S.O.S. (7 page)

‘That is the
last
,' she quietly fumed, as they walked on through (and she meant it, you know, as David most certainly could have assured you). ‘That is positively the very last time I am showing that thing. Maybe on board they could take another one, a better one, do you think so? David? Hm?'

David thought
No
, you silly vain and idle cow, of course they bloody couldn't – and what the hell does it matter anyway? It's only a bloody
card
: not going on the cover of
Vogue
, is it?

‘Maybe,' he said.

God: she was just the same when she put on all that weight, that time. Nicole blamed the pills, which had completely thrown David altogether because most of the pills she put down her throat – and don't ask me, please, what the
others
were for – were meant to be all about
slimming
.

‘Does this dress make me look sort of – big?' How many times a day did he have to counter that one? ‘David: tell me honestly. Because I can't see me, can I? From certain angles. So does it, hm? This dress? Make me look, you know – on the big side?'

‘No,' he said.

And he had meant it. The
dress
didn't make her look anything at all. I mean, let's be perfectly plain: the dress was entirely innocent, here. Jesus Christ Almighty, woman – why shove blame on the bloody
dress
?

*

Jennifer and Stacy sipped their Cokes and eyed with quasi-irritation (more of a sense of Hoi – what's this, then?) the thickening trickle of would-be voyagers being eagerly ushered away into yet another corridor, at the very end of which, maybe – unless all this boarding malarkey was in truth no more than a sadly misplaced and elongated gag – the bloody
Transylvania
might actually be docked and waiting, who knew?

‘How come they get to go and we don't?'

‘It's bloody annoying. I should imagine, Stacy, they're posher than we are. We have to wait for … what did she tell us? Bat at the door? Till they announce Five, was it? That's the downside of going steerage, I suppose.'

‘Six, I think. What's it say on the tickets? I think she said Six.'

‘No – it was Five, I remember. Anyway – they're only on Two, so God alone knows …'

‘
Sure
she said Six …'

‘You looking forward? God – look at that boy: he's still looking, you know. He must have a number Two ticket – his lot's going through. Rich dad, I expect.'

‘What boy?'

‘Oh God just listen to you! Honestly, Stacy! What
boy
! You know very well he was looking – I watched you.'

‘Don't know what boy you're talking about.'

‘Well if you don't want him, I wouldn't mind. He looks quite sweet. Do you know … I think you could be right.'

‘What about? And don't start on about
boys
. Do you want another Coke? We could be here for days.'

‘She
did
say Six, I'm pretty sure. Yeh – could be weeks, this rate. Well he
was
quite sweet. Looked sort of lost.'

‘He was only a kid.'

‘How do you know, Stacy? You didn't see him, did you? Don't even know what boy I'm
talking
about …'

‘Look – do you want a Coke or not? I'm getting one, anyway.'

‘Don't sulk.'

‘I'm not sul – oh God, are you going to be like this for the whole of the bloody trip, or what? It's a real drag, when you start like this.'

‘Don't think we're
going
on a trip. I think we're going to spend the whole of the week cooped up in this bloody great hangar, or whatever they call it. OK – let's get another Coke. Least they're free. Maybe we should try and nick a whole bagful – take them on the boat.'

‘Why? They'll have Coke on the boat, won't they? Thought they had everything.'

‘Oh yeh they'll
have
it. They'll
have
it all right. It's just Christ knows what they're going to
cost
, yeh? It's only the grub that's all in, remember, and I told you, God, how totally bloody broke we are. I think that all I'm going to do till we get to New York is eat. I've decided. I'm going to eat and eat and eat until I bloody well explode. Maybe then I won't have to buy food for the rest of the year.'

‘We could've saved money by
flying
… They've got Tango as well. Want a Tango?'

‘Yeh well. I don't fly. As well you know. Anyway – flying, you don't get all the food, yeh? Tango's fine. No, actually – think I'll stick with Coke.'

‘Worried about mixing your drinks?'

‘Oh
don't
! I'd just bloody kill for a huge gin and tonic right
now
. We'll just have to work bloody hard tonight and find some nice rich gentleman to buy them for us. You giggle – I'll wiggle: that should do it. You know – I don't know if I've really brought the right
things
for the – you know, for the evenings.'

Stacy shrugged, and ripped her ring-pull. ‘What we've got is short and black. Don't really see the problem. Bloody hell – it's really gassy, this stuff. Don't much like.'

‘Oh God – look! Hally-bloody-loolia! They've just
changed the Two to a Three. Christ. How long is it going to be before they get to bloody Six? I should think that
Five
is probably the cargo and the livestock and the cars. Then they'll get to bloody
us
. Oh look, Stacy – those seats are empty, now – let's get them. I'm knackered, all this bloody hanging about.'

‘You take my bag – I'll get the drinks.'

‘Anyway,' resumed Jennifer – more or less as soon as the two of them were pretty much settled into a pair of bright green plastic bucket seats (they should, she had muttered – while her face went Oh Yuck as she shoved the last people's coffee cups well under the table – have laid on four-bloody-poster beds, they keep you waiting about so long). ‘I hope the general level of men on the boat is higher than this lot round here. Think, Stacy, we ought to concentrate on the number Twos. Hey – what do you think the number
Ones
are going to be like? We didn't even
see
any of those, did we? They were probably carried on earlier in those chairs, what are they? Sedan chair things. Or lowered from a helicopter.'

‘The way you go on, you know, people might think that you're looking for a husband. Isn't that what old women are meant to do on cruises and stuff? How very cute.'

‘Less of the bloody
old
, bloody Stacy. Thirty-nine – that's hardly decrepit, is it? Not exactly
ancient
. We can't
all
be sweet and fresh and young like
you
, bloody Stacy. Anyway – don't
feel
thirty-nine. Feel like some dopey kid, most of the time.'

‘Look like a dopey kid. It's weird you don't age. What're you on?'

‘Mm. I sometimes think that everything's put on hold to get me nice and used to it, yeh? And then the minute I hit forty I'll just simply self-destruct – quite literally fall to pieces. Just hope I'm not in Tesco when it happens.'

‘You're totally
nuts
 – you do know that?'

‘And God – don't please talk to me about
husbands
. The
last two, thank you, were quite enough for one little lifetime, I think. I just – if I'm honest, you know, I just don't understand why on earth people still do go and get married. Don't you do it, Stace – it messes up your life, telling you.'

‘Never
stop
telling me, do you? Yeh but look – your last so-called marriage is hardly
typical
, is it? How long were you actually together?'

Jennifer held her lips briefly ajar and wagged her head quite slowly.

‘Seemed like a century. Thing was, though – oh Christ look! Four! They've got up to Four! telling you – might get on that boat before I'm forty. If not,
they
can pick up the bloody bits. What was I …?'

‘Your blissful second marriage.'

‘Oh yeh. Roger. Thing is, though, Stacy – I really did love that guy when I, you know – married him. Or I
thought
I did, anyway. Maybe I didn't. But when I actually, you know – the actual day of the wedding – well
you
remember: it was really great, wasn't it? Sun shining, and everything …'

‘You looked fab.'

‘
Felt
fab – felt it. Quite possibly the happiest day of my life, if I'm honest. Just like it's meant to be – like it is in the movies. But then, oh God – it all seemed to go downhill more or less immediately. Even before the honeymoon ended, it all began. Staying out late, at first – and then not coming back at all till the next bloody day. Drink, of course … violence – quite a lot of violence, actually.'

‘God …'

Jennifer grinned widely, now: quite her most roguish.

‘Yeh,' she agreed. ‘I was really
awful
: don't know how he stood it.'

‘
You
,' smiled Stacy, ‘should be shot.'

‘That's more or less what Roger said, poor sod. Anyway, he did, give him his due – he did put up with me for as long as he could, and we sort of, God knows how – jogged along together. But the
boredom
! Well – I've told you all this. Know it backwards. There was all the doubt and anger, you see, Stacy. Roger's. Which are a killer, of course. And then the, well – betrayal. Mine. Yes, OK. But mostly I just remember the awful awful eternal
boredom
!'

‘Poor little you.'

‘You're right. Telling you – ooh! Ooh look – they're up to
Five
. Oh look – bugger this. We're Five – I've decided. Can't hang around this bloody dump any longer. We're Five – let's go. What was I …?'

‘Still with the blissful marriage.'

‘Oh yeh – my bloody awful marriage. Don't forget your jacket. Coming? Got everything, yeh? Yeh, that marriage. Telling you – longest bloody month of my life.'

Stacy laughed, and reached across to kiss Jennifer hard on the lips.

‘You know what?' she said. ‘You're the craziest mother on earth.
None
of my friends have got a mother like you. You're utterly, totally
nuts.'

‘Poor friends,' smiled Jennifer. ‘Lucky you. Come on, sweet child of mine – Christ's sake let's get on this fucking
boat
, OK?'

*

‘Oh God I don't
believe
it,' was all Jennifer frankly could manage. ‘It's
another
bloody queue up another bloody ramp that leads to bloody nowhere. God Almighty – it would have been quicker to
walk
to America.'

A smallish man with a damn big smile wheeled around to face her from just in front, managing to bash his olive green rucksack into Stacy's face as he did so.

‘Always chock-a-block at this stage, dear lady. Is that not correct, Captain Honeybunch?'

As Aggie grinned her practically ga-ga complicity, Jennifer and Stacy gazed at Nobby wide-eyed, each of them willing the other to be still, not quite yet dissolve or explode –
Stacy praying the while that her mother would not please unleash on this silly little man one of her torrents (because well, just look at her – patience was shot, you could see that); he maybe meant well, yes? Only, after all, trying to be
nice
…

‘Chock-a-
block
,' continued Nobby, quite chattily, ‘is actually a nautical term, I don't know if you're aware? Oh yes. ‘Block', you know, is a seaman's term for a pulley – a pulley, yes? Up and down? While ‘chock', you see, is the term employed when, as it were, rendering it solid. So when two, so to say, pulley blocks have been hoisted right up to the point where no further purchase may be directly obtained, we reach a stage where we are in a very literal sense, full to capacity, if you follow. Chock-a-block. Interesting.'

Aggie nodded wildly. ‘Nobby knows all the terms,' she assured them. ‘Ask him anything. Really knows the ropes. I'm Aggie, by the way, and this is my husband Nobby.' And then she snapped to attention and saluted. ‘Safe passage, shipmates!'

‘Nobby …' repeated Jennifer, very slowly – and she could have been either held, or drifting. ‘I'm, er – Jennifer – this is Stacy.'

‘Charmed,' said Nobby. ‘And a little while back there when my trusty Captain advised you that I ‘know the ropes', yes? You recall? This term in fact dates back to the days when the rigging on one of the larger sailing vessels could comprise, oh – quite literally miles of rope, you know.'

‘Really?' put in Stacy, quickly (Jennifer had that look in her eye).

‘Quite literally
miles
of rope,' Nobby assured her. ‘Well of course it was often vital that each and every one should be identified correctly and at considerable speed, this much is plain, and therefore an old ‘hand' – crewman, yes? An old ‘salt' – same thing – was said to, and here it comes: know the
ropes
. Fascinating, isn't it?'

‘It's …' Jennifer managed. Maybe she was going to say more – possibly here was just the sum total. Either way, Aggie was talking, now:

‘That's what
we
are, really, at this game, now. Old hands. We just love this ship, don't we Nobby?'

‘Love her.'

‘How many times we've sailed on her, Nobby?'

‘This crossing will comprise our seventeenth voyage on this particular liner – which is, in my humble opinion, the very finest.
QE2
also, of course – very fine ship. They're building a new
Queen Mary
, you know, and needless to say we've booked up for the maiden voyage, have we not, love? About two years, they reckon. But there'll never be anything quite like the
Transylvania
. Very special place in our affections.'