The False Inspector Dew

too late now.

4

Livy Cordell liked Southampton Dock. He liked the moment when the boat train steamed into the shed beside the ship, and some guy tugged at the broad leather strap to let down the window and you got the first whiff of salt air laced with the coaldust of the Southern Railway. It brought back the old days when he had made his way in the world, crossing the herring pond more than a dozen times, steerage at first, and then second class as the profits got bigger. This time he was first class. He and his ladies had taken breakfast on the train. It had left at nine, a full hour and a half after the train for third class passengers. No-one talked of steerage any more.

A porter helped them out and humped the luggage onto a truck. Their passports and tickets had been checked on the train. From every side they could hear American voices. For so many it was the end of the vacation in Europe. The Mauretania band was on the platform doing its best to restore their spirits with military marches.

Livy took out the embarkation cards. Ahead he spotted a familiar face. 'Say, isn't that young Westerfield?'

'Paul?' said Barbara with undisguised excitement. 'Where?'

'A little way ahead. He's wearing a boater.'

'I can't see.'

'There he goes!' said Marjorie. 'He's left the queue. He's coming this way.'

'Well, isn't that nice?' said Livy. 'Do you think he spotted us?'

Marjorie's voice changed abruptly, i don't think so, honey.'

Barbara had turned a bright pink.

Paul Westerfield was with an extremely pretty girl in a gold crepe de chine dress that matched her blonde curls and white hat, but looked out of place on a jetty in mid-morning. She didn't seem at all concerned. She had her white-gloved hand tucked round his arm and she was talking with her face turned towards him, oblivious to everything. But Paul's face registered that he had noticed the Cordells. There was a brief moment of indecision and then he moved towards them. He said something to Poppy and she turned her head and looked at Barbara. The look started as a glassy stare and turned into a radiant smile.

'What a surprise! Hello, Barbara. How's your head this morning?'

'How are you both?' said Barbara in a flat voice. 'Mother, Livy, this is Poppy. We met last night. You already met Paul.'

'Sure,' said Livy. 'Nice to meet you, Poppy.' They shook hands.

Marjorie simply nodded her head and gave an equivocal smile.

'Poppy has come all the way down here to see me off,' said Paul in an obvious attempt to be casual. 'We just heard that visitors have to use a different gangplank.'

'Back there,' said Livy. 'I saw the sign.'

'Thanks. Well…' Paul took a step away, i guess I'll see you later, folks.'

'Ta-ta!' said Poppy.

As they moved off, Poppy's hand curled round Paul's arm again.

Livy turned to Barbara and said, 'Say, you can just see the hull of the ship through the gap there. When you get on the gangplank, be sure to take a look at the size of her. It's an incredible sight, and you won't get it again till we reach New York.' He knew it was a transparent attempt to distract, but someone had to pick up the conversation for Barbara's sake. He felt quite cut up himself.

'I just want to get on board and have a large gin,' said Marjorie. 'How about you, Barbara?'

Ahead in the queue, Lydia Baranov crossed the gangway and went aboard the Mauretania. She had a porter to carry her case. At the purser's desk they checked her embarkation card against the passenger-list.

'You're travelling alone, Mrs Baranov?'

'Yes, my husband had to cancel his passage.'

'That's unfortunate, madam, but I hope you enjoy the crossing, nevertheless.' The assistant purser turned to the line of blue-uniformed bellboys in attendance. 'Stateroom 89 for Mrs Baranov.'

The boy first in line stepped forward and took the key. 'This way, if you please, madam.' With the manner of an old salt the boy headed across the crowded embarkation hall with Lydia and her porter in tow. A touch here and a word there and people obligingly moved aside. As he passed obstacles like sets of golf clubs and terriers on leads the bellboy pointed out the hazards without turning round. He led her into a cherry-wood panelled corridor. Everywhere there were groups of passengers and visitors, talkative, tearful, amorous, agitated and boisterous, while porters, stewards, newsboys and flower sellers passed among them. Lydia stopped to buy a Daily Mail and nearly lost the bellboy.

Stateroom 89 was down a flight of stairs at the end of another corridor. The bellboy unlocked the door and Lydia took some money from her purse and tipped the porter. The bellboy pulled aside the curtains.

'So I have two portholes,' said Lydia. That will be nice. Which side of the ship are we?'

'Port side, madam. This is D Deck, also known as the Upper Deck. The first class dining saloon is through the door at the end of the corridor and straight ahead. Shall I open one of the portholes?'

Thank you. What time is it now?'

'About half past eleven, madam. Luncheon is served at one o'clock.'

'I won't bother with lunch. I'll unpack my things and have a quiet hour with the newspaper. Kindly see that I'm not disturbed.' She found a shilling and gave it to the boy.

Left alone, she went to the porthole he had opened and peered out, but all she could see was the tip of one of the cranes on the quayside. The room seemed extraordinarily high in the ship's side. She had not been prepared for the hugeness of the Mauretania. She turned from the porthole and saw that her cabin trunk had been brought in and left beside the chest of drawers. That was one worry removed.

All told, it was not a bad place to pass five days in. She inspected the bathroom. It was on the small side, but beautifully finished in white marble. In the main cabin she had the chest of drawers, an armchair, dressing-table, washstand, writing desk and small round table with a vase of fresh roses. The bed felt comfortable enough. The side away from the wall had a wooden board to box the occupant in when the ship was rolling.

There was still half an hour to sailing time.

She was determined not to feel lonely. This was the start of a great adventure. It would be ridiculous to get morbid now. She unlocked the trunk and started to take out the lovely new things she had bought to wear on the voyage.

5

'You know, this wouldn't be allowed in New York,' Paul told Poppy as they sat together in the smoking room sipping sherry.

'Ladies in the smoking room?' said Poppy. 'Blimey, I thought we was old- fashioned.'

'No. This.' He held up the sherry glass. 'Prohibition. On the way over, we weren't allowed to touch a drop until the ship was past the twelve mile limit. Then you should have seen the rush for the bar.'

Poppy giggled. 'I always thought you Yankees went on British ships because the food was better.'

'Now you know. Imagine five days at sea on a dry ship like the Leviathan: Suddenly Paul's attention was caught by someone on another table. 'What do you know? There's Barbara and her people again.'

This was not good news for Poppy. She had a job to do before she left the ship. She needed Paul to herself.