Page 9 of The Cruise

The vintage tin was worn, and Selwyn remembered Flo’s long fingers reaching to lift it from their kitchen cupboard, her hand an automated machine. The task of making cups of tea for the many sisters and brothers from the Baptist church in Lambeth was endless. Much to Selwyn’s frustration, worshippers had regularly assembled in his home. They chose to read passages from the bible and sing gospel songs when Selwyn wanted to listen to Bob Marley, whose sweet vocals were biblical to Selwyn and the only form of religion he wanted to practise.

‘Sleep soundly, Flo,’ he whispered, his fingers positioning the tin.

Selwyn sang as he stepped into the hallway and followed signs to guide him through the ship, stopping every now and again to familiarise himself with the surroundings. Taking the stairs to the main deck, he wandered through a lounge area where an elderly gentleman sat at one end of a bar. He wore deck shoes, shorts and a captain’s hat decorated with gold braid. His T-shirt bore the sloganLiving Life One Cruise At A Time.

‘Good afternoon, Captain,’ Selwyn said as he walked past.

The captain looked up. ‘Greetings!’ He raised a glass of whisky, wrapping knobbly, arthritic fingers tightly around the base. ‘Care to join me?’ Rheumy eyes focused on Selwyn. ‘You look like a man who’s travelled many a high sea.’ Wrinkled skin, as dry as parchment, trembled on the older man’s throat and reminded Selwyn of a turkey.

‘Maybe later, my friend.’ Selwyn affected a salute and moved away.

Passengers mingled in different areas of the ship as Selwyn strode through, smiling as he made his way. In the duty-free shop, he decided to buy something to read. Conscious of his single status, a book might be a valuable item to bury himself in should the need arise. As he browsed shelves filled with novels, Selwyn overheard a man talking to a female crew member who stood next to a point-of-sale area.

‘My book needs to be placed in a prominent position,’ the man instructed and reached into a box. ‘Passengers will queue up for these once they’ve seen my shows. It needs to be at the front of the shop.’

Intrigued, Selwyn turned to watch the man as he moved a display of Christmas shortbreads and began to stack a pile of books on the counter.

‘Mr Delaney…’ the woman began.

‘Call me Dicky, darlin’, let’s not be formal.’

Selwyn noticed the woman wince. She tucked a wayward strand of sleek blonde hair behind her ear. ‘My name is Diane, not “Darlin”,’ she said. ‘Diane Johns, to be precise and I am the manager of the shop.’

‘Diane, Darlin’, it’s all the same to me, I’m just being friendly.’ Dicky beamed.

‘I will place your merchandise where I deem suitable,’ Diane replied and pursed her lips, ‘and your commission will be paid on sales, at the end of the cruise.’ Ignoring the books, she rotated her slim body to block Dicky and examine goods on a shelf.

Dicky saw that Selwyn was watching.‘Stuck up madam,’Dicky whispered and rolled his eyes. ‘You all right there?’ he called out. ‘Don’t forget to come to my show tomorrow night, in the Neptune Lounge, after dinner.’

Selwyn nodded and watched the man walk away. He glanced at the book on top of the pile and read the title,Dicky Delaney – My Life in Show Business. The man was obviously an entertainer, and Selwyn studied the smiling face on the cover. ‘A comedian,’ he said out loud.

Diane swung around and stared at Selwyn. ‘Some people call him that.’ She cleared her throat and picked up a book. Narrowing her eyes, she paused as though considering where to place it.

‘I’ll take one of those,’ Selwyn said, reaching into his pocket.

‘I hope you enjoy it.’ Diane was polite as she took Selwyn’s payment. ‘You’ll see quite a lot of Dicky Delaney over the next two weeks.’

‘I’m looking forward to his show.’

Diane nodded and completed the purchase. ‘Enjoy your evening,’ she said.

Selwyn tucked the book under his arm and strolled out of the shop. As he continued to explore, he came to a foyer where a curved reception desk lined a long wall. Smiling staff assisted guests who queried dining times and shore excursions. Selwyn stepped forward, and a pretty girl looked up.

‘How may I help you?’ she asked. A badge pinned to her white blouse told Selwyn her name and that she was a customer service agent.

‘Good evening, Diwa,’ he began, ‘please direct me to the Terrace Restaurant. I’m dining there.’ Diwa gave clear instructions and explained to Selwyn that pre-dinner drinks were being served in the main hall.

Following her directions, he set off and soon found himself at the correct location. A server appeared and Selwyn accepted a colourful cocktail and took a sip. He licked his lips at the delicious flavour of rum and syrup combined with a hint of nutmeg. ‘Oh, that’s good.’ He sighed with pleasure and began to study the vestibule, where a giant Christmas tree dominated a central staircase. It was trimmed with bows of tartan ribbon and embellished with baubles and hundreds of twinkling lights.

‘Flo,’ Selwyn whispered as he observed the magnificent sight and looked heavenward. ‘This tree puts your Santa to shame.’ Selwyn remembered the tired old battery-operated Santa that stood on the mantel in their living room. His wife’s favourite festive adornment had been in the family since their children were small. As Selwyn stared at the tree, he knew that the raggedy dancing Santa wouldn’t see the light of day again.

A steel band began to play, and Selwyn’s face lit up as he recognised the tune.

Selwyn tapped his foot and swayed his hips as he stood under the glittering lights and watched with delight as guests assembled. Like him, they took note of the assorted gathering of passengers who would be their shipmates for the next two weeks. Taking another rum punch, Selwyn began to chat with a couple standing alongside. They introduced themselves as Harold and Nancy from Yorkshire and Selwyn replied without hesitation when Harold asked if he was looking forward to the cruise.

‘This is a holiday of a lifetime and I’m going to make the most of every moment.’ Selwyn’s smile came from deep inside like the petals of an unfolding flower, and he held up his glass. ‘Cheers,’ he said, ‘and happy holiday.’

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