Dastardly Deeds (4 page)

Everyone fell silent. Scott put down the crackling and wiped his hands on a napkin. His chin glistened.

Finally Deb spoke. ‘Oh, yes. That was Anna. She was killed six months after we all graduated.’

‘Two thousand three hundred and thirty-one people died on the roads that year,’ said Phoebe. Her eyes were a pale blue. ‘I’ll never forget that number. Anna was the odd one at the end. Just wrong.’

Deb nodded slowly. I noticed her sneaking a glance at Scott.

‘She had everything,’ said Donald, his voice hardening. ‘Everything.’

Deb nodded again. ‘That’s true. She was smart and funny and drop-dead gorgeous. And she’d just landed this amazing job in international women’s aid.’

Scott pushed back his chair. ‘I reckon it’s time for a drink. Anyone else?’

After a second’s hesitation, Donald stood also, followed by Phoebe. She picked up a fringed lilac bag.

‘I’ll give the drink a miss. I’m off to the thalassotherapy pool to re-centre myself.’ She turned to me. ‘It was nice to meet you, Nell. And sorry we were such downers. We’re usually a lot more fun.’

‘Oh, totally understandable. Not a problem.’

‘I’ll grab us some coffee,’ said Deb as the others left. Phoebe had the gangly gait of a newborn calf, courtesy of long legs and wide hips. I pushed her half-eaten meal aside and slid into her seat, so that I could see the sea. The islands had now disappeared and rippled blue stretched all the way to the horizon. I finished my meal in silence, mulling over the conversation. They were an interesting group. None of them really seemed to fit with the other, but they clearly had the bonds of long acquaintance. It was amazing how a brief sliver of time spent together in youth could turn into long-term friendships. But they were also quite an unlucky group, with two of the original six having now died.
Stats suggest high risk of death among university graduates with ‘A’ names. Abigail and Adam a little worried.

I suddenly remembered Ashley, and the reason I had been in the buffet in the first place. It occurred to me that I didn’t need to look for Lew at all. I had his wife right here. Right on cue she put a coffee before me and sat down with a sigh. ‘I’ve got to touch base with Lew in a few minutes but I
need
coffee. Bit too much to drink last night.’

‘You and me both.’ I took a sip. It was not pleasant. ‘Your friends seem nice.’

‘They are. And Phoebe was right, they’re usually a lot more fun. We’re all pretty gutted at the moment.’

‘I can imagine,’ I hesitated for a moment. ‘Listen, is anyone else joining us on this trip?’

‘Why?’

I regarded her thoughtfully. ‘That’s a funny response. Okay, I’ll be more direct. Is Ashley Armistead joining us on this trip?’

Deb leant back in her chair. She was grinning. ‘Would that be a bad thing?’

‘Yes.’

‘Your mouth says one thing but your eyes say another.’

‘Actually, my eyes are just angry. Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?’

She looked a little embarrassed. ‘It was all very last minute, only became definite about a month ago. And Lew asked me not to say anything. You were so annoyed after Darcy and Tess came on board that he thought you’d pull the pin altogether.’

‘He was right. Bloody hell, Deb. When’s he arriving?’

‘Day after tomorrow.’ She pushed her coffee away. ‘That’s awful. Look, I’d better go. Sorry, Nell, there really wasn’t much I could do. Tell you what, if it gets too awkward, just join up with my group instead. Hey, what do you think of Donald? He’s single.’

I stared at her, my irritation escalating. ‘So what? Do I
look
like I’m desperate or something? If I’d wanted that sort of cruise, I would have gone with Contiki.’

‘I don’t know that you’d enjoy Contiki. Bit of a young crowd there. And what’s wrong with Donald?’

‘Apart from the fact he’s gay? Even for someone as old and desperate as me, that’s a bit of a stretch.’

‘Actually, I don’t think he is gay. April always said he was but, if so, he’s pretty closeted. Maybe you could test the theory.’

‘You’d better quit while you’re ahead.’

‘You’re right.’ She grinned ruefully as she stood. ‘But the whole thing with Ashley is Lew’s fault. Blame him.’

‘Oh, I will. Tell me one thing: if he wanted to go on the cruise, why wasn’t he here from the start?’

‘Couldn’t. Something to do with work. They’re flying straight to Turkey instead. Now, I’m off. I’ll tell Lew to avoid you for a while.’

I watched her weave her way around the tables and then transferred my gaze to the view. The longer I stared, the more it blurred into a paint sample. I wasn’t just annoyed by the news about Ashley and the fact they had kept it from me, but also by the light-hearted way Deb had delivered it. As if I was prone to overreaction and any normal person would be absolutely fine with their ex-boyfriend and his current partner joining them on a cruise. Along with her ex-husband and
his
current partner, of course. I decided to send Lew an email when I got back to my cabin, letting him know the names of the two guys I had gone out with before meeting Darcy. Perhaps he would like to look them up and invite them, along with their significant others, to join us on the cruise. Why go for half measures? After all, in for a penny, in for a bloody pound.

Sympathy from my sister was in short supply. She was heartily amused by the situation. This was probably fuelled by the fact she quite liked Ashley and felt that I hadn’t negotiated hard enough for a ‘friends with benefits’ relationship. She was wrong. I would have loved our relationship to continue but it hadn’t been an option. Not on my terms anyway.

Mid-afternoon we settled in a pair of deckchairs on the upper deck, with a view of the sea on one side and the pool on the other. That was where we remained for the rest of the day and much of the evening. After two generous scotches, I began to see the humour in my situation also. It was the sort of thing you saw on a television sitcom and thought, ‘Well,
that
wouldn’t happen.’ I shared this insight with Petra, who then derived a great deal of enjoyment from calling ‘Action!’ every so often. We got some odd looks, plus a few hopeful ones from men who thought she was making a request rather than a comment.

At dinnertime, instead of going to the restaurant, we treated the buffet as a takeaway and returned to the deckchairs. The only alteration was the move from scotch to wine. Others joined us briefly from time to time. Quinn and Griffin, holding hands self-consciously; Enid Hurley, in a floral muumuu; Deb and Phoebe, on their way to the gym; Lyn Russo, taking a promenade in her finery before attending the formal meal; and Lew, with an apology posy that looked suspiciously like it might have been a table centrepiece.

Mostly, though, we just talked, catching up on each other’s lives. Relationships, family, inertia, aspirations. When the evening turned cool, we moved to the balcony off our room, wrapped in complimentary candlewick dressing-gowns. From there we could just hear the music floating from the piano bar and just see the white water churning along the side of the ship, far below. The tranquillity was as intoxicating as the wine. I hadn’t felt this content for a long time.

The following day continued in the same vein. Starting with breakfast in bed, delicious in every way apart from the coffee, and followed by a trip to the health spa, where Ruby, Petra and I were pampered with a facial, massage, manicure and pedicure. In a way it would have been the perfect time to talk things over with Ruby, but even the thought seemed to clash with our surroundings. The indulgence was almost overwhelming. Real life was miles away, not just a different continent but a different world. The day rolled on, with a gentle cadence that was reminiscent of the sea itself.

That evening I visited the restaurant for the first time. Crystal and silver and gleaming white porcelain, chandeliers sparkling above burgundy carpets, wine waiters and service waiters and a maître d’ who was everywhere at once. Our group had been allocated a large table that overlooked a sweeping staircase. I could see Deb and her friends at a smaller table on the lower floor. The restaurant was only half full, with the Anzac dawn service, scheduled for the following morning, having led many to opt for a quiet evening. Lyn Russo was the exception, making the most of her final night aboard ship. On the way back to our room we passed her in the piano bar, cocktail in hand, collecting signatures on a napkin to petition the band to play ‘Nutbush City Limits’.

I spared her a wry thought as the alarm went off the following morning at 4.45 am. The dawn service was held on the upper deck, a sombre yet oddly exhilarating experience. As the sun crested the horizon, it became clear that we were in the mouth of a cove, bracketed by hills in the distance. Anzac Cove, where a century ago Australian soldiers and their Turkish opponents had died in the thousands. The service finished with the bugle playing the last post, and the haunting notes seemed to echo across the water and into the stillness of history.

There was ample time afterwards for showers, followed by breakfast. By nine o’clock, Petra and I, with the girls, joined the throng of sensibly shod passengers heading down to disembarkation. I filched muffins from the buffet on the way, secreting them in my handbag. Soon we were walking along the dock in the direction of a staggered row of tourist buses. It felt strange to be on shore once more. I already felt homesick for the ship.

It was easy to pick our bus as Lew was parked by the front door, alongside most of our fellow travellers. There was also a stocky man holding a sign that read
TAYLOR GROUP
.

‘Sounds like an investment portfolio,’ muttered Petra.

‘Welcome!’ Lew was beaming. ‘Come, gather round. We’ll just wait for everyone else and then I’ve got a few words to say.’

‘Did you sleep in?’ asked Yen, eyeing Petra and me.

I felt my serenity slipping. ‘It’s just gone nine. We’re actually early.’

Her gaze slipped upwards. ‘That is my
least
favourite of your hats. It looks like a floral tribute. Have you heard from Lucy? I emailed her yesterday about the shop and haven’t heard back.’

‘No, and thanks.’ I straightened my felt hat self-consciously, tucking my hair back. I’d thought it went rather well with my cargos and a coral-pink T-shirt.

‘Hello, all!’ Tessa had joined us, Darcy grinning by her side. Behind them I could see Lyn Russo approaching, in dark sunglasses, and also, rather surprisingly, Deb Taylor and her reunion friends.

‘Okay, so we’re all here.’ Lew waited for the latecomers to join us and then wheeled forward and spun in a tight semicircle to ensure he had everyone’s attention. ‘First of all, I’d like to introduce you to our tour guide for the day, Ali.’

The stocky man smiled genially. He had a deeply receding hairline and a tuft of dark hair in the centre, like an unfortunate island.

‘And now for the not-so-good news. I know you were all looking forward to touring Gallipoli today, on Anzac Day, and then Troy tomorrow. But Ali tells me that there’re lengthy delays with the ferry and it’ll be about a three-hour wait both ways. So I’ve made the executive decision to reverse our order. Do Troy today instead and Gallipoli tomorrow when the crowds are less. I do apologise, but it really was the only option.’

‘Dictatorship,’ sniffed Enid from behind me.

‘Oh
good
,’ said Lyn Russo. ‘Now Michael will be with us for Gallipoli. He won’t be here till this afternoon,’ she explained to anybody who was interested. ‘His meeting was delayed. Couldn’t be helped.’

‘Now for some better news,’ continued Lew. ‘Our group today has expanded.’

I was suddenly sure that Ashley was right behind me. My spine tingled.

‘Of course you all know my wife Deb.’ Lew waved an arm in her direction. ‘And I’d also like to introduce her friends, Scott Quartermain, Don Barrow and Phoebe Gould. There were some problems with their booked tour so they’ll be joining us today and also tomorrow. And now, let’s go!’

I turned around but there was no one there. Ali was helping Lew with the wheelchair lift at the rear of the bus as I joined the queue at the steps. I followed Tessa into the bus, her rounded butt just inches from my face. Once inside, I took the seat beside Petra. Deb and Phoebe were directly across the aisle. I leant over.

‘What happened to your tour?’

Deb grimaced. ‘We think April’s son cancelled her trip from Rome. Unfortunately, she’d made all the bookings for us so they’ve gone also.’

‘Damn. So you’ve lost your payments?’

‘Not sure, but insurance will take care of it. In the meantime we’ve had to scramble to rebook everything. It was too late for these ones. Love the hat, Nell.’

‘I’m sure her son didn’t mean anything by it.’ Phoebe ducked forward. ‘Just one of those things. Must have been so hard for him. The grief and all.’

‘He didn’t seem all that grief-stricken.’ Deb gave me a look that underscored her comment. ‘And he certainly moved quick with the cancellations.’

I twisted around and could see Donald and Scott farther down the bus. Enid, opposite, appeared to have connected their presence with the change in our plans and was now tersely explaining why she was not happy. The two men looked a little stunned.

The road to the ancient city of Troy threaded through bucolic farmland. Occasionally a stocky couple could be seen tending crops, their clothing earth-toned and the women wearing kerchiefs. They looked like they had stepped straight out of a painting. Ali, the tour guide, kept up a running patter about the countryside. Apart from some interesting information about the local university, which was named 18
^th
March University after a famous battle, a lot of his conversation seemed to involve olives. My handbag was raided by Quinn, the muffins vanishing before we had even begun the climb towards Troy. Soon afterwards we trundled into a car park that was dominated by a large wooden horse with an undersized head. We tumbled out of the bus and immediately separated as half the group headed towards the horse and the other half admired a heavily pregnant cat that was sunning itself on the asphalt.

Quinn and Griffin Russo had already disappeared inside the horse by the time I got there. I could hear their laughter echoing from within and minutes later their heads were poking out from a window high on the horse’s back.

‘So picture this.’ Donald stopped by me, peering upwards. ‘You’ve been under siege for years when suddenly your enemy vanishes and instead a massive wooden horse appears outside the city gates. Your first response is to fling them open and, instead of just going to have a look, drag the whole thing inside the city. You’d have to assume they weren’t all that bright.’

I grinned, a little surprised. I hadn’t taken him for a particularly chatty guy. ‘Maybe they were trying for that year’s Darwin Award.’

‘I blame Brad Pitt,’ said Petra, joining us.

Enid, who was passing with her brother, stopped to nod. ‘Yes, but no. It was really that female with the fat lips. Wasn’t much he could do when she threw herself all over him. Tramp.’

Uncle Jim looked embarrassed. He peered around for Yen.

Petra turned her laugh into a cough. ‘Wrong movie. I was talking about
Troy
.’

‘Anyway—’ I was frowning ‘—that’s ridiculous. Angelina Jolie wasn’t the one who was married. I don’t care if she stripped off and wrapped herself around him like a belt, he could have said no. Men don’t get a free ride just because they’re men.’

‘Except when they do,’ said Petra.

‘What’s up?’ asked Darcy cheerfully. He was holding hands with Tessa.

I gave him a disgusted look and turned on my heel. As I left, I could hear Donald asking Petra if it was something he’d said.

Ali and Lew had just finished organising our entry so I waited with them until everybody had finished either climbing the horse or admiring it.

Ruby looked at me anxiously. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Is it something Dad did?’

I smiled reassuringly and shook my head. I was touched by her concern, and her intuition, but this did not involve her.

We followed Ali around the corner onto a paved walkway that was flanked by the crumbled walls of Troy. He immediately launched into a practised spiel, although much of it seemed to be about construction rather than mythology. I paused to read the signs that were planted along the walkway, giving context to the roughly two thousand years of history that surrounded us.

‘You’ve got to loosen up,’ said Petra, falling into step beside me. ‘I mean, what she said was daft, but you’ve got to stop taking everything personally.’

‘Easy for you to say.’

Petra frowned at me. ‘And you’ve also got to stop acting like you’re the only person who’s ever been cheated on. I’ve been cheated on, and I’ve also been the cheater. So actually I’ve got more experience than you.’

‘Who did you cheat on? When?’

She shrugged. ‘Doesn’t matter. The point is that cheating might be selfish and mean-spirited, but it’s also a pretty clear indication that the relationship isn’t working – even if one person isn’t quite aware of that yet.’

I stopped. ‘Are you saying I was stupid?’

‘What? No! How the hell did you get that?’

‘You’re saying I should have known. That I wasn’t paying attention.’

She closed her eyes for a moment. ‘
God
, you’re infuriating sometimes!’

‘Are you two arguing?’ Yen had dropped back from the main group. ‘If so, stop it. You’re lagging behind. What are you arguing about?’

‘Nothing,’ said Petra. She strode off, joining up with Deb at the rear.

Yen turned her attention to me. ‘What were you arguing about?’

‘Oh, just long-term plans for you. Like who inherits you when you’re incompetent. Things like that.’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘No need to fight then. You’re the winner. I’m moving into that spare room at the top of your stairs.’

‘
What?
’

‘Got you, hey?’ Her eyes gleamed. ‘Don’t play games with an expert, missy.’

I could feel my heart start up again. It felt unsteady.
Elderly woman gives daughter cardiac arrest. It was only a matter of time, say relatives grimly.

‘Now, I need to ask you a favour. Enid’s driving me batty. I want you to take her to dinner tonight so that Jim and I can have some time to ourselves.’

I frowned. ‘Is this another joke?’

‘Certainly not. We’re going to see a show. Come on, we’re being left behind.’

I followed her towards the main group, a little stunned. I barely knew Enid Hurley, having only met her a few times before this trip. Even apart from her opinions on infidelity, she wasn’t exactly cruise-ship dinner companion material. Perhaps I could palm her off on to Petra as payback. I came up behind Ruby, who was taking photos with her new camera. This reminded me that I still hadn’t spoken to her about what was going on. Perhaps my proximity also reminded her, because she immediately sidled away with her camera raised, as if wanting to get a better angle. It was rather smoothly done.