Page 36 of The Cruise Club

Sitting in a wheelchair, a woman insisted that a place be found beside an ornamental waterfall. Waiting staff busied around, moving tables and chairs to accommodate the noisy old lady. The man at her side thanked them and took a seat.

Ruskin sighed. Probably cruise passengers, he thought. Inhis opinion, some of the guests were pampered and spoiled, expecting everyone to bow to their demands.

Moments later, the couple were joined by a tall man and his partner, wearing matching polo shirts, Tilley hats and shorts. Ruskin heard the man say, ‘Ey up!’ as he sat down.

Ruskin sipped his wine, his thoughts returning to his detective.

‘Let me buy you a drink,’ a voice called out and Ruskin looked up to see Theo McCarthy towering over him. ‘That is if you’re tired of Alexander the Great, Hercules and the Persian Dynasty,’ Theo added. ‘Rhodes is full of history for your sleuthing mind.’

‘I’ll have a glass of this fine wine,’ Ruskin said, holding out his glass, ‘thank you.’

Theo sat down and ordered a carafe, then turning to Ruskin asked, ‘Are you on your own on this cruise?’

‘Yes, is there something wrong with that?’

‘Not at all, I’m alone too.’

Ruskin sniffed. ‘I’m very much single, having recently divorced and in no need of romantic liaisons, and in case you are wondering, I’m straight.’

‘I wasn’t, but don’t worry, I’m not trying to pick you up.’

Nearby, two women appeared, laden with shopping. ‘This is nice,’ Ruskin heard one announce. ‘Look who’s here,’ she continued, ‘fancy meeting up with Don and Debbie, and if I’m not mistaken, that’s the famous Mr Ruskin at the next table.’

Ruskin watched them deposit multiple bags.

‘Why don’t we all sit together,’ the woman said and, with a wide grin, waved at a waiter who soon rearranged chairs, grouping them around the tables.

‘Oh, Lord…’ Ruskin heaved a sigh. The last thing he wanted to do was make conversation, and to his horror, the dowdy bespectacled woman, in crumpled clothes, who kept appearing like a bad penny, was being placed on a seat beside him. She appeared to know Theo and smiled at him as she sat down.

Ruskin drained his glass and closed his notebook. His peaceful day had ended. When his phone began to ring, he felt relieved and staring at the screen, saw that it was Venetia. Ruskin was reluctant to speak to his ex-wife but knew that their conversation would distract him from the café crashers surrounding his table.

Replenishing his glass, Ruskin took the call.

Fran eyed Theo McCarthy sitting with Ruskin Reeve, and having arranged seating next to him, was determined to seize her opportunity and speak to the celebrated chef.

‘Mr McCarthy,’ she began, ‘we’re thrilled you’re on the cruise. My Sid here thinks you are amazing.’ She grabbed Sid’s hand and forced him to his feet. ‘He’s watched all your shows repeatedly and has collected all your cookery books.’

‘Please, call me Theo. I’m honoured that you’ve enjoyed my work.’ Theo reached out to shake Sid’s hand. ‘As it’s my round, why don’t you let me buy you all a drink?’

‘Mine’s a Santorini Sunset!’ Betty piped up.

Theo took note of their drinks and advised the waiter.

‘Cheers!’ they all said, chinking glasses when their drinks arrived.

Fran smiled as she watched everyone begin to chat. Sid had removed his cap and twisted it nervously between hisfingers. Speaking rapidly, he told Theo how he’d admired him for years and followed his career closely, while Don and Debbie described the delights of Mandraki Harbour to Carmen. Reading from a guidebook, Don explained that the Colossus of Rhodes, one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, had stood at the entrance, then he droned on about their visit to the Fort of St Nicholas, explaining at length that it was built in the fifteenth century to protect the island from attacks by the Ottomans.

Fran sipped a mocktail and turned to see Carmen beside Ruskin. Sitting rigid with nerves, Carmen bit on her lip and twisted a ring on her finger, clearly uncomfortable in the author’s company.

Ruskin, meanwhile, ignored Carmen and talked rapidly on his phone.

Whoever had made the call was in receipt of a telling-off. Ruskin’s face turned red with obvious frustration as he struggled to keep his voice down, draining his glass and drumming his fingers. Fran thought that he looked as though he’d sooner be somewhere else. She wondered if Ruskin would be so rude if a well turned-out woman sat beside him? He hadn’t noticed unfashionable Carmen nor passed a civil word.

Fran had enjoyed finding gorgeous outfits for Carmen, who, after her initial hesitation, soon got into the swing of things and swiped her credit card so hard that Fran thought it was probably on life support after the lavish spending spree. She’d purchased everything from gorgeous lingerie to daywear and glamorous evening dresses, but now, the carefree Carmen, with her lets-cripple-the-credit-cardmindset, was back in her shell, obviously intimidated by the man beside her.

Fran nodded as she thought of the many outfits she’d persuaded Carmen to buy. At that moment, Carmen might look like a dusty old book, sitting silently on her shelf, but once revamped, Fran was confident that Carmen’s story would emerge in glorious technicolour. She remembered the transformation as Carmen modelled the beautiful clothes. Beneath her drab and misshapen clothing, Carmen had a lovely figure and wore everything perfectly that Fran and a multitude of assistants had chosen.

Glancing at her watch, Fran realised that if they left soon, there was time for Carmen to have a couple of hours in the onboard beauty salon too.

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