Day Four Page 9

  ‘Hi.’

  ‘This is Maddie, babe,’ Ray smirked. ‘We work together.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’ The woman yawned and unpeeled her arms. ‘Gotta have a shower.’

  Ray winked at Maddie. ‘I’ll join you in a second.’

  The woman giggled again and disappeared into the bathroom.

  Maddie gave Ray a look. ‘You’ve been busy.’

  Ray shrugged, smirk still in place. ‘Decided to have my own party, seeing as you didn’t take me up on my invite. We met at the muster station. Hey, where were you, anyway?’

  ‘Nice of you to notice.’ And thinking about it, it was nice of Foveros to notice. She didn’t recall any of the staff doing a head count. ‘I was with Celine. Our boss, remember? She . . . something happened to her last night.’

  ‘Oh yeah? What?’ He scratched his stomach and shifted his position, allowing Maddie space to view the interior. The floor was an apocalypse of beer cans and plates smeared with sauce the colour of dried blood.

  ‘Have you seen Celine this morning?’

  ‘What does it look like? Like you pointed out, I’ve been busy.’

  ‘I need to find her.’

  ‘Good luck.’

  ‘You’re not going to help me?’

  ‘How hard can it be? You’re on a ship. She’s in a wheelchair.’

  ‘It’s your job, Ray. I hardly slept last night.’

  ‘Makes two of us.’

  ‘Fine. You know what? Forget it. Thanks for nothing.’

  ‘Listen, Maddie. You know what? You can shove your bullshit.’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘I’m sick of you sneering at me, looking down at me.’ This was a side to Ray she hadn’t seen before.

  ‘Fine. Whatever.’

  ‘You think you’re so superior, don’t you? Well, babe, let me put you straight on that. You’re just some stuck-up Brit with a chip on her shoulder. You know what you need, don’t you? A good fu—’

  The rage was instant and overwhelming. Maddie thrust both palms into his chest. ‘I’ll tell you what I need, you bastard, you out of my fucking face.’ Flecks of her spittle peppered his face. His shocked expression turned to amusement, incensing her even more.

  He held up his hands. ‘Yo. Easy there, tiger. I was only kidding around.’

  ‘Fuck you.’ She whirled and ran towards the stairwell, shaky, a roaring in her ears. Sod going to her cabin to collect her belongings; she couldn’t face that now. She clung to the handrail. Bloody bloody Ray. She couldn’t let him get to her. She paused to get her bearings – she’d need to head back up to the atrium to cut down to the medical bay. She’d barely made it up one flight when a man came sprinting down past her, his hand clamped over his mouth as if he was about to vomit.

  Jesus. Oh God. Maddie crossed her arms under her armpits and ran, desperate to reach fresh air. Her scalp was tingling, her palms were beginning to sweat and she could feel her throat closing. She stumbled over to the atrium balcony, and tried to slow her heart, which felt like it was attempting to force its way out of her mouth. The floor beneath her pitched, and her guts rolled lazily.

  ‘Maddie?’ She looked up, and saw Eleanor, one of the Friends, bearing down on her. ‘Are you okay?’

  Maddie couldn’t speak at first. Jesus.

  ‘C’mon, come and sit down.’ Eleanor rubbed her back.

  ‘I’m fine. Just . . . I’m fine.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Eleanor was one of the pet fanatics; desperate to get in touch with the spirit of her dog. Maddie dredged her memory for its name – Denny or Dirk or something; a name that sounded like it should belong to a porn star. ‘Can I get you some water? It’s awful close in here, isn’t it?’

  ‘I’m fine.’ Saying the words seemed to help. The pinprick in her throat widened. ‘Thank you, Eleanor. I just felt a bit dizzy for a second there.’

  ‘I’m not surprised. You’re too thin, Maddie. Have you had breakfast yet?’

  ‘No.’ And she’d missed dinner last night – hadn’t ordered that toasted cheese after all.

  ‘I’ve been looking for Celine.’

  ‘Well honey, she’s in the Starlight Dreamer Lounge.’

  ‘Huh?’ That couldn’t be right. ‘What the . . . what’s she doing there?’

  ‘Well, I tell you, this morning I was up early, went to the buffet to see if I could get myself some granola – I slept so badly last night with all that’s going on, despite Damien telling us all there’s nothing to worry about – and I saw her on the Lido deck. She asked me to gather all the Friends together.’

  ‘Celine did what?’

  ‘Bless her heart. She’s been with us for two hours now, really making us feel comfortable. Quite a few of the Friends were really worried, specially the ones who have flights today, but Celine told them all would be just super. I was on my way back to my cabin to take my vitamins, but that can wait. You want me to take you to her?’

  ‘I can manage.’

  Eleanor tsked. ‘I’m not leaving you alone in this state.’

  She hooked a plump arm through Maddie’s, bathing her in the scent of Lily of the Valley.

  ‘How did Celine get down there?’

  ‘Why, she walked of course. She took her time, but she said she felt up to it.’

  ‘And her wheelchair?’

  ‘Oh, Jacob and Jimmy helped with that.’ Maddie let Eleanor lead her past the deserted casino and along the passageway towards the entrance to the lounge. A small group of Friends were gathered outside it, and Jacob came scurrying up to them, dressed in a lavender waistcoat, pink tie and a pinstriped shirt.

  ‘Maddie’s not feeling well, Jacob,’ Eleanor said, releasing Maddie and patting her arm.

  ‘Oh, you poor thing. Well you’ve come to the right place. We’ll look after you.’

  Maddie did her best to smile. She tended to think of the Friends as losers – human jigsaw puzzles missing a crucial piece of blue sky – but here they were, propping her up.

  ‘I was just telling Maddie how wonderful Celine’s being to us,’ Eleanor said.

  Jacob nodded enthusiastically. ‘Oh yes. Celine and Archie. Archie’s been very vocal today. Celine says that Spirit wants us to know that we need to take all this in our stride.’

  ‘Jacob,’ Eleanor said, ‘tell Maddie what Archie said to you about Kathy.’

  ‘Kathy?’ Maddie asked.

  ‘His sister. You remember, Maddie. She stepped forward last night – she went missing at Thanksgiving.’

  Of course. How could Maddie have forgotten that? She’d been the one who’d passed on the details to Celine after Jacob had confided them to her during their first meet ’n’ greet. Another jab of shame.

  A faraway look came into Jacob’s eyes. ‘She came forward with Archie this time. He said she was wearing her favourite white dress and she wanted me to know exactly what had happened to her.’ Maddie’s fingers were tingling again, and she dug her nails into her palms. ‘Archie told me the whole story. Kathy ran away to San Francisco, lived there for a while, but fell in with a bad crowd.’ His voice thickened. ‘She died alone in a boarded-up apartment, a year after she left us, from a drug overdose.’

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Maddie said. What the hell was Celine playing at? She dealt in hope, not despair.

  ‘Don’t be sorry. I wanted to know, I needed to know. Kathy’s waiting for me to join her. She’ll be there at the moment I cross over into the next world.’

  ‘So inspiring,’ Eleanor breathed.

  The glass doors were wedged open just enough for Eleanor to squeeze through – anyone larger would have a problem – and Maddie followed her into the lounge’s shadowy depths. Annabeth and Jimmy, one of the few couples who’d signed up to Cruise with Celine, clucked around her. Maddie murmured a vague greeting and approached the stage, where Celine was deep in conversation with Leila.

  Celine looked up and caught her eye. ‘Thank you, my darling,’ Celine said to Leila. ‘Madeleine needs me now.’

>   Without a murmur and only the slightest smile in Maddie’s direction, Leila drifted away as if pulled by an invisible string. Maddie clambered onto the stage.

  Celine cocked her head on one side and assessed her. ‘You look tired, Madeleine. Didn’t you sleep well? You were sleeping like the dead when I left this morning.’

  ‘Yeah, about that. Why didn’t you wake me?’

  ‘You needed to rest.’

  ‘How are you feeling, Celine? Should you really be doing this?’ Whatever the hell this was. It wasn’t right – Celine had spent the entire cruise dodging the Friends, and now here she was, their new best friend.

  ‘I’m feeling wonderful. Just wonderful. Like a new person.’

  Maddie had to admit she did look better than she had for months. Her make-up wasn’t as garish as usual, which made her look younger, less jaded. ‘Jacob and Eleanor said you asked them to bring all the Friends here this morning. What are you playing at?’

  ‘People are worried, Madeleine. We must all do our part.’

  ‘Okay. Can the real Celine please come back now?’

  ‘Oh she’s around. She’ll show herself soon enough. And know this, I plan to help as many people as I can.’

  ‘What do you mean by “help”?’

  ‘People need to be shown the way, Maddie. They need guidance. I’m here to provide them with a helping hand. Me and Spirit, of course.’

  ‘Tell me you’re taking the piss, Celine.’

  Celine took her hand. Her boss’s fingers were icy, although the lounge, like the rest of the ship, was stultifying. ‘Where’s Ray?’

  ‘In his cabin.’

  ‘Well, he’ll show up soon enough. They all will if they know what’s good for them.’ Celine winked at her. ‘Go grab a pew. Watch the show. Think you’re gonna enjoy it.’

  ‘I don’t think you should be doing this, Celine.’

  ‘My darling, this is what I was born to do.’

  ‘Last night—’

  ‘Go on and sit down, Maddie,’ Celine said, her voice turning from honeyed to brittle, which was reassuring. Maddie could cope with irritable Celine. ‘You don’t want to make a scene, do you?’

  ‘Celine, please tell me what you’re—’

  ‘Enough. Go on, now.’

  Maddie didn’t have the strength to argue. Celine had to be playing this part for reasons of her own. Perhaps it had something to do with the blogger’s accusations last night. Perhaps she was hoping that the Friends would flock to her defence when Xavier (or whatever his real name was) vomited the clip all over the networks. Perhaps something had snapped in her mind, uncovering a new altruistic side.

  Maddie made her way over to a booth at the edge of the room. She spotted the technical guy – the kid Celine had sniped at last night – lost in conversation with Juanita, who gave Maddie a little collusive wave. She slumped onto the seat, the headache now pulsating in her temples, and waited. A hush fell over the Starlight Dreamer Lounge as Celine wheeled herself across the stage, and Maddie couldn’t shake the feeling that she was about to watch a deranged, wheel-chaired prophet addressing her acolytes.

  The Condemned Man

  Gary lay as still as he could, watching the sweat beading the hairs on his belly. Marilyn had left the stateroom an hour ago, complaining that she couldn’t breathe. He was planning to hole up in the cabin until they fixed the problem, but without the air-con, it was fast becoming a sauna. The heat and his low blood sugar were making him nauseous; he wouldn’t be able to stay down here much longer in any comfort. And sleep was out of the question. Unable to staunch the running dialogue in his head, he hadn’t done much more than doze since he and Marilyn had returned from the muster station last night. At least he’d emerged from that unscathed. He’d been on continual high alert, twitching every time a security guard or a crew member walked by, but Marilyn hadn’t commented on his behaviour. He supposed he could thank her cruise buddies for that. They’d monopolised her attention, providing a non-stop stream of unasked-for commentary about the state of the Minnesota housing market, leaving him free to lurk in a darkened corner, attempting to be as unobtrusive as possible.

  They would have come for you by now if they were going to. Relax.

  But what about the ‘don’t disturb’ sign? What if they’ve got that?

  What if they have? Even if they do test it for fingerprints, yours aren’t on file anywhere.

  When we get back to port they might take everyone’s fingerprints.

  So what if they do? It’s purely circumstantial. They’ve got other things to worry about. You’re home free. You’re over the worst of it.

  The footage – they might recognise me.

  No chance.

  Really? What about last night? How will I explain walking to her cabin?

  You were in shock, disorientated by the ship’s sudden stop.

  And DNA. My DNA will be all over her stateroom.

  They’re not going to test everyone on board.

  You don’t know that for sure.

  They’ll want to keep it quiet. You know the drill. By now they’ve convinced themselves that she died of alcohol poisoning. Why else aren’t they interrogating the crew and passengers?

  He had to believe that.

  He sat up, and hobbled into the bathroom, slightly thrown by the fact that the ship was now listing to the left. He adjusted his balance and tried not to look at the clothes he’d left lying in the stall last night, which Marilyn had hung on a line in the shower. The water spattered out of the tap, and he splashed it over his cheeks. He decided not to bother shaving – anything he could do to change his appearance would help. He sprayed himself with deodorant, slipped on a fresh shirt and pair of shorts, and made his way out of the cabin and towards the stairwell. A crew member polishing the handrails eyed him warily as he passed, stumbling as the listing floor unbalanced him. He cut through the atrium, pushing through a clump of angry people who were waiting for their turn to shout at the Guest Services staff. The woman at the front of the line was yelling: ‘My dogs are in kennels. Kennels! I was supposed to fetch them today!’

  A wall of noise hit him as he stepped out onto the Lido deck. The place was heaving with people, every sun-lounger taken up. The light stung his eyes, and framed by the railings, the ocean undulated sluggishly.

  ‘They’ll come soon,’ a middle-aged man was saying to a group of women who were gathered round him, slathering each other in sun cream. He stepped over the outstretched legs of a passenger fanning herself with a copy of Damien’s daily entertainment bulletin, and scanned the area for Marilyn.

  ‘Gary!’ He craned his neck, and spotted her next to the entrance of the indoor buffet seating area, waving her arms over her head. ‘Gary! Over here, hon!’ As he made his way towards her, people turned to look at him, and he coloured and kept his head lowered. She was sitting at a table with a couple who were flashier and younger than last night’s pair. No surprise there; he’d expected that Marilyn would have moved onto fresher pastures.

  ‘Hey, hon,’ Marilyn said. ‘This is Samantha and Mason Patchulik.’

  The guy – late twenties, flinty eyes, crewcut, scorched scalp – nodded at him. ‘Some vacation, huh?’

  ‘You gotta see it as an adventure, baby,’ the woman – Samantha – crooned, crossing her legs and giving Gary a calculated smile. Fake breasts, fake hair, bleached teeth. A manufactured woman. Not Gary’s type. ‘Just wish I could tell my folks what’s going on. You think Foveros will have let everyone know? They’ll be leaving to fetch us from the airport in an hour.’

  Gary looked around for an empty chair, but they were all taken. He had no choice but to stand awkwardly next to the table.

  ‘Samantha and Mason are from Michigan,’ Marilyn said, oblivious to his discomfort.

  ‘Oh really? That’s nice.’

  Mason shook his head as if Gary had said something woefully stupid. ‘You think? Been freezing our asses off back home. Thought we’d get some sun, booked at the
last minute, got a good deal, but look what else we got. Stranded. Gonna miss our flight. They’d better fly us home business class now to make up for this. Or at the very least give us a comp cruise.’

  Marilyn’s eyes lit up. ‘Oh, I didn’t think of that. You think they’d do that?’

  ‘If they don’t want their asses sued, they will. Gonna get them for missed earnings as well.’

  Good luck with that, Gary thought. He’d read the contract when he booked; he read it carefully every year, and he knew Foveros had its ass well and truly covered. The company could practically sell the passengers to Somalian pirates and the consumer wouldn’t have a case.

  ‘So, Gary,’ Mason continued. ‘Marilyn says you’re a teacher, huh?’

  ‘I am, yes.’

  ‘High school?’

  ‘Middle grade.’

  ‘Those who can’t do, teach, am I right?’

  Gary managed a rigid smile. ‘Something like that.’

  ‘Hey, don’t mind me. I’m just messing with you. I’m in construction.’

  ‘He has his own business,’ Samantha preened, rubbing his thigh.

  ‘Yeah. Started my own business. Own boss. Get to make my own hours.’ Mason was clearly one of those guys who had to one-up everyone – Gary knew the type. He saw fledgling Masons in the schoolyard every day. He’d never been one of them – or one of their victims, for that matter. He knew how to keep his head down, disappear, blend into the background. He was practised at avoiding the staffroom dramas and the occasional parental gripes at work. And he knew what his students thought of him: Mr Johansson, the world’s most boring teacher. He rarely had trouble in his classes; got the impression the students didn’t see the point. They’d figured out that he was just going through the motions.

  He glanced around, looking for anyone from his girl’s group. It was possible they were hunkering beneath one of the sheets that several people were attaching to the railings as sunshields.

  ‘You seen what they’re putting on for breakfast?’ Marilyn said to no one in particular. ‘Sandwiches!’

  ‘I know, right?’ Samantha gasped. ‘I asked one of the guys serving and he said there wasn’t much they could do as there was no electricity.’