I wasn’t!’ I said, shocked. This was the second compliment India had paid me recently and I wasn’t used to it.
‘Of course you were.’ She looked away. ‘Every teacher I ever had told me I wasn’t as good as my sister.’
‘Really?’
India rolled her eyes.
‘That sounds like you had some really nasty teachers! You must come along to Marnie’s talks so you can Spring-Clean Your Life,’ Gabriel said. ‘I insist.’
He smiled at me and my heart did a little flippy thing in a very silly way. He really was phenomenally attractive. His turquoise shirt seemed to bring warmth to his grey eyes, and they sparkled as the sunlight reflected off the water.
We discussed Boston, which was our next port, and Maine where his parents had a house on the coast. The way he described it was magical. The view of the ocean and how, in the winter, the force of the waves was astonishing. I could almost imagine the chill winds from Canada bringing snow to hurl against the shuttered windows and picture him walking on the beach, his boots crunching on the icy stones.
We finished our food and the minute the last fork hit the plate Callie was back with more iced water and the dessert menus. India had perked up a bit by now and wanted a warm chocolate brownie with ice cream. Evidently the hangover was abating.
Gabriel’s phone buzzed with the arrival of a text message and he read it, frowning.
‘The last tender goes back to the ship in an hour,’ he said, standing up. ‘I promised my mother I’d pick up something for her. I’ll see you back on board maybe?’
He was going to buy something for his mother? Were there actually men like that in the world?
We smiled and waved him off, watching him go in almost a daze. He really did seem too good to be true, but then I remembered the champagne incident and his icy tone and calmed down. Almost immediately Callie was back with a weighty slab of chocolate brownie, a scoop of vanilla ice cream, and two spoons that she put down in front of us with a sparkling smile and a wink.
‘Just in case you need help. Your friend is very charming,’ she added, watching as Gabriel walked through the wine bar and out into the sunshine.
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I suppose he is.’
Ah! But he’d left us to pay for his lunch. Nice one.
Callie topped up our water and brought us some new napkins.
‘The check is all taken care of,’ she said.
‘What?’
‘Your friend has paid the check, so no hurry, ladies; enjoy your dessert. It’s really good.’
‘Bloody hell,’ India said, ‘we weren’t expecting that – were we?’
I sat back and blinked a bit. ‘No, we certainly weren’t.’
Rhode Island Red
Tequila, Chambord, Lemon Juice, Agave, Orange Bitters, Ginger Beer
It was the second night on board and, according to the daily newsletter, tradition dictated that now our non-existent maids had unpacked for us we would be able to don some evening finery. Tonight was going to be the first of the gala dinners. The main difference was the dress code (posh frocks) and the food (five courses instead of four). Blow the diet and fitness routine. After a day traipsing around Newport with only an open sandwich and a glass of red wine to sustain us I couldn’t wait.
By now India had completely recovered from her hangover and had a plan.
‘I’m going to stick to water and soft drinks from now on,’ she said, as we got dressed for dinner that evening.
‘Really?’
I paused as I zipped her into her blue sparkly dress. To be fair, her diet and fitness regime of the last few months had paid dividends and she looked amazing, but then she always did.
‘Absolutely,’ India said, looking slightly martyred. ‘It’s called pacing myself. And I’m not going to mix wine with cocktails and other random spirits. I might just have an occasional white wine spritzer. But no cocktails before dinner. Well, not every day anyway.’
‘If that’s what you want to do,’ I said.
‘You could do the same,’ India said, looking a bit less sure. ‘After all, alcohol has a lot of meaningless calories and you were supposed to be losing weight before the wedding.’
‘Are you saying I’m fat?’ I challenged, feeling fifteen again, swatting away my younger sister bouncing around calling me names.
‘No, but remember the bridesmaid’s dress? I’m just saying you could lose a few pounds,’ she said, checking her eyeliner in the mirror before flashing me a look. ‘You said you wanted to.’
‘Then I’ll make sure I only drink meaningful calories in future,’ I said crossly. ‘Like vintage champagne and twenty-year-old brandy.’
God forbid we should get on to the wedding again.
I clambered into my dress, which was black and unstructured. By which I mean loose. Next to my sister I was definitely the big one, even though I was only a size twelve. Well, fourteen, especially in stretchy fabrics. And occasionally a sixteen if I’m honest. The high street can be so random.
I looked at myself in the full-length mirror and had a moment’s doubt. Perhaps India was right? Maybe I should have a small white wine spritzer and some filtered tap water with my meal? Yes, that would be the way to go. Moderation in all things. One day on, one day off perhaps?
Ten minutes later we were making our way towards the Champs-Elysées restaurant, teetering along in our high heels, admiring our reflections in the bronze-mirrored walls. Suddenly we spotted a table next to the window in the Picasso cocktail bar. There was a wonderful view of the sunset over Cape Cod, the colours a dazzling blend of gold and apricot with clouds as fluffy and luminous as Donald Trump’s hair. Well, of course, we stopped and sat down to appreciate the beauty nature had spread out before us, and before you could say zut alors a bedroom-eyed waiter, name badge Giovanni, had appeared beside us. Three minutes later we were appreciating nature’s beauty with a large Gin Sling each and a silver bowl of salted cashew nuts. Perhaps our moderation would start tomorrow.
When we got to our table it was fun to catch up with our new friends and find out what everyone else had been doing. I hadn’t realised the people you sat with on your first night were your table companions for the rest of the trip and felt very lucky we had met such a nice bunch. Marion had struck gold in the handbag shop and was proudly displaying an exquisite little evening bag at which Marty was glowering. Evidently her idea of an essential purchase and his were poles apart.
Ike and Caron had been to Newport on a previous cruise but had never seen The Breakers before, and they filled us in on all the details of the gilding, the marble, the furniture
