Page 37 of The Cruise Club

She looked around at the group and wondered where the couple who liked pineapples were. Fran had chatted to them while shopping, when they’d met in a boutique. ‘Has anyone seen Colin and Neeta?’ she asked.

Theo was enjoying his conversation with Sid. It was cheering to be told you were someone’s hero, and Sid seemed like a sincere bloke. Theo was fascinated to hear that Sid had a fine dining restaurant in Blackpool with his wife, and Theo nodded his approval. If the couple had conquered northwest England with their culinary skills, they must be good. They chatted about the crowded restaurant scene and Theo rubbed his wrist, his fingers searching for the comfort of Ruari’s cuff bracelet, welcoming the smooth gold band that would warm to his touch.

But to his horror, the bracelet had gone!

For a split second, Theo was sure it was a trick of his imagination. Disbelief washed over him, and his heart missed a beat as he blindly ran his fingers up and down his arm. Scanning the floor, he hoped to see a flash of gold where the bracelet had fallen.

‘Are you all right?’ Sid asked. He noticed that perspiration had formed on Theo’s brow, and he was fumbling about beneath the table. ‘Have you lost something?’

‘M… my bracelet,’ Theo stammered.

‘What does it look like?’ Sid dropped to his knees.

‘It’s a cuff-like bracelet, gold and narrow.’

Theo stood as panic hit him like a punch. He wondered if he’d lost it as he wandered through Rhodes. Patting his pockets, he was relieved to find his wallet. If it was a thief, at least his cards and euros were safe.

‘I hope it’s not the cuff that Ruari gave you?’ Carmen joined the search, her expression almost as anxious as Theo’s.

‘Yes, it’s irreplaceable, so many memories, it’s s… so… sentimental.’ Theo looked as though he was about to burst into tears.

‘I’ll help you,’ Carmen announced. ‘Shall we retrace your steps?’

‘That’s a good idea,’ Sid agreed, ‘leave all your bags with Fran and me, and we’ll follow on.’

‘It’ll be in the safe in your cabin,’ Don joined in. Guzzling a cold beer, he added, ‘You’re as daft as Debbie. She’s always misplacing her valuables.’

Unaware that Debbie had swung a size eight trainer into Don’s shin, Theo was too upset to respond. His mind wasa whirl. When did the cuff slip off? Or, worst-case scenario, had it fallen into the sea when he leaned on the rail of his balcony watching dawn rise over the island? Taking Carmen’s arm, he set off as behind them, Sid piled a mound of bags onto Betty’s wheelchair.

‘Don’t worry about me!’ Betty’s muffled voice could be heard.

‘Rest assured, they won’t,’ Sid replied as Fran hooked more bags on the handles, and releasing the brake on Betty’s chair, Sid set off.

Ruskin ended his call and, ordering more wine, shook his aching head. Venetia was like a shadow that refused to fade, lingering in the corners of his life. Her relentless obsession with him was so demanding, and she didn’t seem to understand that their divorce was a reality, despite the papers being long signed and their lives severed.

And now… all this commotion over a bracelet!

Really!he thought. Panic over a piece of jewellery that probably had no value. But as he sipped his wine and watched Theo and the others leave the café, Ruskin breathed a sigh of relief. At least he didn’t have to converse with the dowdy woman, who’d deliberately sat beside him.

Chapter Sixteen

Dicky was in his dressing room. He sat in front of a large mirror where soft lights lined the metallic frame, designed to eliminate shadows and allow the artist a clear view from all angles. Every wrinkle and flaw stood out no matter how he turned from side to side or tilted his head.

Dicky shrugged. After a sleepless night and a full day entertaining the wealthy widow, he’d need more than a layer of concealer to ready himself for the evening performance. He poked about on Melody’s side of the table, picking up a Kryolan paint stick and a tube of MAC cosmetics.

‘Dermacolor Camouflage System,’ Dicky read from the side of the tube. ‘That’ll do nicely,’ he muttered, squeezing a hefty measure onto his fingers.

Smoothing it into his skin, he was pleased to see his lines fade. He knew this expensive product withstood harsh stage lights, and adding a touch of Studio Fix Foundation beneath each eye, sat back to re-examine his skin.Perfect!He was camera-ready and looked at least ten years younger.

Dicky was about to replace the caps on the tubes when thedoor burst open, and Melody strode in. She wore an emerald-green, shimmering silk cocktail dress with a glamorous auburn wig. Her complexion was as flawless as her figure.

Spreading his fingers, Dicky hastily covered the tubes.

‘No wonder they call you Tricky Dicky,’ Melody said as she stared at Dicky’s reflection, ‘you’ve got GUILT written all over your face.’

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Dicky shrugged.

‘Your foundation can be seen from space,’ she added, ‘there’s more life in Madame Tussauds. Surely, you’re not going on stage like that?’

---