Page 97 of Dancing Fools and All That Jazz
We start to clap. I whisper in Monica’s ear, ‘Her Royal Highness, Queen Frosty,’ but Fay hushes our applause with her hand and continues in earnest.
‘The river cruise, and wonderful food and drink is well above and beyond anything we had been expecting…’
Hazel is looking embarrassed and wags a finger to indicate Fay should stop.
‘…and I hardly need remind you Hazel’s extraordinary munificence in paying for us all to drink genuine French champagne…’
‘Fay, thank you, but please, no more. You’re all most welcome.’
Fay, with just a hint of an indignant frown, peters out. Her displeasure is short-lived as we all clap heartily and Bonnie shouts, ‘Well said, Fay.’
‘Absolutely. Thank you, Hazel.’
‘Yes, thank you.’
‘It was very nice meal.’
‘Hear, hear.’
Our boat will be mooring again soon, and Monica and I take our coffees out onto the deck to look at the Eiffel Tower – all lit up – looming large.
‘It’s magical, is it not?’
I lift my phone above my head and point it in all directions. ‘No flaming reception.’
‘Checking if Max has called?’
‘Yes. And no, he hasn’t. Damn. I’ve missed two calls from Will too.’
‘I would lend you my phone, but it is as dead as a dodo. Besides…’
‘…there’s no flaming reception,’ we say together.
‘Grrr. This is infuriating. I mean we’re in the middle of Paris for God’s sake.’
‘Mesdames et messieurs, nous sommes arrivés.’ The announcement prompts us to return to the dining room for our jackets so when the ship moors, we are ready to disembark.
‘Hazel has got the captain to order two large taxis to take us back to our hotels. They’re to be minivans that will fit in wheelchairs,’ Cath tells us.
This is a big relief; no one fancies navigating the Paris transport system at this time of night. We thank Hazel and I push her out to wait on the deck.
Every few seconds, I check my screen to see if I have any ‘Gs’. I look at the pedestrians strolling along the riverside. If only I could conjure up Max standing there waiting for me, contrite and eager to talk. Dream on, Ruby.
The boat docks and I ready myself to push Hazel along the gangplank. I balance the phone with one hand on the edge of the chair, glancing at the screen to see if any bars appear.
Monica goes in front to steady our descent and as I start to manoeuvre the chair over the small lip, someone barges into me from behind and my phone slips from between my hand and the chair and drops down into the river.
‘No!’ I screech as the handset hits the murky water, frothing and churning with the motion from the boat’s engine. It instantly disappears below the surface.
I turn to see who crashed into me just in time to see the smirking face of Swastika-man before he retreats into the boat.
‘Oh, Ruby. Your phone.’ Monica, one hand on Hazel’s wheelchair arm, leans over the gangplank and shakes her head. ‘It’s gone. What happened?’
‘That shit of a deckhand deliberately barged into me.’ I turn to go and give him a piece of my mind, but there are fifty or more passengers pressing into us to move forward and get off the boat. How the hell am I going to contact Will or Max now?
‘You bastard!’ I shout.
‘Ruby, have a little decorum please.’ Clarissa is right behind me. ‘You are representing Dance Excellence with Clarissa Kirkland.’ She points to the insignia on my top. ‘It is most unfortunate about your mobile phone, but I am sure that man only bumped into you due to the motion of the boat.’
