The False Inspector Dew

16

After dinner Johnny Finch entertained Alma and the Americans from their table. He sat in an armchair in the centre of the lounge and told motoring stories. They were very funny. They were spiced with the names of people in society. The gentlemen bought expensive motor cars to impress the ladies. Either the cars or the gentlemen always got overheated, in the art of seduction,' Johnny told his audience, 'the motor car is an unreliable accessory.' He told a story of the late King Edward and a car that he had hired. The owner had a soft drinks factory and was hoping for a warrant of appointment in lieu of payment. The King drove into the country with a lady friend. The car ran out of petrol. The King was not dismayed. There was a pleasant interval. Eventually the King lighted a cigar. He told the lady all was well. A reserve supply of petrol was on board. He got out. He unstrapped the can. It was full of lemonade. The manufacturer failed to get his royal warrant.

Johnny's stories drew more people to the circle. He was still holding forth at midnight. The stories got more risque. A woman and her husband left the group. Alma was the last woman left. She waited for the next bout of laughter and got up to say goodnight.

'Leaving us so soon?' said Johnny.

'It's after midnight.'

'So it is, by George. And I was hoping to show you my Lanchester.'

Everyone laughed, including Alma.

'Perhaps later in the crossing,' said Alma.

'I'll keep you to that. Goodnight, my dear.' Johnny launched into a story about Henry Ford.

Alma made her way back to DDeck. She was slightly unsteady. She had drunk more wine than she intended. Each glass had helped to dilute her fears. She could not have faced a night in stateroom 89 without it.

The corridors were quiet. The ship was steady. Any sway was

Alma's. But she had no trouble finding her way. She followed the signs to the rooms beginning with the digit 8. She counted them off to 89.

"Do Not Disturb" had been removed.

She opened her bag and fumbled for the key. She held it under the light and checked the number. She pushed it into the lock. She waited a second. She turned it and opened the door.

The light was on and there were curtains drawn across the portholes. The cabin trunk was open.

Alma took a long breath. She stepped close enough to look inside. The trunk was empty. She said aloud, 'Thank God.' She closed the stateroom door.

She looked inside the bathroom. She opened drawers and cupboards. She could not think of sleep until she knew exactly what was in that room. She saw Lydia's clothing, neatly folded. Everything looked clean and new. There was a nightdress in black satin. She would not wear it.

She took off the georgette evening gown. She cleaned off the make-up in the bathroom. She decided to take a bath. While she was in the water she felt as if the ship changed course. The cadence of the engines altered. The bath water slurped around her. It happened more than once. For a time she thought the ship had stopped. It lurched again as she reached for the towel. Her stomach heaved. She wished she had drunk less wine.

The ship seemed to settle to its usual rhythm. Alma was grateful. She put on her petticoat and got into bed. She had not put out the light. But she was less frightened than she had thought. The worst was over now. She turned her face to the wall. She was soon asleep.