The Voyage of the Golden Handshake (6 page)

Albert and Alice spent a fairly comfortable night in the home of a retired bank manager and his wife, Mr and Mrs Arnold Robinson. As Albert did not wish to be reminded of his earlier encounter with the bank at home, he steered clear of discussing Mr Robinson’s career, which had taken him as far afield as Brighton and for relief duties to Bournemouth. The Robinsons had never taken a world cruise, and urged the Hardcastles to send plenty of postcards and give a full report on their return, as they themselves might want to take one, one day. This Alice promised to do.

Early the next morning, the kindly Robinsons packed Albert and Alice into the back of their ancient Ford Anglia.

‘A treasure,’ said Arnold; ‘a dream to drive and so cheap to run,’ and drove them to the pier where, after fond farewells and promises of everlasting friendship, the couple set off once again on the long trek to the boat. The tent had been dismantled, as Golden Oceans only had a one-day permit from the council, and so they were received by a crew member with an umbrella who pointed them in the direction of the end of the pier.

Once on board there seemed to be some semblance of order. Although the Admiral had retired at three in the morning, the senior staff and crew members had worked feverishly throughout the night to make the ship ready to receive the passengers for the second time in twenty-four hours. At the top of the gangway their names were ticked off a list by a crew security officer. The plastic cards were still not working properly and only ever part-functioned throughout the whole of the cruise. A helpful young man in a white jacket escorted them across the ballroom floor, along a corridor and up several sets of stairs.

‘My word,’ puffed Alice. ‘It’s a climb.’

It was indeed a climb to one of the six Balcony Suites that the Hardcastles had reserved.

The young man inserted the plastic in the door handle but the red light continued to glow. He performed the operation several times without success. Finally, in desperation, he put his shoulder against the door and with a crash it flew open, plummeting the steward headlong into the suite. He picked himself up with a smile, since he had been instructed always to smile. If asked by passengers ‘How are you?’ he was always to answer, ‘Excellent.’ If asked where he came from, as he would be, he was always to answer, ‘India,’ and not to be any more specific.

When he had smoothed himself down he addressed the fledgling cruisers.

‘I am your personal butler and my name is Udi. If you require
anything, rapidly turn the handle on the telephone on the desk and ask for me. I am at your service, sir,’ he smiled broadly, then turned politely to Alice. ‘Madam.’

Alice did not know what to say, never having had butler service before, so she simply replied, ‘Very nice, thank you, I’m sure.’

Albert looked around. ‘Eh lad,’ he said, somewhat surprised. ‘I thought we had a balcony.’

‘But, sir, you do,’ said the ever-obliging Udi. ‘Through there.’ He pointed upwards at a porthole secured by heavy wing-nuts. ‘Sir, I have to tell you sir that Health and Safety would not allow balcony doors, sir. Too dangerous, sir. Seawater might enter, sir.’

Albert pushed his cap back and scratched his head.

‘Well, how the Devil are we supposed to sit on it, lad?’ he asked, somewhat annoyed.

‘No problem, sir, very easy, sir. You call me on telephone, sir’. Udi opened a small cupboard and produced a set of steps. ‘I undo porthole and help you up steps. You go through and enjoy. I bring you drinks. Very nice, sir. Very nice, madam. Very private for sunbath, madam.’

Udi, still continuing his introduction to the suite, picked up a paper from the flimsy-looking dressing table.

‘You like drink, sir?’ he asked.

Albert replied that he was partial to a Brown Ale and Alice
had been known to have a sweet sherry on a Sunday and a small gin at Christmas.

‘Very good, sir. Very nice drink, sir. Very fine drink, madam. Today, no drink on ship. Tomorrow we get drink on ship in France.’ He handed Albert the printed list which read:

Albert read the list with a pained look on his face.

‘I thought the brochure said booze would be free,’ he said to Udi.

‘Duty-free,’ replied the butler. ‘All duty-free, sir. Very good bargain, sir.’

After asking if the occupants of the Balcony Suite required anything further and being told, ‘Not now, lad,’ Udi withdrew and only managed to close the door by pulling it violently and causing a picture of Westminster Pier, the home of one of the other Ships of the Line, to crash to the floor. Albert picked it up and laid it on the bed.

‘Well, luv,’ he said to Alice, who was gazing incredulously at the upper porthole, ‘at last we’re on our way.’

As if by some miracle, their suitcases had been delivered to their Suite and Alice set about unpacking and arranging their clothes in the very modest wardrobe. As she was engaged in this task, her husband climbed the steps and gazed out of the porthole.

‘We seem to be moving,’ he called down. ‘Although not very fast.’ From his vantage-point he could not see the sea but he had an excellent view of the clouds, and this told him that the ship might be moving through the water. There was also the
thump thump
from the engine, but this was an unreliable guide to movement as the Chief Engineer often tested the machinery when in port and had advised the passengers that from time to time the engine might make a little more noise than usual.

Albert was just stowing the suitcase beneath the bed when a slip of paper appeared under the door. He picked it up.

It read:

No sooner had Albert read the information through to Alice when a loud buzzing noise was heard in the cabin. ‘That’s it, luv,’ he said to Alice. ‘Let’s get moving’.

They tugged at the door, which reluctantly opened onto the corridor, along which several other couples were hurrying. With considerable effort they climbed the stairs and arrived at the Information Point, around which a large group of passengers had collected. There was a crackling noise and a small loudspeaker, fastened high on the wall, came to life.

‘This is Enzo your Cruise Director speaking with an important message,’ said the disembodied voice. ‘Please listen carefully.’

‘Can’t hear,’ said an anxious voice from somewhere in the crowd.

‘Shut up,’ said another, ‘otherwise none of us will hear.’

‘This morning at the prime time of eleven o’clock, and every morning at this same time, there will be a language class conducted by myself. In ten minute’s time I shall expect to see as many of you as possible in the Friesian Lounge, where I shall
introduce you to the French language. If you intend to go ashore this afternoon to collect your beverages, then it is of supreme importance that you have a basic grasp of French. Later in the cruise I shall be introducing you to other languages, all of which I speak fluently. Thank you for your kind attention and have a wonderful day.’

‘Damn waste of time,’ said Albert as they made their way back to the suite. ‘Who the hell needs French to order Brown Ale.’

No sooner had they got back to the cabin than the buzzer sounded again. ‘Good Lord,’ said Alice. ‘Is there no peace?’

Once again they joined the throng and made their weary way back to the loudspeaker. This time there were not quite so many people, as the more infirm of the group were still returning to their cabins following the first call. A few moments passed and the loudspeaker burst into life. Now it was Captain Sparda.

‘Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. It’s a lovely morning and we are well on our way. It is mandatory that at the start of every cruise there be a lifeboat drill. Yesterday, due to events beyond our control, we could not have the drill and so it will take place this afternoon, following the short visit to Calais. Please read the lifeboat instructions fastened to your bathroom door. Thank you ladies and gentleman. Happy sailing.’

‘Why the hell can’t they co-ordinate these announcements?’
said a disgruntled Albert. ‘We will spend all day running up and down the ship. I came for a cruise, not marathon training.’

Again Alice said nothing as her feet were hurting and she was beginning to feel a little queasy due to the slight motion of the ship. As it was almost eleven, instead of returning to their suite they found the Friesian Lounge where a largish group of passengers had assembled. Enzo made his entry and perched himself on a stool, whilst the class sat around him.

‘First,’ he said, ‘you will divide into groups. Each group will be tested after I have instructed you all. Points will be given for correct answers. At the end of the cruise you will not only have mastered several languages, but will have earned points to win wonderful prizes.’

He produced a book within which he had written a list of French words.

‘Right,’ he said, ‘repeat after me. Thank you - - -
Merci
.’

The passengers obediently repeated the word.

‘Isn’t he wonderful?’ whispered a passenger seated next to Alice. ‘He never forgets a face and has a total command of thirty-six languages.’

Alice held her counsel.

‘Wine - - - vin,’ he continued, and added a dozen or so other words which he regarded as essential.

Suddenly he pointed towards Albert. ‘Wine?’ he commanded. ‘Quick.’

Albert blinked. ‘I don’t want wine,’ he said. ‘I want Brown Ale.’

‘No points for one,’ said Enzo with obvious satisfaction.

‘What the hell was all that about?’ asked Albert when the class was over.

‘That’s it for me. Leave French to the Frogs, is what I say.’

Lunchtime approached and Alice had no appetite whatsoever. In order not to leave her on the first day, Albert considerately decided to order room service from the list in the suite.

‘What’s “De Jour” soup?’ he queried as he read down the list.

‘Sounds French to me,’ replied Alice. ‘Best not have that.’

He read further.

‘Pommes Frites,’ he said. ‘That sounds like an Aussie concoction. Don’t think I want that.’ Finally he settled for a corned-beef sandwich with pickle and a Brown Ale on the side.

Although Albert did not know it, he had made a fortunate choice as Radley Duvet had ordered a very large number of tins of corned beef which he reckoned could be used in many different ways. Many other items on the menu were regrettably off and would remain off for a considerable period of time. The Brown Ale did not arrive as the ship had yet to dock in France where alcoholic supplies were due to be purchased by the passengers. Albert had to content himself with a Dandelion and Burdock.

After lunch, Albert suggested that Alice might rest for
an hour or so and he would do the same. Alas, due to the fact that the Daily Programme, normally circulated to each suite, had been delayed, frequent announcements were made by the Cruise Director, which meant that Albert found himself in a constant state of motion between the Information Post and his cabin. Shortly before four in the afternoon, he was summoned yet again to be told that the ship would dock soon after five and would depart about seven that evening. All wanting to go ashore to sample the delights of the town, or to collect their drinks for the cruise, were told to assemble in the main ballroom. The drinks party would not have a courtesy coach as there was a strike at the port, but the Hotel Director had made special arrangements and there was no need for anyone to worry.

Albert left Alice sleeping and arrived in the ballroom promptly at four. The drinks party was by far the largest group; the majority of them were clutching small pieces of paper and mouthing the French words they had learned that very morning. Radley, still very tired, addressed them. He said that they would proceed ashore in crocodile fashion with himself at the head and the Cruise Director bringing up the rear. Earlier, this assignment had almost caused a fight between these two senior men as Enzo wanted to take the lead. Radley, quite rightly, resisted this suggestion with the argument that it was his show and he would lead it.