Page 22 of The Cruise Club
Ruskin sat in a plush armchair in a softly lit corner of the bar.
He was dressed in a well-tailored shirt, slightly undone at the collar, and paired with crisp navy trousers and soft suede shoes.
He held a glass of his favourite malt and watched guests dressed for the evening, head to the casino or the late evening show.
Melody Moon had performed earlier, captivating the intimate crowd.
Standing beside the baby grand, Melody wore an emerald green dress that shimmered in the low light as she moved to the music.
Beyond large windows, the sea was a soothing backdrop, reflected in the moonlight as the Diamond Star sailed on.
Ruskin enjoyed Melody’s warm voice, full of emotion, and her setlist included a mix of sultry ballads and the occasional upbeat song.
Now, drumming his fingers lightly on the arm of his chair, Ruskin decided that he was enjoying being at sea. Cruising life suited him.
Far away from his agent’s daily calls and distant from Venetia, Ruskin was beginning to relax.
His outline notes and research were taking shape, and he felt that he was on to something.
Locating Detective Inspector Blake in a Mediterranean destination would bring a different dimension to the next book, and with a full day tomorrow, Ruskin planned to explore when they arrived in Crete, before prepping for his workshops.
At an adjacent table, a group of people were laughing as stories of their day unfolded.
Ruskin recognised a couple he’d considered later-in-life honeymooners when they boarded the ship.
The woman wore a smart, well-cut pineapple-patterned sleeveless dress with a plunging neckline that showed off more than her deep tan.
He thought of Venetia, who loved the sun too, but Venetia always wore the strangest combination of bohemian clothes, unlike the woman at the next table.
Ruskin was content to soak up the sound of the piano and the energy of those around him and didn’t at first notice a woman standing at the entrance to the bar.
When a server moved swiftly forward to assist, Ruskin looked up to see her search the crowded room for a seat.
Taking to his feet, he called out, ‘There’s a seat here. ’
He noted that she was dressed in a sophisticated coral-coloured dress and her hair was perfectly styled, the caramel highlights caught the light as she moved. She appeared to be alone, and as he was keen for conversation, Ruskin hoped she’d accept his invitation.
Carmen was hesitant as she stepped into the piano bar. Despite the champagne she’d drunk earlier which softened the edges and gave her confidence, she felt her nerves flutter.
Leaving her room, Carmen had wandered through the ship.
She decided that the library was like a morgue at that time of night and the coffee area full of dozing passengers, weary after the day’s exertions and a heavy dinner.
The Neptune Theatre was packed, and Dicky Delaney was on stage, but Carmen didn’t want to make a show of herself by trying to find somewhere to sit.
Nor did she fancy the film in the cinema, which was already halfway through.
In the Mermaid Theatre, the floor was crowded with dancers.
She hadn’t set foot on a dance floor in years, and as Carmen watched the energetic couples, she felt her feet firmly anchored as they effortlessly glided by.
Now, as a server approached her, Carmen decided that the piano bar looked inviting, and she searched for a seat. But every table was occupied, and the thought of drawing attention to herself made her stomach tighten.
‘Can I help you?’ the server asked.
‘There’s a seat here,’ a man called out.
To her alarm, Carmen realised that it was Ruskin. She was unsure what to do but had little choice as the server guided her through the tables and past the pianist, who was playing ‘Fly Me To The Moon’ .
Carmen wished she could fly to the moon and as far away as possible.
Ruskin obviously hadn’t recognised her, and the moment he realised who she was, he would be off like a shot.
Her cheeks flushed as she searched for excuses.
But as the server pulled out a chair, Carmen knew it was too late to bolt.
She’d have to sit it out and wait for Ruskin to leave.
Oh, God, he looks so handsome! Carmen miserably thought.
Why was she attracted to a man who’d treated her so poorly?
She could smell Ruskin’s leathery cologne, and for a moment, was intoxicated and unable to shake off her nerves.
For years she’d been numb to any hint of romance and the last time she’d felt this way, Carmen had been young and full of dreams, believing love was something certain, that everyone enjoyed.
Sitting down hesitantly, she remembered her betrayal.
The man she’d once pictured as the father of her children, her childhood sweetheart, had shattered her illusions.
He hadn’t just left Carmen; he left her for a woman who took the place Carmen had always believed was hers.
Worse still, the woman was married. It had been a scandal, the kind that Butterly thrived on.
Whispers in the hairdressers, pitying glances at the post office.
Carmen could still remember the day Betty told her that she’d heard the news over the counter in their hardware shop, when a customer leaned in to mutter, ‘ Did you hear? Your Carmen’s boyfriend has gone off with her! ’
That was when Carmen decided that love wasn’t worth the risk.
Not when the pain of losing it was so consuming.
She accepted her life. The dream of a husband and family faded in the years that followed as Betty had dismissed any possible suitors, scaring them away, and ultimately Carmen had given up.
Now, as she looked around, bursts of laughter and lively conversation heightened her isolation and the butterflies in Carmen’s stomach were relentless. She wished she’d stayed in her room. Cocoa and the remains of Betty’s chocolates suddenly seemed appealing.
‘Delighted to meet you,’ Ruskin said. ‘I’m Ruskin Reeve.’
‘Carmen,’ she replied, feeling tongue-tied.
‘Let me get you a drink, please, what will you have?’
‘Champagne,’ Carmen blurted. The moment she spoke, she regretted it. For heaven’s sake! she panicked. Who did she think she was, ordering such an expensive drink.
But Ruskin was unperturbed. ‘What a good idea. I think I’ll join you,’ and he gave the server their order.
Moments later, a bottle sat in a cooler beside them, and Carmen held a chilled flute in her hand.
‘Are you enjoying the cruise?’ Ruskin began.
Carmen took a gulp of her drink. ‘Yes, I’m having a lovely time,’ she said.
‘What’s been the best part so far?’
She was about to confess to listening to his talk, then hurrying to her laptop to start writing, but for some reason, Carmen hesitated. ‘I particularly enjoyed the day in Maxos,’ she said, ‘such a quaint village a charming place to visit.’
‘I quite agree,’ Ruskin smiled, ‘there is so much history there. Did you know that Aristotle spent time in the region, which at that time was a centre of culture and philosophy?’
Carmen realised that Ruskin had no memory of sitting beside her on the bench where the old man sold his honey.
‘I know that the Venetians took control in the fifteenth century,’ she said, taking another drink, ‘and I was interested to see remains of many of their buildings, but most of the structures were lost during the earthquake of 1953.’
‘Yes, that’s true, it was devastating,’ Ruskin nodded, ‘but thank goodness the village was rebuilt and is now a tourist destination, providing employment.’
‘I’m sure the locals will be pleased when the season ends and the cruise ships sail away,’ Carmen said with a tense smile. She held out her empty glass as Ruskin topped it up.
Could he really have no memory of their brief conversation on the bench?
Did a new hairstyle and outfit create a creature Ruskin didn’t recognise?
Or had the impression she’d left been so fleeting he’d cast it aside?
Clearly, Ruskin didn’t remember Carmen from the pool either when he’d briefly stopped to speak to Theo.
‘Did you visit the fort?’ Ruskin asked.
‘Unfortunately, no, but others from our party climbed the steep path and said how wonderful the view was.’
‘It was built to protect the village from pirates and invaders.’
‘It’s not stopping invaders today – thousands of tourists must visit during summer.’ Carmen felt Ruskin’s eyes watching her closely.
Oh, Lord! Should she finish her drink and make her excuses?
Carmen was sure he had no idea who he was talking to, but the moment he did, their conversation would end.
Ruskin wouldn’t want anything to do with the silly woman in the frumpy clothes, who wandered about pushing her nagging mother in a wheelchair.
‘Would you like Maxos to be tourist-free?’ Ruskin asked.
‘Perhaps I would. I can’t imagine a more perfect place to live and work.’
Carmen remembered the gorgeous three-storey villa she’d noticed near the horseshoe-shaped beach. Villa Galini. Galini meant tranquillity and the villa would be her dream home.
‘Work?’ Ruskin raised an eyebrow. ‘What is it that you do?’
Carmen blinked. Rats! She hadn’t meant to blurt that out. Now she’d have to explain herself, and her cover, rapidly melting like ice, would be blown.
‘Oh, this and that.’
Carmen took a long sip of the champagne.
She felt Ruskin’s piercing blue eyes bore into her.
As the butterflies in her stomach danced wildly, she looked around, praying for a diversion.
What was happening to her, was it the champagne?
Each tilt of Ruskin’s head or even the way he held his drink seemed to pull her in deeper, igniting a spark she never knew she had.
She’d come on the cruise to be inspired, not to fall for a man who had no interest in her.