They had brought two bottles of champagne with them, and the steward poured yet another bottle liberally as they all stood around Sarah’s stateroom and chatted. Her room connected to her parents’ suite of rooms through a large living room big enough to accommodate a baby grand piano, which James discovered only moments later, and he began to pound on it happily as his mother begged him not to.
“Do you suppose we should put a sign outside the door to reassure people that James isn’t going with you?” his father asked with a dubious grin as he watched him.
“It’s good for his musical abilities.” His grandfather smiled indulgently. “Besides, it’ll give us something to remember him by for the next two months, a nice loud send-off.”
Jane noticed how severely her sister was dressed, but she had to admit that she looked beautiful anyway. She had always been the more striking of the two, combining both their parents’ looks. Jane had their mother’s softer, less defined, gentle blond beauty. It was her father who had the dark Irish looks Sarah had inherited and somehow improved on.
“I hope you have a good time,” Jane said with a quiet smile, relieved that Sarah was actually going. They all wanted her to make new friends, see new things, and then come home and get back in touch with her old friends. Her life had been so lonely for the past year, so bleak, and incredibly empty. Or at least that was how it looked to Jane. She couldn’t imagine living as Sarah had done for the past year. But then again, she couldn’t even begin to imagine a life without Peter.
They left the ship as its whistle began to blow, and the smokestacks roared to life while stewards circulated in the halls, playing chimes and urging people to go ashore if they were going to. There was a flurry of kisses and hugs, and people calling to each other everywhere, last gulps of champagne, last embraces, a sprinkling of tears, and then finally the last of the visitors had gone down the gangplank. The Thompsons stood on the deck and waved to Peter and Jane, as James squirmed in his father’s arms, and Marjorie waved as Jane held her. There were tears in Victoria Thompson’s eyes as she looked at them. Two months was going to be a long time away from them, but it was a sacrifice she was willing to make if it was going to help Sarah.
“Well,” Edward Thompson said with a satisfied smile. All had gone well as far as he was concerned. They had just left the dock, and they were on their way. They were actually taking Sarah to Europe. “What shall we do now? A walk around the deck? A visit to the shops?” He was looking forward to the trip and to seeing some of his old friends again. And he was thrilled that they had succeeded in convincing Sarah to go to Europe. It was a good time to go. The political situation there had been increasingly tense recently. Who knew what might happen later. If there was a war in a year or two, this might be their last chance to go to Europe.
“I think I’ll unpack,” Sarah said quietly.
“The stewardess will do all of that for you,” her mother explained, but Sarah didn’t care.
“I’d rather see to it myself,” she said, looking bleak in spite of the festive surroundings. There were balloons and streamers and confetti everywhere, from the sailing.
“Shall we meet you in the dining room for lunch?”
“I might take a nap.” She tried to smile at them, but she was thinking how difficult the next two months would be, constantly being with them. She had become used to licking her wounds alone, and although most of the wounds seemed to have healed, the scars were still evident, and she preferred keeping them to herself. She couldn’t imagine being with them night and day, and enduring their constant efforts to cheer her. She had no desire whatsoever to be cheered. She had come to like her solitary life, and her dark thoughts, and her lonely moments. It was not the way she had been before, but it was who and what she had become, thanks to Freddie Van Deering.
“Wouldn’t you rather get some air?” her mother persisted. “You might get seasick if you spend too much time in your cabin.”
“If I do, I’ll come out for a walk then. Don’t worry, Mother. I’m fine,” she said, but neither of her parents was convinced as she went back to her cabin.
“What are we going to do with her, Edward?” Her mother looked glum as they took a walk around the deck, glancing at the other passengers, and then out to sea, thinking about Sarah.
“She’s not easy. I’ll grant you that. I wonder if she’s really as unhappy as she seems, or if she just fancies herself a romantic figure.” He wasn’t sure he understood her anymore, or that he ever had. Sometimes both of his daughters were a mystery to him.
“Sometimes I think being miserable has just become a habit,” Victoria answered him. “I think at first she was genuinely distraught, and hurt, and disappointed, and she was embarrassed about the scandal Freddie had caused. But you know, in the last six months I’ve gotten the feeling that she actually enjoys her life like this. I think she likes being alone, and being something of a recluse. I don’t know why, but she does. She was always very gregarious when she was young, and much more mischievous than Jane. But it’s as though she’s forgotten all that and become someone else now.”
“Well, she’d better become the old Sarah again, and damn soon. This reclusive nonsense of hers just isn’t healthy.” He completely agreed with his wife. He, too, had the feeling that in the past few months she had come to enjoy it. There was something more peaceful about her than there had been, and she seemed more mature, but she certainly didn’t seem happy.
As they went to lunch afterwards, Sarah was sitting quietly in her stateroom, writing a letter to Jane. She never ate lunch anymore. She usually went for a long walk on the beach instead, which is why she stayed so thin. But it was no real sacrifice to her, she was very seldom hungry.
Her parents stopped by to see her after lunch, and found her stretched out on her bed, still in the black dress, but with her hat and shoes off. Her eyes were closed, and she didn’t move, but her mother suspected that she wasn’t really sleeping. They left her alone, and came back to find her again an hour later, and she had changed into a gray sweater and slacks, and she was reading a book in a comfortable chair, oblivious of her surroundings.
“Sarah? A walk on the promenade deck? The shops are fabulous.” Victoria Thompson was determined to be persistent.
“Maybe later.” Sarah never took her eyes off her book, and when she heard the door close, she assumed her mother had left the cabin. She raised her eyes then with a sigh, and gave a start when she found herself looking right at her mother. “Oh … I thought you had gone.”
“I know you did. Sarah, I want you to come outside for a walk with me. I am not going to spend this entire trip begging you to come out of your room. You’ve decided to come, now try and do it gracefully, or you’ll ruin it for everyone, particularly your father.” They were always so worried about each other, it amused Sarah sometimes, but right now it annoyed her.