1 Shore Excursion (16 page)

“
We may
never know how it was managed
, Chet
. No one
has
reported seeing anything. The time of death was
placed
by Dr. Sledge as
‘s
ometime during the wee hours of the morning
.
’
That’s
between
mid watch and first watch
, when most of the
crew and passengers on the ship are
sleeping.
I guess now
they
c
an
call that time of night
on this ship ‘t
he dead man’s watch
.
’
”

“Thank you for that
spooky
little
spin on
nautical
terms
, Sidney.
I love thinking of that.
”

“I’m just saying
…”

“
Speaking of spooky, w
ant to hear something funny?
Some
of the old ladies think that the dancer
was cursed or something because she worked in the Broadway Showroom. There are rumors swirling that it is haunted.
”

“Haunted?
How
ridiculous
is that?
Where did they get that idea?”

“From some tale they were told on the ship’s tour. You know how those things go, Sidney. Add a good ghost story to a tour and you can always jazz it up. Maria Petrone gave the Haunted Showroom story a boost, too
. S
he
swore
that she heard weird voices
late at night
coming from the Showroom
as she headed back
to her room from the casino.
I wish it was haunted.
I love
d the big shows on my first few cruises but I’m bored with them now.
Those shows get pretty tired
when you see the same one
, night after night
, cruise after cruise
.
That’s the only drawback I’ve found to the Glass Slipper.
After a
while
, no surprises.
”

He paused.
“Tonight
’s
special
treat
will
be g
reat
, though,” he said. “Would you like to go to Tivoli Gardens with me?
I don’t think I can stand another evening
of
dancing with
the Levy sisters.”

“I’d love to,” I said, “but when we get back from this tour there won’t be time for Tivoli.
We’re sailing at
five o’clock
.”

“Oh, no, we’re not,” he replied.
“Didn’t you hear the captain’s announcement this morning?
We’re going to stay in Copenhagen at least until midnight.
The ship can’t sail until the Danes finish the paperwork on Bostick and the deckhand, or, as the captain put it, ‘until certain formalities have been completed.’
”

“I didn’t hear it.
I overslept.”

I wondered why I hadn’t
been given
notice
of the itinerary change
. If the Captain expected me to
be a part of his team and
follow his orders, the least he could do was keep me informed.

“Well, because of the delay, we have to blow off Helsinki on Friday to stay on schedule for St. Petersburg,” he continued. “
T
o make it up to
the
passengers
, they
are being treated to a night at Tivoli.”

He stood up, dusted off the back of his pants, and lit a cigarette.
“Come with me to Tivoli, Sidney, to the best amusement park in all of Europe.
Forget
the serious stuff and
all these dull people for one night.
We’ll have fun.”

I thought about Jay and the captain and the whole mess
.
A
night at Tivoli away from it all sounded pretty good.

In fact, it sounded great.

“Sold
!
I’ll meet you at the bottom of the gangway at
eight
.”

A
t
the next castle,
Kronbo
rg
,
I stood on the high north wall at the top of the great stone tower overlooking the sea, watching the sun glitter on the strait of Oresund.
Sweden was clearly visible on the far shore.

A Russian freighter passed
fully loaded with her hull deep in the water, bound for St. Petersburg, I supposed, followed by a Silja Lines ferry.
A lone fisherman sat in a small wooden boat, rocking in the wake of the great ships.

Something flashed in the sun.
Was the fisherman trying to signal his presence to the ships’ captains?
I would be signaling
if
those giant ships
were
bearing down on me.
I would be waving my arms and hollering big time.

Below me, the Murphy family stood on the path at the water’s edge, photographing
one
an
other
using a big, old-fashioned camera, with
first the sea, then the castle, as a back
drop
.
Their camera flashed again and again.

Didn’t they realize that the castle was too big
and
they were too close
for it to
show up
?
People take the
most random
pictures on trips
and
then wonder why their friends nod off when forced to view them.

I moved to my right, from the shadow into the sun, and found
Fernando
leaning on the p
arapet.
Through his binoculars h
e was watching the
ships and the Murphys
,
too
.
Morgan was
nowhere in sight.

“Well, hello, Sidney,” he said without turning.
“You move very quietly, like one of th
e ghosts that haunt this castle.
And may I say that you look lovely today, much prettier tha
n
a spirit.
”

“If I am a ghost,
Fernando
, then perhaps you are, too.
But not, I think, the prince of Denmark.”

He laughed softly and lowered his binoculars
, turning to face me
.
It was the first time in the entire trip that I had seen him
really relaxed
.
H
is dark eyes
were
warm with amusement.
He look
ed
pretty good himself,
in his white shirt and dark blue jacket, silhouetted against the bright blue sky.

“No, I am not the prince of Denmark, Sidney.
Far from it.
You’ll have to look f
a
rther to find your Hamlet.”

“And I was wrong.
” he said, sudd
enly very close to me, “
t
hough you move
as quietly as
a mouse, you are no ghost either, are you?”

Startled, I took a step backward, away from him, and clumsily stumbled over a rock, almost falling onto the parapet.

He caught me easily, laughing out loud now, breaking my fall.
I looked up at him, wondering what it would be like to kiss him, and he knew it.
I could see it in his eyes.
My face burned redder than Brooke Shyler’s hair.

“Come with me to Tivoli tonight, Sidney, after you tuck those dreadful peop
le into their beds.
You’ll learn that I’m not a ghost
,
that I am very much alive.
I think you will enjoy
the evening
.”

I looked down and saw the Murphys staring at us, mouths open.
I shook his hand from my left arm, tried to summon some dignity, and stared at my watch as if it were made of rubies.

“
Thanks, but I can’t, I’m busy,” I stammered.
Standing next to
him
like that
made me inexplicably nervous. “
Oh, my goodness!
,” I blurted, “
Look at the time!
The group will be at the bus in
twenty
minutes.
We must be going.”

I turned to start back down the stone steps, but
his left hand
shot out to take
my arm
again
and
reel me in
.

“Have dinner with me tonight at Tivoli, Sidney, won’t you?
I can
promise you a memorable
evening
.
”

“I can’t,” I said, looking up at him, “I promised Chet that I would go with him.”

“Well,
when
you change your mind
,” he said, releasing me, “
and
I
hope
you will,
I
’ll
have a table for two reserved at The Peacock
for
nine o’clock.
Nine o’clock.
Don’t forget.
I’ll be there
,
waiting.”

W
ithout a word
, I
started down the winding stairs, tripping again, almost missing a step in my haste.

His
teasing
voice
echoed behind me
.
“Be careful, lovely Grace, it’s very dangerous.
T
here might not be anyone there to catch you next time.
Remember, nine o’clock.
I’ll be expecting you.”

I rushed down the path to the bus, almost knocking down Muriel Murphy in my haste, stewing to myself over
the conceit of the m
en
in
my life
—
Fernando
,
Chet,
Captain Vargos
, even Jay
.

Men!
I steamed,
Either I have no guys in my life or too many.
And each of them is convinced that he is the greatest
.
I can’t deal with this.
It’s way
too complicated.
I’m going to quit this jo
b and go to work at Macy
’s
just as soon as I get back to New York
.
In the maternity
department, where I won’
t
have to
deal
much
with
men.
Or maybe I could go back to school and learn to run a mammogram machine
.

An old nun in dusty black vestments sat on a bench outside the courtyard wall, her gnarled hands twirling wooden spindles as she wove coarse thread into delicate lace.

She lifted her head as I blasted by her, nodding to me with a slight smile, making the sign of the cross
to give me her
blessing
,
as if she could read my thoughts and found herself in total agreement.

I need all the blessings I can get
, I thought.
Maybe I won’t go back at all
. Maybe I’ll
just find a good convent around here
somewhere
, take my vows, and spend the rest of my life with the kind sisters,
peacefully
making
lace
.

I was
among
the last one
s
on the bus, not a good thing for a tour host.
Gertrude and the Murphys would probably write me up.
I thought I caught Muriel glaring at me, though Muriel was generally so strange anyway that it was hard to tell.

In my haste, I didn’t even stop
at
the gift shop or the bathroom, just climbed the bus steps and plopped down next to Kirsten, closing my eyes.

She
began her
bright and cheery monologue. The stragglers filed in,
Fernando
included, and the bus backed out of the parking lot and headed back to Copenhagen.

Hannah and Ethel
had
spent far too much time
at the Kronborg gift shop
selecting troll dolls for
t
he
i
r grandchildren, so we were almost forty minutes late arriving at the pier.

By that time, I deeply regretted skipping the restroom break.
Back at the ship, I was last in the long, slow line on the gangway through security
. W
hen I was finally aboard I rushed down the stairs and corridor of
B D
eck
.

I unlocked the cabin, flung my bag on the bed and
,
unbuttoning my pants, jerked open the bathroom door.

Jay stood at the sink, shaving, a towel wrapped around his waist.
“Well hello, Nancy Drew.
Thank you for knocking.
How’s it going?
Caught the murderer yet?”

“I’ll be back when you’re finished, smartass.
Don’t use all the towels.”

I slammed the door and blasted back down the hall
and up the stairs
to the ladies’ room outside of the Crystal
Dining Room.

When I re-emerged, Maria Petrone stood just outside the dining room door, studying the evening menu placard on the gold easel.

“How does it look
to you, Maria?
” I said.
“Delicious?”

“Man, yeah, it does.
It says Danish Middag.
What is a middag?
I never heard of no middag, did you?
But whatever it is, it looks great. I don’t know what I’ll pick for my main course.
”
She leaned closer to the placard, squinting at the calligraphy.
“I might have the roast pork with red cabbage and some of the poached salmon, too. Gladys Murphy says that it’s ok
ay
to have both.
Then ‘apple dumpling with warm cream and a hint of schnapps.’ I love apple dumpling.
Mario will take the steak.
He always takes the steak, no matter what night it is. What are you having?”

I studied the menu.

“Hard to say, Maria. With so many selections it’s difficult to choose, isn’t it?
But I’ll be eating light tonight or not at all.
There is great food at Tivoli.
Aren’t you going?”

“Nah.
I been to Coney Island plenty of times.”

“Oh, but Maria, it’s not like that,
really, nothing like that
.
Tivoli is much nicer. It is special.
”

“I hear what you say, Sidney, but I don’t want to go.
Nuts to that.
I told my Angelo, I ain’t missing my high-dollar middag and show for no amusement park.
You young people go and have a good time.
Tell me all about it when you get back.
But I ain’t chowing down on no hot dog and pop tonight.
No, ma’am.
I can do that back in Queens.”

“Miss Marsh is quite right, Maria. Tivoli is delightful.”

Brooke Shyler joined us,
impeccably
dressed in black silk pants and a white shirt that I guessed was from Agnes B.

She and Maxine Johnson hel
d nearly empty champagne flutes
.
They had just come from the Starlight Lounge, where the Mariner’s Club party for returning passengers was in full swing.

“You must go, Maria,” she
insisted
, with Maxine nodding in agreement. “Everyone loves Tivoli.
They always have,
ever
since it was built back in 1841 by permission of the king.
Hans Christian Anderson wrote about it in
“
The Nightingale.
”
It’s very romantic.
You and Angelo should go and ride the swan boats or the carousel.
You could have a schnapps and watch the fireworks.
It’s lovely
.
Maxine, tell her.”

“It’s really not like an ordinary amusement park, Maria,” Maxine said. “Fred and I wouldn’t miss it, and neither should you. Especially for a pork roast.”

I hoped
Brooke and Maxine
would
convince Maria
. I
f many of the others
embraced
the Petrone
s’
reasoning, only a small group of High Steppers
would be
going on the evening excursion
,
and I hated for them to miss the unexpected treat.