“Nicko,” he called, in his voice an ugly quavering. “Can I speak wit you?”
Nobody moved or answered.
“Er, I think Tony’s calling, Nicko…” I petered out.
The crewmen shoved Tony inside the motor. One sat behind him as the other drove the car up the slope and away. Sacked? Perhaps for lacking vigilance? On the boat life instantly resumed.
“Right,” Nicko said. “Let’s go.”
“To help Busman? There’s no need for us all,” I thanked him. “Just Mr Gordino, if he could…”
Nicko departed, shaking his head. The lawyer sprinted ashore after darting me a malevolent glance. The crew sprang into action. Orly left at a peremptory signal from Gina. There are some people who, whatever they do, look as if they’re always sweeping up after the boss. Orly was one. Mind you, Gina would be lovely to associate with in any circumstances—or so I thought, then.
“Don’t go, Lovejoy.”
“Yes, Mrs. Aquilina?”
Tye Dee beckoned a crewman, who eyed my measures doubtfully. They had gone below through heavily varnished doors.
Gina was so desirable my throat had practically closed. I stood, mesmerized and in difficulties.
“I’m grateful. You saved my life. You know you could have gotten yourself shot?”
“Well.” I struggled with my airway.
She gazed out at the river. Sunlight consorts with a woman, doesn’t it? I looked. She turned to gaze at me.
“There’s only one thing makes a man take a stupid risk like that, Lovejoy. I just want you to know I understand. But it’s out of the question. However, you deserve some sort of reward. You can have your pick of the staff. As long as you are discreet about it, and the girl goes along.”
I pondered. What the hell was she saying? That I was lovelorn? That I’d acted from adoration, or what? I got breath and was about to explain that she’d got it wrong. I mean, don’t misunderstand me. She was blindingly beautiful, and knew it. And I’d have given anything just to, well. But when a living creature’s in mortal danger, I mean any bloke in his right mind would do the same thing without weighing the pros and cons, right? I’ve rushed across motorway traffic to save a bewildered hedgehog before now. It’s what people do. Instinct or something.
“Well, Gina…” Then I thought. My one brain cell shrieked to beware.
It’s this business of women and love. It lies at the root of all of life. Everybody loves a lover, true. But does every woman love a lover equally? Not on your life she doesn’t. Oh, they adore Abelard, crazy for Heloise. They revere Romeo’s lust for Juliet, John Whatsisname for Lorna Doone. And here was the lady who had everything — power, wealth, beauty, youth — saying openly that she approved of me, your one-off destitute scruff, solely because she believed that I’d fallen for her. Of course, she was right. But it was true for her maid Blanche, for Rose Hawkins, her imperious sister Moira. For Della, Lil at Fredo’s bar, for… No. The great mistake loomed. Hell hath no fury as a woman substituted.
“No, thank you.”
“What?” She leant on the ship’s rail, taking stock.
“No, thank you.” I tried to look abashed, embarrassed, brave but melancholic. A bidden blush never comes, does it? It’s only when I try to seem supercool that I go red. “I know you’re out of my reach, Gina. I’ll not settle for less.”
“Of all the…” Her anger faded. She turned away. “Get below and clean up. You look like a derelict.”
I went inside to find Tye, more cheerful than I’d been. I’d risen in Gina’s esteem. And my determination to stay pure needn’t last more than a few minutes. There were several maids laying for a party on the upper deck arena. As long as Gina didn’t find out. She’d not want me to lower my standards.
The engines started and nautical sequences began. We were going on voyage.
“CHICO, Spic, Nigruh, mean colour, Lovejoy.” Tye Dee was swilling a whisky while I showered. (Dear USA: need your showers be so forceful they slam you against the tiles?)
Colour? How could Busman’s colour help? There couldn’t be more than one with that nickname. I soaped industriously with a loofah. Lice are simple to shed. Damage the fragile little things and they’ve had it.
“Another thing, Lovejoy. Orly and Mrs. Aquilina are… friends. So’s Jennie and Nicko. Okay?”
That halted my scrubbing for a second. I resumed, slower. “Thanks, Tye.”
“And ya get took, ya phone Gordino. Okay?”
God, but whisky stinks foul in the early morning. Its aroma almost made me gag. I’d bagged my clothes in plastic, and tied the neck. A crewman’s gear was laid out on the bunk. My second job, at last? Dressed, I went and lost my way a dozen times.
Breakfast was gigantic even by American standards. Gina finally came, had an ounce of orange juice and three grapes. Orly had a couple of pancakes. Nicko had a croissant and coffee. I had hash browns — thick fried mash — and everything within reach. Three times I narrowly escaped having syrup poured over it all.
During the gargantuan nosh I tried asking where we were going. The Hudson? No, for we were amid several islands. The Statue of Liberty, and us turning away northwards, bridges ahead and a crowded mass of habitations to the right.
Gina was being amused. “How marvellous to see you eat, Lovejoy! The galley will be delighted.”
Well, there was no telling where my next meal would come from. And you can’t muck hunger about, or any other appetite for that matter.
