'It's incredible how your luck can change in cards,' said Paul as he and Barbara won another rubber and evened the score.
'You need more than luck,' said Katherine, with a glare at Jack.
'Shall we make this the deciding rubber?' Paul suggested.
'Just as you wish,' said Jack.
'If you don't mind,' said Barbara, it's a long time since I played whist. I find it hard to concentrate.'
That's the champagne, my dear,' said Katherine. it affects us all in different ways. Are you going to deal, partner, or shall we sit here looking at each other until we reach New York?'
Paul and Barbara won the last rubber by two games to one.
'That's it, then,' said Jack. 'Congratulations. America wins. We owe you a pound apiece.'
'You stood us the champagne,' said Paul. 'Weil call it quits.'
'One should always pay one's debts,' said Katherine. 'Barbara, here's my pound.'
Jack with unexpected force, said, 'Put it away. You don't pass money across a table here. Are you crazy?'
Katherine pushed the pound note at Barbara and said, 'Take it.'
Barbara hesitated. She looked to Paul for help.
Paul took the note and said, 'Yes, I'll buy a round for you, Katherine. That's really generous.'
'Leave me out,' said Jack, still angry. 'I've had enough for tonight — of everything.' He curtly wished them goodnight and left.
Katherine's eyes had filled with tears.
Barbara took her hand. She gave Paul a look that said she was capable of looking after Katherine. She said, 'Maybe some coffee would be better than a drink, Paul.'
He went to arrange it, still unable to account for the force of Jack's outburst. Gambling was against the Cunard regulations, but everybody knew it happened. They would hardly be hauled before the captain because a pound was passed across a table.
He ordered the coffee. He was in no hurry to go back to the table. He reckoned Barbara would cope better with Katherine alone. He was about to go to the bar and order a scotch when he saw Livy at the smoking room entrance. He remembered the three hundred bucks he owed him.
'MrCordell.'
'Livy to you, son.' He put his hand on Paul's arm. 'How about a drink? Marje has gone to put her feet up. Her ankles were starting to swell. Too much dancing.'
'I'd like to clear my debt with you,' said Paul. He took out his billfold and handed Livy the money he owed him. It was a simple transaction that made the scene of a few minutes before seem all the more unnecessary.
'Thanks,' said Livy. 'A scotch?'
'I'd like that.'
They stood at the bar counter with their drinks. 'Nice atmosphere on the Maury,' said Livy. 'She's a great ship. I was travelling on liners when you were just a kid. I know them all. That was before I met Marje. Now I'm kind of retired. I only get on ships in the vacation.'
'What was your line of work?'
'Import, export. Plenty of profit if you have a nose for trade. I made mine and put it in gilt-edged. We live off the interest.'
'Smart.'
'You said it, son. Here I am at forty-six and I can take it easy for the rest of my life. No more sweat for Livingstone Cordell. I have my own apartment overlooking Central Park. I have the cutest wife in New York and a beautiful stepdaughter as a bonus. Say, what happened to Barbara? I thought she was with you.'
'She is. That is to say she's over there in the alcove. We were playing cards.'
"Where? I don't see her.'
'She has her back to us. She's with that lady in the blue dress.'
'Her? What's she doing with her?' Livy's tone had changed. He seemed to imply that Paul had ditched his stepdaughter.
It was too much to explain to Livy. 'They had something to discuss. They sent me to order coffee. I can take a hint.'
Livy put his hand on Paul's arm and pushed him firmly towards the table. 'You go right back to them, son, and break it up. When two women get together, you're sunk. Don't let it happen.'
Paul glanced at Barbara. She was deep in conversation with {Catherine. Katherine was smiling.
He said,'Okay.'
But Livy had left.
16
After dinner Johnny Finch entertained Alma and the Americans from their table. He sat in an armchair in the centre of the lounge and told motoring stories. They were very funny. They were spiced with the names of people in society. The gentlemen bought expensive motor cars to impress the ladies. Either the cars or the gentlemen always got overheated, in the art of seduction,' Johnny told his audience, 'the motor car is an unreliable accessory.' He told a story of the late King Edward and a car that he had hired. The owner had a soft drinks factory and was hoping for a warrant of appointment in lieu of payment. The King drove into the country with a lady friend. The car ran out of petrol. The King was not dismayed. There was a pleasant interval. Eventually the King lighted a cigar. He told the lady all was well. A reserve supply of petrol was on board. He got out. He unstrapped the can. It was full of lemonade. The manufacturer failed to get his royal warrant.
Johnny's stories drew more people to the circle. He was still holding forth at midnight. The stories got more risque. A woman and her husband left the group. Alma was the last woman left. She waited for the next bout of laughter and got up to say goodnight.
'Leaving us so soon?' said Johnny.
'It's after midnight.'
'So it is, by George. And I was hoping to show you my Lanchester.'
Everyone laughed, including Alma.
'Perhaps later in the crossing,' said Alma.
'I'll keep you to that. Goodnight, my dear.' Johnny launched into a story about Henry Ford.
Alma made her way back to DDeck. She was slightly unsteady. She had drunk more wine than she intended. Each glass had helped to dilute her fears. She could not have faced a night in stateroom 89 without it.
The corridors were quiet. The ship was steady. Any sway was
Alma's. But she had no trouble finding her way. She followed the signs to the rooms beginning with the digit 8. She counted them off to 89.
"Do Not Disturb" had been removed.
She opened her bag and fumbled for the key. She held it under the light and checked the number. She pushed it into the lock. She waited a second. She turned it and opened the door.
The light was on and there were curtains drawn across the portholes. The cabin trunk was open.
Alma took a long breath. She stepped close enough to look inside. The trunk was empty. She said aloud, 'Thank God.' She closed the stateroom door.
She looked inside the bathroom. She opened drawers and cupboards. She could not think of sleep until she knew exactly what was in that room. She saw Lydia's clothing, neatly folded. Everything looked clean and new. There was a nightdress in black satin. She would not wear it.
She took off the georgette evening gown. She cleaned off the make-up in the bathroom. She decided to take a bath. While she was in the water she felt as if the ship changed course. The cadence of the engines altered. The bath water slurped around her. It happened more than once. For a time she thought the ship had stopped. It lurched again as she reached for the towel. Her stomach heaved. She wished she had drunk less wine.
The ship seemed to settle to its usual rhythm. Alma was grateful. She put on her petticoat and got into bed. She had not put out the light. But she was less frightened than she had thought. The worst was over now. She turned her face to the wall. She was soon asleep.
17
The sound of someone in the passage wakened her. It was a steward serving tea. There was sunlight on the ceiling. Alma checked her watch. It was nearly eight o'clock. Sunday morning. She had slept at least seven hours. She stretched her limbs. She thought of Walter in his cabin. Had he slept so well?