Part 12 (2/2)
”Maybe not, but I want to.”
Sammy nodded, adjusting his headphones. ”Send it round to me Mum. She'll be wanting one, for sure.”
”My pleasure.”
The Marconi began clicking, signaling that another message was arriving, and I took this as my cue to leave. I was wrung out from Jenny's story and from my less than restful sleep the night before. Still, I was troubled by what had happened with Maddy and I wanted to confront her and find out what had caused such an emotional about-face, maybe help her get past it, if possible. Of course, my motives were not entirely unselfish. I wanted to be in the safe haven of her arms once more.
My first stop was the Purser's Office, situated amids.h.i.+p on C-deck. I came up to the window and spotted the Purser seated at his tiny desk poring over a ledger. He looked up at me, his hawkish face registering surprise. ”Oh, I'm sorry, sir,” he said, unfolding his tall, lanky frame out of his chair. ”I didn't see you. What can I do for you?”
”I was wondering if you could help me locate a fellow pa.s.senger. She's in steerage somewhere, and forgot to tell me which room she's in.”
The Purser smiled and pulled a clipboard off a hook on the wall.
”Certainly, sir. What is the lady's name?”
”Madeleine Regehr.”
He ran his long index finger down the page, his brow furrowed in thought. I noticed most of his knuckles were swollen with arthritis.
”Ahh, here it is,” he said, turning the clipboard, so I could read it.
”Right here.”
It was a berth number located somewhere on E-deck in the forecastle. The man was kind enough to point it out on a floor plan mounted to the wall behind him. I thanked him and headed off.
Even with his clear, concise directions, it took me far longer to find her room than it should have. Third cla.s.s reminded me of a topiary maze I'd gotten lost in as a child: corridors branching off into more corridors, all of them looking alike. I'd circled back to the same point twice before taking the correct turn that brought me to her door.
I felt giddy, lightheaded, and b.u.t.terflies chased each other inside my intestinal tract. I swallowed my fear and knocked.
Silence.
”Maddy, are you there?”
Again, nothing.
I was annoyed, imagining her sitting there deliberately ignoring me, and I was so wrapped up in my emotional turmoil it didn't occur to me that she might simply be out.
I pounded on the door, harder, the sound echoing down the lonely corridor.
”Maddy, I'm sorry for what happened, please open up.”
The door to the room next to hers swung open and a bleary-eyed man with thick black stubble on his chin and a scowl on his face leaned out.
”What the b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l is going on here?”
”I'm sorry for disturbing you, but I'm looking for the woman who's staying here.”
The man rolled his eyes.
”Cor blimey! That b.l.o.o.d.y flake moved out early this morning! And b.l.o.o.d.y good riddance to 'er. Crying and playing the same b.l.o.o.d.y love songs on her warbler over and over all night, she was.”
Hearing that she'd had a rough night aroused mixed feelings in me. A part of me was the tiniest bit glad she'd suffered long after leaving me standing on the promenade. The other part of me felt as if a white-hot lance had pierced my solar plexus. But all of that was overshadowed when I remembered her telling me about working her way up to first cla.s.s. Feeling more than a little foolish, I started back down the hall.
”Sorry, to have bothered you,” I said, calling back over my shoulder.
The man mumbled something I couldn't make out, shook his head and disappeared back into his room.
I ran back the way I'd come, pa.s.sing the lowermost First Cla.s.s staterooms on E-deck. Second Cla.s.s staterooms were farther aft and confined to the starboard side. I kept my eyes peeled for a steward and was soon rewarded: one was exiting one of the last of the First Cla.s.s staterooms when I approached.
”Excuse me, but I was wondering if you could help me locate someone?”
The steward looked to be about eighteen, but a closer examination of his boyish face revealed a fine web of crow's feet spreading out from the corners of his eyes, as well as a smattering of gray at his temples.
”Have you tried the Purser's Office?” he asked in a pleasant voice tinged with a public school accent.
I told him about Maddy's intention to move around on the mostly-empty s.h.i.+p, and the steward frowned.
”That is a bit of a problem. What does she look like?”
I described her as thoroughly as possible, and when I got to her auburn hair, his smile returned. ”I saw her, not more than half an hour ago.”
”Thank you so much,” I said, relieved. ”Did she seem okay?”
”How do you mean, sir?”
”Did she seem upset, agitated?”
”Not that I noticed but, then again, I was a trifle busy at the time.”
”I know this is asking a lot, but do you remember the stateroom number?”
The steward shook his head. ”I'm sorry, sir, I don't. But I could show it to you.”
I followed him down the corridor and a moment later he stopped in front of a stateroom marked: E-75. He knocked on the door and we both waited, listening for a response. He tried once more, then turned to me. ”I'm sorry, sir, but it seems the lady is out.”
”Thank you, anyway, you've been most helpful.”
”My pleasure, sir.... After all, courtesy and civility are all we have left.”
I looked at him, puzzled. ”What do you mean?”
Now, it was his turn to look puzzled, and then a little nervous. ”I'm sorry, sir, I guess I'm just bemoaning the state of modern society. If you'll excuse me, I must get back to work. So glad to have been of help.”
He marched back down the corridor and I watched him go, feeling a vague sense of disquiet. Courtesy and civility were certainly casualties of the modern age, but were they really all we had left? I certainly hoped not, or we were all in big trouble.
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