“Makes you want to join them, doesn’t it?” a voice said from just behind her right ear.
Startled, Sarah turned and found herself nearly nose-to-nose with Parsons. “No, Mr. Parsons-”
“Robert-”
“No, Mr. Parsons,” she said, taking a step away from him. “It doesn’t. They’re all about to stumble over the one who has fallen.”
He looked up at the mural and smiled. “They’ll help her to her feet and carry on with the dance.”
“At best, they’ll step over her and continue without her.”
He shook his head, but said nothing.
“The banners carry the insignia of St. George,” she said quickly, fixing her eyes on the painting.
“In honor of King George the Fifth’s twenty-fifth year as king,” Parsons said, “which is being celebrated by the dancers. The work was painted by A. R. Thomson-and is called ‘Royal Jubilee Week, 1935.’ ”
She turned scarlet.
“Oh, now you’re angry with me. I’ve spoiled your fun. Let me buy you a glass of wine.”
“I don’t-”
“You can toss it in my face if you like. I’ll present myself as a target.”
“No, no I’m sorry. It’s a bad habit of mine, spouting off facts and figures nobody cares to hear.”
“But you’re wrong-I’m very interested in what you have to say, Miss Milington.”
“Please, let’s go back to Sarah and Robert.”
He smiled. “All right.” He motioned to a doorway. “I’m sitting outside, but if you find it too chilly there for you-”
“No, I prefer it,” she said truthfully.
She was seated at his table, shielded from the afternoon breeze by a row of Plexiglas panels. Belatedly, she remembered to deliver her message.
“It was kind of you to walk all the way here to tell me,” he said, “but Ada is so seldom on time, I don’t think I would have worried.”
“I think she sent me as your chaperone,” she admitted.
He laughed. “No, no, I doubt that. Tell me, have you had a chance to see much of the ship yet?”
“No, I’ve only just unpacked.”
“Hmm. Then you must let me show you some of the more interesting sights-”
“I’m not sure-”
“You aren’t afraid of me, are you?” he asked. “I promise you won’t come to any harm.”
Not unaware that this was the longest conversation she had ever had with him, she said, “Oh, no, I’m not afraid. It’s just that Grandmother may not like me to dominate so much of your time.”
“Trust me, she’ll be delighted. Besides,” he added quietly, “she’ll have other demands to make of me later.”
Again Sarah felt herself blush.
“You misunderstand-” he began.
“It isn’t any of my business,” Sarah said quickly, relieved to see Ada approaching, accompanied by two elderly gentlemen, one on each arm. The men seemed to be doing their level best to keep up with her. Sarah, acquainted with most of Ada’s friends, did not know either of these men. But as they drew closer, she thought one of them did seem familiar.
Ada came to their table with long strides, flamboyantly garbed in a hot pink and turquoise jogging suit, wearing a white turban. How does she manage, Sarah wondered, to wear such silly outfits and still look great?
“Sarah!” Ada called out, “Meet the congressman!”
“Oh, not yet, not yet!” the taller of the two men exclaimed. “A mere state senator at the moment, but with your grandmother’s generous help, I may trade Sacramento for Washington, D.C.” He extended a hand. “Archer Hastings, my dear, at your service.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Senator,” Sarah said, now realizing why he seemed familiar. She was sure she had seen him on the evening news once or twice. He wasn’t the senator for their district, but Ada had many political friends, not all of them her own representatives.
When Ada introduced the second man, Gerald Dolman, the retired army captain turned crimson and nodded in Sarah’s direction, but did not meet her eyes. He was a thin man with a prominent Adam’s apple. It bobbed as he swallowed nervously. She wondered why he was so flustered over meeting her, but soon decided he was merely shy-he would not, in fact, look directly at any of the others, and the blush which had stolen over his neck and face remained throughout the time he sat with them.
Archer Hastings had no such reticence. He gave the others a quick biography of himself, a sort of résumé from the time he was a paperboy in the 1930s. He spoke at length about his enlistment in the army, his service (mostly behind a desk) during World War II. By the time he was telling them about his return to California and his establishment of an accounting firm, the drinks had arrived. What a pompous ass, Sarah thought, but Hastings was only warming up.
“Have you had a chance to tour the ship?” Ada was asking him.
“Yes, yes. Wonderful! Wonderful place for this lovely lady to celebrate her birthday,” he said to the others. “I’m certainly looking forward to that party tonight. The Grand Salon. Used to be the first class dining room. Largest single public room ever built on a ship. You could fit all three of Christopher Columbus’s ships in there and still have space left over. Have you seen it yet, Sarah? No? Oh, you must see it. Probably won’t let you in while they’re getting ready for the big to-do, but”-he winked conspiratorially-“you have friends in high places. Then of course, you will see it tonight, won’t you? Yes, a grand ship.”
Captain Dolman was making quick progress through his drink as Hastings went on.
“A symbol of triumph over the Great Depression, that’s what it was to the British,” the politician said.
“Yes,” Robert Parsons said, “she was a symbol of hope.”
For reasons Sarah could not understand, this caused Captain Dolman and Ada to look at him sharply. But Hastings was oblivious.
“I’ve always liked the British,” he was saying. “Don’t you like them? Sure. Like to do things on a grand scale-just like you, Ada. Say, did you know that if you measure from the Queen Mary’s keel to the top of her forward funnel, this ship is one hundred and eighty feet tall? That makes her eighteen feet taller than Niagara Falls! Now, that’s something, but her length is spectacular. If you could stand this ship on end, it would be taller than the Washington Monument. Taller than the Eiffel Tower, too. In fact, the Empire State Building would only be two hundred feet taller.”
“Two hundred and thirty feet,” Sarah said without thinking.
Parsons smiled, Ada laughed, and Captain Dolman nervously rattled the ice in his glass, which he was studying intently. Archer Hastings seemed taken aback until he noticed Ada’s reaction, then burst into hearty guffaws. Sarah felt her own cheeks turning red, and wondered if her complexion now matched Captain Dolman’s.
“I warned you, Archer,” Ada said. “She’s a wonder with numbers. As addicted to facts and figures as you are.”
“Really?” Hastings seemed unable to resist the challenge of testing this claim. “I suppose you know about the anchors?”
Sarah hesitated, but seeing Ada’s expectant look, answered, “There are two eighteen-foot long anchors, each weighs sixteen tons. The anchor chains are each nine hundred and ninety feet long. Each link of an anchor chain weighs two hundred and twenty-four pounds.”
“Very good, very good,” he acknowledged, although Sarah thought he did not seem to be truly pleased. “Your grandmother told me you had an excellent head for figures. Numbers have always been a specialty of mine. Making good use of them, not just dithering around with some theoretical nonsense. Of course, one can’t expect a young lady to have an appreciation of statistics; rare enough to find one who has any kind of brain for mathematics in the first place. No wonder your grandmother is so proud of-”