Page 31 of The Cruise

Kath lay in the tub in their bathroom and swished at scented bubbles that rose to the edge, almost spilling onto the tiled floor. She’d never known such luxury. The dated family bathroom in Garstang seemed light-years away, as did the avocado-coloured ensuite in the Bournemouth hotel where she’d spent many holidays with Jim. On theDiamond Star, no spiders crawled into a cracked cornice, nor was there blackened grouting and the paper-thin towels that had, over the years, seen service to countless visitors at the Sunnyside Hotel.

She wondered why she hadn’t insisted that they holiday somewhere more up-market but knew that any reasoning with Jim had been pointless. Much of their money had gone when Hugh and Harry both married. Their savings were swallowed up when they’d generously given their sons sizeable deposits to enable them to take out small mortgages. Kath had insisted that they should have the best start to married life, and, to her surprise, Jim had agreed.

But that was several years ago, and Jim’s meanness became his obsession as time passed. He said they couldn’t afford luxuries or fancy holidays. It was the accountant in him, Kath reminded herself as she idly toyed with the bubbles in her bath. Anyone would have thought they were as poor as church mice, when in fact, as she’d recently discovered, quite the opposite was true.

Kath’s salary had been paid into her own account, and she’d been responsible for the housekeeping and utility bills that took every penny she earned. Jim paid the mortgage from his account. After Jim’s death, Kath discovered that the mortgage had been paid off years ago, and his savings had accumulated considerably. She liked to think that Jim had been saving to take her on a world cruise for their ruby wedding anniversary or, she fantasised, a month in the Maldives. They might have stayed in a luxurious wooden bungalow beside a tropical beach. Still, Kath knew that would never have happened.

A leopard doesn’t change his spots.

But Jim hadn’t known that he would pop his clogs before his time, and his accidental death was an unexpected shock to everyone. Especially Mr Clarke, Jim’s golfing companion, of Clarke & Co. Family Solicitors of Garstang, who couldn’t understand why Jim hadn’t updated his will. Not that Kath gave a hoot. With no instructions, Jim’s estate had all come to her, including unexpected life insurance. Now, she had more money than she could ever imagine. Hugh and Harry had naturally contested the will, and Kath parted with an amount to stave off their persistent demands. She told them she’d review things when she returned from her holiday, but in truth, she had no intention of financing or being bullied into signing the house over to her money-grabbing sons.

‘What the hell, it’s my time now,’ Kath said, splashing bubbles into the air. ‘I’m going to spend the money,’ she called out to the ghost of her husband. ‘All those years of frugality and counting every penny are over.’

Adding more water to the bath, Kath thought about the cruise. It would have been unimaginable months ago to contemplate such indulgence. Hugh and Harry would be goggle-eyed at the display of newly purchased potions and creams on Kath’s side of the bathroom shelf.

Kath had never heard of the La Prairie brand and always bought her face cream from Aldi. She thought a prairie was a grassland area in the Rocky Mountains where cowboys and buffalos roamed. But she’d discovered skin caviar in the duty-free shop when the fancy packaging had caught her eye. The sales assistant, alert to a substantial sale, explained that the cream would restore the harmony of Kath’s youth by ‘strengthening and re-densifying her skin’s vertical pillars’. At a cost that made her eyes water, Kath fully expected her pillars to be time-warped back to her youth within minutes of application. She intended to liberally apply the cream as soon as she eased herself out of this beautiful bath.

Kath stretched out her toes to the gold-coloured tap. She reached for the Jo Malone bath oil that the assistant had assured her would soften and nourish tired skin, and the scent of sweet almond, jojoba seed, and avocado was intoxicating. Yawning, Kath stared at the ceiling, where soft lighting gave a flattering glow and made her feel years younger. She caressed her arms, noting only faint age spots on the delicate skin.

There were no fading bruises to cover with cardigans and no aching muscles recovering from punches. Blows that had been dealt out for the slightest wrong. Jim had been a large man. Though fleshy in parts, he was solid and able.

Able to abuse his wife.

Kath thought of all those fearful years keeping their life hidden behind closed doors and the pretence in front of her children and friends. The hidden bruises. The broken wrist she explained away as a ‘gardening fall’. Her false smile at the golf club garden party and Jim’s Christmas office event. Wearing long-sleeved dresses with high collars and flowing hems to cover her injuries, Kath would hand out Christmas gifts to his staff, all bought with her own money.

The smokescreen for a life well lived.

Hugh and Harry hadn’t a clue. They’d been financed through university and gap years and, taking after their father, both worked at large accountancy firms. Kath wondered if they took after their father in other ways too.

With a sigh, she felt the water cooling and sat up. She could hear voices. Anne and Jane had returned.

‘Anyone home?’ Anne called out and opened the bathroom door.

Jane stepped in and reached for a fluffy towel. ‘She’ll be a wrinkled prune after all this time,’ and went to help Kath heave herself up.

‘Not for much longer,’ Kath replied and picked up a pot of caviar cream. ‘You can both keep your paws off, this is my treat.’

‘You deserve it.’ Anne studied her face in the mirror. ‘Doesn’t she, Jane?’

‘Absolutely, it’s good to see Kath enjoy a bit of luxury.’

Kath picked up her glasses, stared at her reflection, and then smoothed the cream over her pale skin. There was a fortune on her face. She dipped her fingers into the pot and slathered more onto her neck. She could almost hear Jim’s protestations and see his arm raise, about to strike.

But the cowering Kath was gone.

Standing tall and defiant, she silently thanked her pig of a husband for his untimely death. Wherever he was, she hoped that he was watching her now.

ChapterFifteen

The following morning theDiamond Starmade its way to Saint Vincent, the largest of the Grenadines and the gateway for visitors to the chain of small islands which lay one hundred miles west of Barbados. As the sun came up those who’d risen early to witness the arrival were greeted by long stretches of beach under a fire-red sky.

‘The sky is the colour of rhubarb,’ Kath said as she stood on deck and gazed in awe as pinks and golds melted into soft molten rays. ‘It reminds me of my vegetable patch at home.’

‘I’m not sure that Kath Taylor’s rhubarb triangle compares to a Caribbean sunrise.’ Jane smiled. ‘Although your crumble is the best I’ve ever tasted.’

Leaning on the railings, they watched with interest as the ship was guided by the harbour master’s boat. Crew members below busied themselves in preparation for docking at the southern end of Kingstown, the island’s capital.

‘I noticed that the sand was very black as we approached. Do you think it’s like that on all the beaches?’ Jane asked as Kingstown came into view.

---