps to see if the Cleopatra curse will be fulfilled in the next few days,” Lady Em observed dryly, then wondered why a chill went through her body.

  “Absolutely not,” Brenda said firmly. “I’ve been with you twenty years, Lady Em, and I never heard you say anything like that. And I have to tell you, I don’t like hearing you talk like that. I’ve never seen the Cleopatra necklace, but already I don’t like it.”

  “The only ones who have seen it in the last one hundred years are my husband, his father and I,” Lady Em said.

  Brenda had sounded so passionate and sincere in expressing her concern that Lady Em chided herself for her suspicion that there was something in her longtime assistant’s attitude that was anything but loyal. I’m so upset about the situation with Roger that maybe I have been brusque with her the last few days, she thought, and that certainly isn’t fair to her.