The Voyage of the Golden Handshake (32 page)

‘Well, you will enjoy it I’m sure. Mr Tucker goes out of his way to please.’

The Admiral smiled politely and strolled away to speak with Sir Archie and his wife. The latter was scowling at a vodka bottle and no doubt thinking of her wasted supplies of the stuff.

‘Sir Archibald and Lady Veronika, how good to see you. We have met previously.’ The Admiral addressed Sir Archie directly. ‘I was once invited by Buffy Thompson to dine at the Travellers, and you were at the members’ table. I remember he introduced us.’

‘By George!’ exclaimed Sir Archie. ‘I
thought
I knew you.’

‘Poor old Buffy. Got eaten by a crocodile, you know. Terrible
experience.’

The doctor, who was standing nearby, chipped in. ‘Who for?’ he said. ‘Buffy or the croc?’

Sir Archie looked startled but Lady Veronika actually managed a smile.

‘Well, Doctor,’ said the Admiral, ‘I was truly relieved that there were no real injuries at the opening of the pool. It could have been a very serious incident indeed.’

‘How right you are,’ nodded the doctor. ‘Fortunately, I took the precaution of having the pool swept for crocodiles before we started.’

The Admiral managed to laugh and went to talk to a lady who was chatting with the Cruise Director.

‘May I introduce Mrs Golightly,’ Enzo said.

The Admiral greeted her. ‘We have not met previously, but I hope all is well with you,’ he said pleasantly.

The woman did not reply but began to dab at her eyes with a fragrant handkerchief as tears appeared and rolled down her pale cheeks.

‘I say,’ the Admiral said, alarmed. ‘These cocktail onions are rather strong, aren’t they? Let me order you some crisps or something.’

She took a sip of her cocktail and apologised.

‘I’m so sorry, Admiral, but my dear husband passed away just a few weeks ago and this is the first time I have come out of
my Balcony Suite since we sailed. He was a dear, dear man and adored cruising. How he would have loved to be here for this evening.’

‘Well, my dear, I’m quite sure he is with us in spirit,’ said the Admiral, not knowing what else to say.

Enzo beamed and muttered, ‘
Vero, vero.
’

The Admiral was about to resume circulating when someone gently touched his elbow. He looked around and saw it was Angela.

‘I’m terribly sorry to be late,’ she whispered. ‘I ought to have been here to accompany you around the room, but I got an urgent call from the chaplain, who could not find his clerical collar. Fortunately, we managed to find an old Fairy Liquid container and cut a collar out of that. No one would ever know.’

The Admiral glanced at the chaplain, who was looking somewhat sheepish, and said to Angela that he understood perfectly. He sighed and moved on.

Mrs Dora Guttenburg was deep in conversation with the Hotel Manager, Radley Duvet. She was showing him some fancy dancing steps that she regularly performed back in Iowa. Unfortunately, the Admiral approached her from behind just as she was demonstrating the Iowan Clog Dance, and her ample foot landed painfully on the tip of his highly polished evening shoes. He could not suppress a loud yelp which, when uttered, made the whole room fall silent. Angela, quick off the mark as
always, or almost always, took over and suggested that everyone take their seats.

‘Welcome everyone,’ said the Admiral when they were seated. ‘There will be no formal speeches this evening, but I wanted to say how good it is that you could join me in our Premier Restaurant for dinner.’

Before he could say anything further, Petra, one of the New Zealand twins, was on her feet.

‘Admiral,’ she said. ‘It is we who ought to be giving
you
a dinner tonight. Your officers demonstrated exceptional bravery in the face of such a terrible tsunami. We might have all drowned in our bunks had it not been for the quick action of the dear Chief Engineer, Mr Angus.’

As Petra Parkinson was far from her bed at the time of the imagined tsunami, her analogy was not quite accurate, but the Admiral understood well enough. The doctor did not. He looked up from the menu he was studying.

‘Eh?’ he exclaimed in a loud voice. ‘What tsunami? Was I on the ship at the time?’

The Admiral coughed politely. ‘Thank you so very much, Ms Parkinson,’ he said, desperate to change tack and conscious of the fact that he had told a white lie at the time of the opening of the pool. ‘Alas, the Chief cannot be here tonight as he has urgent matters to attend to, but I shall convey your appreciation
to him.’

‘Hold on,’ continued the doctor. ‘I must have missed some excitement.’

It was at this point that the truth was revealed of the saying that God moves in a mysterious way, his wonders to perform. For at that tricky moment, Philippa, the other twin from New Zealand, slipped from her chair and landed with a crash under the table. Immediately there was commotion all round. A couple of chairs were knocked over as Enzo and Radley leaped to their feet. The doctor got on all fours to retrieve the fallen guest and administer first aid. The only person to remain totally calm was Petra who, when order was restored and Philippa was back in her seat, said: ‘Oh dear, she is always like this when she has had more than three Headsplitters. This is the only difference between us. I can drink seven and not be affected. Poor Philippa can’t manage half as many. We don’t buy Headsplitters in New Zealand, you know. It’s only when we are away that we allow ourselves a little treat. I do apologise, Admiral.’

‘Nothing to apologise for, I assure you,’ said the much-relieved Admiral. ‘These chairs are particularly slippery, but that is because our excellent team keep this restaurant absolutely spotless. Now, let’s turn to the menu, if we may. How do you feel, Ms Parkinson? I do hope you are well enough to stay.’

‘Quite well, thank you, Admiral,’ said a totally revived Philippa. ‘I must congratulate your men on their diligence in
keeping this ship so neat and tidy, even though it meant my suffering a small misfortune as a result.’

The doctor, always one to comment on any situation, piped up yet again. ‘Did you know, Mrs Guttenburg,’ he said, causing all eyes to fall on the clog-dancing widow. ‘Did you know that it’s illegal to get a fish drunk in Ohio?’

Mrs Guttenburg looked startled. ‘I’m not from Ohio,’ she said somewhat indignantly. ‘I have lived in Iowa all my life and have never even visited Ohio.’

‘Oh,’ said the doctor in reply. ‘Well, all these places sound the same to me.’

‘How on earth could you get a fish drunk?’ queried Sir Archie. ‘They spend all their lives in water so I don’t see how it’s possible, let alone illegal.’

The Doctor laughed and avoided answering with another amazing fact: ‘You can’t even fish for whales on a Sunday in that State,’ he said. ‘They have a real problem with fish in Ohio.’

‘I think it’s time to order,’ said the Admiral, half-grateful to the doctor for steering the conversation in such a bizarre way and a little annoyed that he had startled Mrs Guttenburg, a guest whom he knew little about except that she was extremely wealthy. He was also cross that the doctor had referred to drunkenness. That was the last thing anyone ought to suggest.

Sir Archie had not finished yet. ‘I spent many years in Alaska,’ he said. ‘I was doing some work for a scientific journal
and discovered that it’s illegal to wake a sleeping bear to take a photograph.’

Quick as a flash, the doctor chipped in: ‘I didn’t know bears could take photographs!’ he quipped.

‘I meant,’ said Sir Archie, ‘that one could not wake such an animal for the purpose of taking a photograph of that animal.’

‘Ah, I see,’ said the doctor in mock surprise.

Sir Archie continued. ‘It is also illegal to get a moose drunk.’

The Admiral, hearing yet another reference to drink and conscious of the New Zealand twin and her Headsplitters, came in now with greater force.

‘We really must order, I’m afraid. Time is going by so quickly and Harry and his team will want to get on with preparing our meal.’

Like participants at a bingo session, all heads went down to peruse the menu. It was enormous. Not that there were too many options, but its sheer size was overwhelming. Each menu was the size of a full-blown newspaper before the day of the tabloids.

‘You can order the Chinese cuisine,’ said the Admiral. ‘Or, if you prefer, there are a range of alternatives available, all equally good.’

Before collecting the menu from the waiter Albert had seen chopsticks laid before him and had notified Alice that on no account was he going to eat his meal with sticks. He emulated
Angus by saying that sticks were for tree-dwellers, where sticks were plentiful. Whilst Sheffield was still in England he would like a plain knife and fork.

‘You will note,’ said the Admiral once again, ‘that we have a special innovation in this restaurant. You can order steak, or fish, which will be brought to you in a raw state and you cook it exactly as you like it on your very own, very hot volcanic rock.’

‘Good Lord,’ chuckled the Doctor. ‘Do they want us to do the washing up as well as cook our own food?’

The table laughed at this wit and within a few moments orders were complete. The majority chose the black rock. Lady Veronika put in a special order for food not on the menu, a plate of raw broccoli, some fermented yak’s milk and a bowl of unsalted peanuts.

Albert ordered fish and chips with garden peas, as mushy peas were not available. The others took either meat or fish from the heated rock selection.

The evening was a great success. No further reference was made to the tsunami. Mrs Golightly told the Hotel Manager that in future she would come to the main dining room to eat rather than stay in her suite. The twins were genteel and polite, and the only difficult moment occurred when the doctor attempted to converse with Enzo in French. Enzo pretended he had a hearing problem, but if truth be known, he didn’t understand a word. The doctor said if he came to the surgery he would fix the problem
by putting a water pistol to his head - an offer that Enzo declined. All in all it was a jolly evening and went down in the Admiral’s log book as a night to remember.

Sea days were the days when the Cruise Director could come into his own. Passengers were trapped on board whether they liked it or not, and many needed entertainment provided for them. Enzo conducted Piddling Pursuits each day and, to be fair to him, it was very popular amongst passengers. He was a master at keeping the quiz moving without too much hostility, for it had been known on some ships for shouting matches to take place and even hand-to-hand fighting between zealous competitors. No other member of the ship’s company wanted to conduct the game and Enzo wanted no one else to conduct it, so everyone was happy. His language classes, now moved from the prime time of eleven in the morning, had been shunted around and were as desultory as ever. Because one or two passengers wanted them he kept them going, but they were a disaster and in his heart he knew it.

Norma and Graham Trotter the World Ludo Champions were seldom seen around the ship, as each and every day was spent either instructing novices or arranging and supervising championships. Unfortunately, several days out on the cruise,
Graham developed a severe case of Ludo finger, a condition brought about by too much pressure being put on the digit when excitement is running high in the game. The doctor put him on a course of antibiotics and he was soon well again. Despite warnings from many a health organisation, antibiotics continued to be a favourite standby for the ship’s Medical Centre, and passengers paid a considerable sum for a course of the drugs.

Now Graham was back ‘on the board’ so to speak, Norma was relieved from the terrible responsibility of having to watch out for cheating and intimidating behaviour all on her own. She fulfilled this role splendidly and a passenger secretly nominated her to receive a free allocation of bonus points at her local supermarket back home.

On sea days Mr Fennington Barley danced the day away. He began with warm-up classes, after which there was a mid-morning coffee dance followed by an afternoon spent teaching before he dropped into the theatre as a consultant to the professional dancers. Following that, he was back on the dance floor until the early hours.

Cousin Giovanni and Marko Contoni were exceptionally busy, virtually playing around the clock. Their time on board was now beginning to lose something of its glamour. The two musicians were rushed off their feet. Passengers did not tip, of course, and Captain Sparda was only providing food and lodging, so they were not making any money and thus began to think
that it was about time to go home. Enzo was given the task of finding a new group of musicians who would be on board for the remainder of the cruise. It was not an easy task. Finally, in desperation, after searching high and low, he gave up.

‘Radley,’ he said to the Hotel Manager, with whom he was now on much better terms, ‘I am having no luck at all in finding a small group of musicians for the remainder of the tour. I am at my wit’s end, really I am.’

‘It is a real problem,’ agreed Radley, ‘but I think we might have a solution. From amongst the passengers there must be musicians. If we could get together a team of four - we have instruments somewhere on board - then they could play in return for a free drink now and again.’

It was only a matter of minutes before an appeal went out, written by Radley himself.

One of the Joys of cruising is being able to be away from home in the company of like-minded people and to experience exotic locations and relaxed days at sea. What is better than, after a day of exploring new places or enjoying the delights of the new pool, to return to a sumptuous dinner followed by relaxing with your favourite pastime: a jigsaw puzzle, a crossword or line dancing. Some of you will have learned musical instruments and you may now think it is the time to play them again for your own delight and for the delight of your fellow passengers. If this is the case, please come this afternoon to the
main assembly room where there will be a brief audition and a further explanation of what you might do. If you have your instrument with you please bring it along. If not, then we have several on board and you can choose what you would wish to play.

Yours in harmony,

Radley Duvet - Hotel Manager

Enzo Bigatoni - Cruise Director

Later that afternoon, Radley, Enzo and Rod Saddleworth the musical cook, were making their way to the reception area to begin the audition. They were surprised when, as they approached, they saw about twenty passengers waiting for the door to open.

‘Greetings, Maestro!’ shouted someone from the small crowd. Enzo turned and noted the infamous Felix de Barkley, the passenger who was always ready with some witty comment or other. Enzo made a theatrical bow accompanied by an extravagant sweep of the hand, and they entered into the auditorium followed by the budding musicians.

On the small stage was a motley collection of instruments that had been procured by the Admiral before the voyage started. He had had them stowed on board and then promptly forgot all about them, until this moment. ‘What an odd assortment,’ Radley mused as he eyed the collection.

Apart from the piano, which had always been in use, there was a tuba, two violins, a guitar, a worn-looking set of drums, a saxophone, and a clarinet. Rod took his place at the piano and ran his fingers up and down the keys. It sounded OK … just. Radley turned to the budding orchestra and addressed them.

‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he said. ‘It is so good to see so many music-lovers here today, anxious to share your talents with the whole ship. Thank you for coming. As you can see, we have a selection of instruments here on the platform which should, with care, produce an acceptable orchestra for the ship.’

‘At least when it goes down we can have a musical accompaniment like the
Titanic
.’

It was de Barkley again, and Enzo gave him one of his disapproving scowls.

‘No need for comments like that, sir,’ said Duvet, ‘but as you have spoken, may I ask what is your chosen instrument?’

The man was quick to reply. ‘I learned the mouth organ at school,’ he said somewhat plaintively.

Quick as a flash Enzo replied, ‘Yes, we’ve noted that. I don’t think there is such an instrument here.’

‘Don’t fret,’ de Barkley replied. ‘I’ve got mine with me.’ And he produced a large German instrument of the kind that Radley used to covet as a schoolboy.

‘Right,’ said Enzo. ‘Rod, if you could accompany Mr de Barkley, we can begin.’

Rod Saddleworth played a few opening bars of ‘The Bluebells of Scotland’ and then Felix de Barkley came in - without, it must be said, a great deal of subtlety. He was a mouth organist of the ‘suck blow vigorously’ variety. Radley made a note in his book.

‘Thank you, sir,’ he said. ‘We will let you know. Next.’ He looked up and saw a couple of passengers pushing someone forward.

‘Go on,’ they were saying. ‘You must give it a try.’

To the surprise of the examiners, the person who was pushed to the front turned out to be none other than the chaplain.

‘Well, hello, Reverend,’ said Radley affably. ‘You’re very welcome, but I don’t think we need an organist at the moment.’

The chaplain smiled. ‘No, it’s not the organ I play, although I can manage a few tunes in an emergency. No, it’s something different.’

‘Well, take your pick,’ said Bigatoni, indicating the various instruments on stage.

The chaplain stepped forward, jumped nimbly up onto the platform and, to the surprise of everyone, sat himself behind the drum-kit. The next few moments were astonishing. At least, the whole assembled gathering were totally amazed. The chaplain handled the instruments like a true professional, in a way that would have made Phil Collins look like a beginner, and for two or three minutes he kept everyone entranced. When he laid down
the sticks the whole assembly broke into spontaneous applause.

‘That was very good indeed,’ said Radley when the chaplain stepped down from the platform. ‘Where did you learn to play like that?’

The chaplain responded by saying that when he was a student, he paid his way by playing in various bars and clubs. What he didn’t add was that he had an enormous collection of jazz records and could also play the saxophone.

Both Bigatoni and Duvet were greatly impressed and signed him up immediately. When he was out of earshot Duvet remarked that, now they had had one shock, he wouldn’t be at all surprised if one of the twin sisters came forward offering to play the trumpet! This did not happen, but both sisters offered to play the piano and were accepted as it was doubtful that Rod would be able to leave the galley every time music was required. It must be admitted that they tended to play at a somewhat sedate pace, but it was hoped they might liven up once the chaplain got moving on the percussion.

The audition was full of the unexpected, for who should come forward next but Lady Veronika. She was scowling as usual, but her facial appearance was now accepted and no sinister intent was attributed to her simply because she looked combative. Without a word she went directly to the instruments and selected the saxophone. A few quick runs up and down the scale and she was off.

‘This is quite remarkable,’ said Bigatoni as she played away. ‘Who would have thought that she would be able to play like that.’

Without hesitation she was included and now they had the core of a small group: piano, percussions and saxophone.

‘An electric guitar would be useful,’ said Enzo, and eventually an artiste was discovered in the person of Ron Batty, the former AA patrol man. In his youth Ron had managed to master the guitar and in fact was still quite accomplished. Another half-hour was spent listening to other passengers who claimed to be experts, but both Enzo and Radley were now satisfied with the group they had. When the audition came to an end Enzo requested that the chaplain, the New Zealand twins, Lady Veronika and Ron Batty stay behind for a few moments. He thanked the others and said that he would be in touch with them if further musical help was required. Felix de Barkley was told that the mouth organ might come in very well for a special item on the programme and he would let him know about that.

‘I think,’ said Duvet to the small group left behind, ‘I think that we had better get acquainted and also find a name for the band.’

Without a moment’s hesitation, the chaplain, who was gaining confidence by the moment, said: ‘It’s obvious. The Golden Bells.’

And that was that.