Page 18 of The Situation Ship
“Return to our cabins? Maybe she heard the alarm and went back to the suite to look for us, but we missed each other,” Isaiah mused.
“I’ll cover A and B Deck; you take C and D,” Mina suggested. “I doubt she would go to any of the residential floors, so we can rule those out.”
“Okay. I’ll meet you back at Poppy’s suite,” Isaiah agreed, regretting that he hadn’t sneaked away when he had the chance. The lifts would be crowded with guests trying to return to theirrooms now. Thankfully, the map of the ship showed him a route through the glass stairways and gold-trimmed bridges, so he could move quickly without having to wait for lifts.
“Excuse me,but I’m looking for Ms Poppy Roe,” Isaiah said to the spa receptionist dressed in a crisp white uniform and laying out magazines on the polished reception desk. Her name tag read ‘Magda’.
He had already checked the cinema, the gyms, the theatre, and the virtual golf room. The only place left to look was the tranquillity spa. If he couldn’t find her and Mina returned alone, he would have to summon her over the intercom, which he doubted she would appreciate.
“We were wondering when you would find us. We tried calling Ms Roe’s suite, but we couldn’t reach anyone due to the drill,” Magda replied without looking up as she carried a tray full of sliced cucumber to a large water dispenser, adding it in. “Ms Roe is in the sea-salt pool room. We don’t open for another hour, so you should take her back to her room before the other guests arrive.”
“Why wasn’t she sent to the muster point with the other guests?” Isaiah asked, curious as to why they had broken protocol for her.
“We felt Ms Roe was too inebriated to be out on the deck, and the night manager let her stay since she was quiet and kept to herself. Given her recent loss, we thought discretion and space were best,” Magda whispered, even though no one else was around.
Isaiah noted how easily others talked about Poppy’s private life. He couldn’t imagine how it would feel for strangers to know his personal details.
“I’ll get her back to her room. Thank you for looking out for her,” he said, not wanting to waste time interrogating her further when she was trying to get set up for the day.
“Head through the relaxation room and take a left at the mud baths. You’ll be able to see the pool through the glass doors. No shoes inside,” she instructed, handing him a pair of white slippers.
“Thank you.” He exchanged his shoes for them as Magda walked behind the desk for the tray of raspberries and lemon slices and filled another dispensary.
“No need to thank us. It’s our job to make sure our clients feel safe and comfortable. I’ll have your shoes brought back to your room,” she said, scanning his smartwatch so the door to the spa opened for him.
Poppy sat in a white fluffy robe with her legs dangling in the water and a bottle of champagne beside her. Her humming echoed around the empty, tranquil pool area. A blackout ceiling with faux glimmering stars made it appear as though they were alone in the universe. The soft gurgle of the water and the gentle hum of the spa’s jacuzzi created a serene atmosphere, a stark contrast to the chaos of the muster drill.
Given how people talked about her, this might be the only moment of true peace Poppy would get on board, so Isaiah allowed her to savour another moment. He listened to her soft, sad song, thinking how she didn’t look like a major celebrity or a murderer. She just looked like a lonely young woman.
“I thought you were going to stay at the bar,” he said calmly, crouching beside her. With her blonde hair fanned around her shoulders and face make-up-free, she looked strangely vulnerable; now wasn’t the moment to lecture her aboutwandering off. Also, trying to reason with a drunk person was a waste of breath.
“I was at the bar. Then I fancied a swim, but they wouldn’t let me. This was the compromise,” she explained, looking at him with a hazy smile. Lifting the half-empty bottle of champagne, she kicked her feet in the water.
He was relieved they hadn’t let her in the pool. He didn’t think letting the princess of pop drown on his watch would be good for his career.
“Sleep off the booze, and you can go swimming,” he suggested, carefully trying to take the champagne from her. She quickly cradled it to her chest. He didn’t press, knowing that patience would be key to getting her back to the suite. “Can’t I have a drink?”
“I thought you didn’t drink while you were working? I hate champagne anyway, but it’s all they had down here.” She happily offered him the bottle. “I’ve never even been drunk before. I was only ever allowed a sip or two at award ceremonies.”
“You’ve never been drunk? Ever?” Isaiah brought the bottle to his lips and pretended to sip – he just wanted to put her at ease, and she had drunk enough for the both of them. Given her short stature and apparent inexperience with alcohol, he didn’t know how she was still conscious. He set the bottle between them, but she didn’t reach for it again.
She hiccupped and shook her head. “Never. Aunt Martha had eyes everywhere, and she warned me about the importance of staying clear-headed and never losing control of myself.” She wagged a finger at him. “But I can drink whatever I want, and eat what I want, and do whatever I want. Like, go swimming at two am. Do you know how embarrassing it is to be twenty-six years old and have no control over your life? Well, not anymore. Now it’s my time.” She kicked again, causing a big splash.
Have no control over her life? Her late aunt must have kept a firm grip on her. Isaiah felt a surge of protectiveness. He didn’t think her sober self would like her confessing too much, so he settled for an easy question.
“If you could eat anything right now, what would you like?”
“Strawberries.” She beamed. “I’d live on them if I could. Strawberry milkshakes, but I don’t think Room Service will deliver to the spa.”
He was sure guests could request anything on theMidas, no matter how ridiculous, and they’d oblige. A strawberry milkshake was simple enough.
“Why don’t we head back to the suite, and we can see about getting you that milkshake? Mina’s waiting for us, and she was worried when you weren’t at the muster point.”
“Why would Mina worry? We’re completely safe now.” Poppy sighed. “I’ve a hunky, chunky detective to keep me safe from all the big, bad wolves.”
“Hunky chunky?”
“I thought detectives were meant to be coffee addicts who were too busy for the gym and all scruffy, grumpy, and sceptical?” She squeezed his bicep and smirked.
