'You're lucky, going on a cruise to the Caribbean. I sometimes wish I'd stayed single.'
It was five years since the accident which killed Dora's parents and her baby. She was married now with two children, Sheena aged three and Paul, just coming up to one year. Kevin was an adoring husband and father and sometimes Janis, as she watched the family together, could not help wondering what would happen if ever Kevin learned that his wife had had a baby before her marriage. For Kevin, in spite of his charm and apparent tolerant nature, was somewhat narrow in his outlook and almost as old-fashioned as his wife's parents had been regarding the chastity of women before marriage.
'I've been saving for two years,' returned Janis, leaning back in the comfortable chair and gazing around at the tasteful way her sister had arranged the sitting-room of the small detached house in which she and her family lived. She was recalling, for no reason at all, her sister's saying, on her wedding-day when she looked adorable and innocent in her white gown of lace and georgette,
'I shall have to deceive Kevin tonight because he thinks I'm a virgin and I wouldn't dare let him discover that I wasn't.'
'If he should ever find out…'
'He won't. How can he? You couldn't bear to stay at the house after the accident so you moved in with your friend, Lindsay. I took a flat in Bristol when the house was sold, because I too wanted to be near a friend. So we had both moved away.'
Janis remained silent, reflecting on that terrible time, that unforgettable moment when she was facing a policeman and hearing of the accident. Her father in a panic had raced the Mercedes in his haste to get the baby to hospital.
Janis had thought: if it hadn't been for Dennis none of this would have happened. Strangely, she could not even at that time place any blame on her sister. It was Dennis she hated, and swore at the time that if ever the opportunity of revenge ever came her way she would go to any lengths to see that Dennis had his deserts. There were times when she saw another meeting as remote, if not impossible, but at other times she felt instinctively that she and he would cross paths again.
Five years had passed, though, and nothing had been heard of him since he went off to Holland for his firm. How easily he had escaped any responsibility, leaving Dora to have the child and bring it up without any assistance from him. He did not know of the plan to have it adopted and so his shirking of responsibility was doubly reprehensible. Janis had always said he was rotten and she did wonder how much worse he was now that he was five years older.
'Tell me about this cruise,' invited Dora after smilingly having handed her sister a cup of tea. 'It's lovely to have you here even though the visit's short. Where does the ship go to?'
'Several islands in the West Indies. We start the cruise at Miami, though, so we have to fly there from London.'
'Exciting.' Dora sighed and said, 'You don't mind going on your own?'
'No, of course not. I'm used to being on my own since Lindsay married.'
'You kept the flat on. I had an idea you might find it expensive.'
'It's rather hard going but I manage. As you know, I've been promoted to head buyer for the dress firm I work for.'
'I never thought you'd leave Warrender and Green, but you did well for yourself by doing so.'
'I felt as if everything had to change when Mum and Dad died—not only did I want to leave the house we lived in but my job as well.' She frowned at the memory of her unrest. 'It was uncanny but inevitable. I felt much better when I'd left and settled in this new job. I like it and it gives me scope.'
'You're buying from Paris now, you were saying?'
'That's right. I have to go over there as soon as I get back from the cruise.'
'I envy you all this travel—' Dora stopped abruptly, ears alert. Sheena was next door playing with a friend, but Paul was having his afternoon nap and he had seemed to have wakened for Janis also thought she had heard him cry. However, all went silent again and Dora continued, 'How long does the cruise last?'
'Two weeks. I'm really looking forward to the break, the change and the rest.'
'And the sun!' grimaced Dora thinking of the harsh winter they had endured. 'I know it's almost summer now but the weather doesn't get really warm, does it?'
'It's only May.' Janis sipped her tea, thinking about the spectacular change that had come about in Dora's character since the traumatic experience with Dennis Gregory. She had met Kevin within a year of the accident and decided to accept his offer of marriage. Janis remembered the activity of the house-hunting, the preparations for the wedding, and although she was glad for her sister she was sad indeed that their parents could not be there, seeing their daughter 'respectably married' as was their wish for both their daughters. Life for Dora had been comparatively easy since her marriage, for Kevin had an excellent post as general manager of a chain of supermarkets. The children had come along and rather to Janis's surprise Dora had made an excellent mother, living for her family and apparently having forgotten altogether her fiery romance which had indirectly led to her parents' tragic and untimely death, and also the death of her baby.
'How long will your Paris trip be?' Although content with her life Dora did secretly envy Janis her freedom and especially her trips abroad.
'Only four or five days.' Janis put down her cup and saucer, aware of Dora's eyes upon her. The two girls were still alike in appearance but Janis had acquired a certain poise, an attractiveness that had a mysterious quality because it was difficult to describe. There was always a calmness about her, a certain access of tranquillity and serenity which in themselves added enormously to her attractiveness as a whole. She had had dates in plenty but the right man seemed to be as elusive as a dream. At twenty-three she had never met any man to whom she could become even remotely attached, and Lindsay had several times said she despaired of her ever getting married.
'You'll be a crotchety old spinster if you don't watch out,' she had warned, bringing a laugh from Janis, who said that although she might be a spinster she was determined not to be crotchety!
'Paris…' murmured Dora pensively. 'I'd love to go there.'
'I must say I'm looking forward to it,' confessed Janis. 'It's a fascinating city which grows on me with each succeeding visit.'
Kevin arrived home at his usual time of a quarter past six, dutifully kissed his wife and sister-in-law and then went up to the nursery, the children having been fed and put to bed so that the three adults could have their dinner in peace. Kevin always spent a few minutes with them whether they had already gone to bed or not, and he was smiling contentedly when he came down again.
'You're proud of your children,' laughed Janis. 'I must say they're both gorgeous!'
'And spoiled by their doting aunt,' he chided. 'The doll up there, and that massive teddy bear—your contributions to the nursery furniture, of course.'
'Her latest contributions,' corrected Dora. 'The cost! Toys are an horrendous price these days.'
'Bought mainly by grannies and aunts,' supplemented Kevin, going over to the drinks cupboard to pour himself a brandy. Of medium height and to Janis's critical eye just a little too bulky round the middle, he was, at forty-one, well over half-way up the ladder of success. He would go far. Janis rather thought that already he was considering a change of job. His features were what Lindsay described as homely, his personality as dependable. Lindsay had recently said of him,
'Nothing passionate and one wonders how he came to appeal to Dora. However, I'm pleased for her; she's happy now with her home and kids and a man who'll never ever let her down.'
'He's nice,' from Janis, but she heard herself adding thoughtfully, 'He seems to be a bit fussy, though—er—narrow and set, with standards that aren't flexible.'
'An excellent description,' applauded Lindsay. 'They get like that when they're past the forty mark.'
'I guess he's always been like that.'
'You're probably right. All the same, he's nice, as you say.' Lindsay had paused to eye her friend speculatively. 'Not your type, though?'
'I can't make up my mind what my type is,' she had to admit.
'Hence your bachelor-girl state.'
'I do still have time,' retorted Janis. 'Anything could happen, and at any time.'
And when Janis's brief week-end visit to her sister came to an end Kevin was saying something similar.
'Have a good trip, Janis—and you never know what might happen. The man of your dreams might be on board!'
***
The Sagafiord sailed majestically out of the harbour to the sound of a band on the shore and to the flashing of what seemed to be a thousand or more lights from the blocks of apartments and condominiums, whose owners always gave this display for every ship that sailed out. Janis stood on the side by the rail and felt a flood of emotion rise up within her. It was a touching scene about which she had been warned. She would feel full up, and this proved to be the case. She felt like crying as the Sagafiord's siren acknowledged the salutes from other, much smaller vessels.
'I feel like weeping,' she heard someone say. 'It was just too emotional!'
Janis looked around her and gave a small sigh of contentment. People whom she would meet, and perhaps make friends with. It was exciting, well worth those two years' denial as every month she added all her spare cash to her banking account. She noticed an elderly couple holding hands and fell to imagining them celebrating forty years of marriage—perhaps fifty. Who could tell these days when everyone looked so young for their age? A younger couple standing there laughing at something one of them had said. A crowd of young girls who looked as if they ought to be in the schoolroom. It had always puzzled Janis how teenagers could find the money for travel and other luxuries. She herself had always had to struggle to make ends meet, until she had this latest promotion and received the consequent rise in her salary. Life from now on would be much more comfortable, she thought, and hoped she could take a holiday like this once a year in future.
She went down to her stateroom at last and began to unpack her two suitcases which a steward had brought down while she was on deck watching the ship leave Miami.
She was thrilled with her accommodation, which was a sort of bed-sitter for there was a couch and an easy chair as well as the divan bed. The bathroom was light and airy, with a porthole, like the main cabin. Bright curtains were pulled to one side with blue silk cord; the furniture was white—a dressing-table and wardrobe and a small chest of drawers beside the bed. On this was a lamp with a rose-coloured shade.
After all was taken from the cases and put away Janis realized she had an hour or so before she need change for dinner. She would walk around, get to know the ship, find her bearings. However, when she reached the main lounge she found that tea was being served and she decided that a cup of tea would not come amiss. She had no sooner sat down than a smiling white-coated waiter advanced towards her to take her order.
'Only tea, madam?' He looked at her with mock surprise. 'What about sampling the fresh cream cakes or the hot buttered scones?'
'I want to enjoy my dinner,' she laughed.
'You can still do that,' he assured her and so she agreed to sample the cream cakes.
She sat alone at a corner table where she could scan the whole blue and gold lounge with its raised dais at one end where the band played—just a violinist, a guitarist and a man at the piano. The music was soft, classical, in keeping with the tasteful elegance of the lounge.
Several young men who seemed to be travelling alone eyed Janis as if they would have liked to speak but they all passed on. She did not at this stage know whether she would welcome a shipboard flirtation or not. She did feel she would like company and for that reason she had asked to be put on a table for eight, in the dining saloon.
And to her amazement she found herself on the Captain's table. His place was reserved but he wasn't there that evening for dinner—not the first night when the ship was sailing out of harbour. This was traditional, Janis soon discovered. The Captain never appeared at dinner either on the first evening or any evening when the ship was leaving a port of call.
Her table companions proved to be all that she could have wished, and more. As was to be expected, they were mostly Americans but there was an Hungarian couple too, although they were now naturalised Americans, having left Hungary many years ago. They were Stephen and Elizabeth, a charming couple who talked of their children and grandchildren so that soon Janis was feeling as if she actually knew them. There was Eartha, large and blonde, flashing diamonds on every finger, in her ears and on her throat. The kind who loses thousands of dollars nightly at the tables, but jolly, good-natured and sincere for all that. She took to Janis, confiding that she had been a widow for four years and came on these cruises in the hope of finding a charming widower.
'No luck yet, but still optimistic,' she laughed when she and Janis were out on the sun deck the following morning. 'How do you come to be on your own?' she wanted to know. 'You're so young and lovely that I'd have thought you'd have a nice young man tagging along. I had several when I was your age!'
Laughing, Janis said that she was very self-sufficient and not too interested in men.
'They're so unpredictable these days,' she added without thinking.
'Amorous and unrestrained, you mean?' laughed Eartha, nodding in agreement. 'You're right, my dear, but don't despair. There are a few who still have ideals. It's just finding them.'
'Difficult,' returned Janis, pulling down the shoulder straps of her bikini top as far as she dared. 'I must get brown,' she said. 'Otherwise I shall feel I've been cheated.'
'Not much sun in your country, I guess?'
'We do have some sunny days in summer.'
'I live in California.'
'I'd like to go there.'
'Then, dear, you have an invitation here and now. Come when you want. I'll give you my address before we say cheerio.'
The other three which made up the table were Mr. and Mrs. Verner from Ohio and a young man on his own, Talbot Rutherford from New York. He had been ill and had been ordered a sea voyage by his doctor. Quiet and with introvert tendencies, he contributed little to the general conversation but Janis found him pleasant company on the few occasions when she happened to be alone with him on deck, or taking tea in the lounge.
It was the fourth day that Janis met Clive Trent. The ship had docked at Barbados and as she had been recommended to visit the Sandy Lane Hotel Janis decided to have her lunch there. She had never seen a more magnificent cold table; it was laden down with every kind of delicious and exotic food including fruits grown on the island. On every table with its bright green cloth was a hibiscus flower, brilliant crimson against the green.
She picked it up, and then, as she twisted the stem, the head dropped off, falling in the path of the tall, distinguished man who stooped to pick it up. His dark eyes met hers and flickered as he dropped the flower onto her side plate.
'You're from the Sagafiord,' he said and she nodded and managed a thin smile. She had noticed the man—he was not the kind one could fail to notice! But always he had looked through her with almost studied indifference which made her bristle and want to lift her chin to send him a challenging look.
'Yes, I am.' There was a vacant chair opposite to her, as there were no single tables. She watched him pass on, go to the buffet and choose what he wanted. He came back, walking slowly as he looked for a vacant place.
'It's pretty busy,' he commented in a quiet, finely timbred voice. 'Mind if I join you?'
'Not at all.' She was overcome with shyness and angry with herself because of it. She supposed he overwhelmed her somewhat, because of the cool, remote manner he had previously assumed, almost as if he had some indefinable dislike of her. Which of course was stupid; nevertheless, it was the impression she had previously gained. Now, though, he had melted a little although his eyes were still cool, as unsmiling as the full, sensuous mouth. Her glance went to the thick black hair with its widow's peak and its inclination to wave. The temples were greying and yet she felt sure he was no more than thirty at the very most. He wore oyster-coloured slacks and a white shirt of finest cotton, open at the neck to reveal black hair on a bronzed chest. The shirt sleeves were rolled up to above the elbow, the brilliant white contrasting with the desert-dark skin of his arms. She knew that already he had taken in everything about her—the slenderness of her figure clad in yellow shorts and a light green sleeveless blouse, low-cut, a little daring; the brown eyes set in classical features that yet were truly feminine, the rosy mouth which very few men had kissed, the pointed chin which, along with the high cheek bones, lent an oval aspect to her face. Her brown hair was gleaming and straight, long to her shoulders, the perfect frame for features of rare and piquant beauty.
Janis did not altogether care for the intense scrutiny of his dark and penetrating gaze and her chin lifted a little in a gesture of almost arrogant inquiry. He daunted her instantly by saying with a hint of sardonic amusement in his voice,
'I can look, surely. You have no objection to being admired, have you?'
Confusion spread colour into her cheeks; it also deprived her of words and after a moment her companion was heard to say,
'All women are susceptible to flattery so why the pretended objection to my interest?'
She found her tongue at last.
'I don't think I understand you, Mr. ——'
'Clive Trent,' he cut in swiftly. 'And you are Janis Morton.'
'Stateroom thirty-four, Sun Deck,' she supplied and he immediately inclined his head and said,
'Thank you, I shall remember that.'
'Oh…' She blinked at him, then frowned. 'I didn't mean—I er—What I did mean was that you learned it all from the passenger list we were all given.'
'No, I can't recall my interest having gone that deep,' he said with the clear intention of disarming her—and he succeeded, her blush deepening as she averted her eyes. 'Someone or other must have spoken your name in my hearing.'
Janis felt her temper rising, but she managed to control it and her voice supplied no clue to her feelings as she said politely, lifting her face,
'Are you enjoying the trip, Mr. Trent?'
He looked at her and laughed. She could not miss the attractiveness of that laugh, which revealed gleaming white teeth, even and strong.
'Changing the subject?' He took up a piece of smoked salmon onto his fork and put it in his mouth, his dark eyes upon her as she too began to eat her first course. 'Yes, I'm enjoying it very much.'
'You're alone, I think?'
'No, I'm with my grandmother.'
'Your grandmother?' She blinked. He seemed the very last person to be tagging an ancient lady along on a luxury cruise to the West Indies. 'I haven't seen you with her.'
'She has other interests for most of the time. Deck games are a bit beyond her these days—or so she tells me.'
Janis felt at a loss for words. The situation seemed strange to say the least for here was a man who hitherto had scarcely noticed her but now seemed intent on encouraging her friendship.
She couldn't suppose he was lonely since it was plain that a man as exceptionally handsome as he could have any unattached girl on board the ship. She sent him a surreptitious look, taking in the hint of Latin ancestry somewhere along the line, with that tightly stretched skin accentuating the high cheek bones, and the aquiline quality of his profile as he turned to glance at a loud-voiced woman who was passing the table. She noticed the glossy black hair, healthy and clean, noticed the hands, olive-skinned with long sensitive fingers and well-tended nails. Perfection! Her mind scoffed at the idea for she had never been keen on any kind of perfection; she preferred a few faults; it made her feel more comfortable somehow.
But this man would always make her feel uneasy, she thought. And yet… a strange and obscure feeling of excitement assailed her as she continued to rivet her eyes on his face, and she was aware of a breathlessness which caused her to feel unaccountably weak about the legs, and she was thankful to be sitting down.
Stupid! she chided herself, allowing the wretched man to affect her like this! Why didn't he speak, break this uncanny silence!
As if aware of her urgent desire he looked up and said casually,
'What made you come here to the Sandy Lane for lunch?'
'It was recommended to me.'
He nodded his head.
'One of the most prestigious hotels in the entire Caribbean.'
'Royalty once stayed here, I believe?'
'Could very well be.' He glanced at her empty plate. 'Are you ready for more?'
They rose together and walked to the long, colourful buffet table.
'I'm spoiled for choice,' she laughed. 'Where does one begin?'
He wasn't having any trouble at all, she noticed. He had taken two slices of cold turkey and one of beef. A helping of green salad and he was standing there, waiting for Janis. She hurriedly took some ham and tongue and, like him, a portion of salad.
Their table was at the edge of the wide verandah, where they could look out to the clear smooth waters of the Caribbean Sea where a couple of white-sailed yachts sailed gracefully along with the wind. Paragliders were enjoying themselves at one end of the beach, while dozens of sun-worshippers lazed on the luxury loungers provided by the hotel for their comfort and enjoyment. Two locals played 'Mary Ann' on guitars, white teeth glowing in black faces. Someone else was selling gaily woven caftans while an aged woman was walking along in slow motion carrying a heavy basket containing coconuts which she was trying to sell.
Janis wondered what would happen when the meal was finished. She found herself liking the man's company now that she had lost her shyness, and felt she would miss him if he left her as soon as the meal was over. However, he suggested they stay together, seeing that they were both on their own.
She agreed, feeling lighthearted, excited and flattered by his attention. They strolled along the beach, then sat for a while watching the activity of others.
'Where now?' he wanted to know after they had decided to move.
'I wanted to go to Sam Lord's Castle, but perhaps you…?'
'A good idea. Have you been there before?'
'No, this is my first time in Barbados.'
At the 'castle' they wandered through the house first and then the grounds; they stood on the windswept Atlantic side where trees had died owing to the harsh conditions.
'It's so different from the Caribbean side!' Janis could not get over the dramatic contrast of the two coasts. 'The Caribbean's so gentle in comparison to this. These poor trees—so ghostly and bare.'
'Sad, but that's the way of merciless nature.'
She glanced up at him and thought how austere were his features; she marvelled that a man like this could be interested in someone like her. She wondered what he did for a living for she felt sure he was wealthy. She wondered too if he was married but somehow felt he was not, for otherwise he surely wouldn't be travelling with his old grandmother for company! Curiosity endowed her with the temerity to ask,
'Does your grandmother often accompany you on your travels, Mr. Trent…?' Trent… Clive Trent… Janis's eyes widened as perception filtered her mind. Was he the Clive Trent? More important, was his grandmother the stately, charming, but granite-hearted lady whose exquisitely fashioned clothes were worn by the world's twenty or so best-dressed women? But her grandson was fast gaining fame in his own right; he had recently been interviewed on television but Janis had not seen the programme. Lindsay had mentioned it on the phone one day when she rang up for a chat.
'Did you see the Clive Trent show?' she had asked, quite excited and obviously taken with the handsome 'hunk of manly supremacy.'
'No, I must have been out, or reading.'
'Gave a fashion show in a Swiss castle—quite an extravaganza it was. It's said he never does things by half, and it's also said that there's a bit of competition between him and his very famous grandmother, Laura de Vivonne.'
Janis had of course heard of the great lady of fashion whose gift and flair for design had made her a millionaire with a chateau in Provence and a penthouse in the heart of Mayfair.
'No,' she heard Clive saying in answer to her question, 'my grandmother rarely travels with me, but on this occasion she felt the need of some relaxation and as she knew I was taking a cruise she decided to come with me.' Clive was staring out to sea, and he appeared distant, far away.
For a moment, having thought a little more about her suspicions, Janis was unsure of their accuracy but it very soon became clear that she could not possibly be mistaken.
'Your grandmother is a dress designer, isn't she?'
Clive evinced no surprise as he turned to look down into Janis's face.
'Madame de Vivonne.' He looked interrogatingly at her and she answered the unspoken question at once.
'I haven't examined the passenger list properly. Otherwise I'd have known right away.'
'But you didn't recognise my name.' Faintly he smiled. 'Not as famous as my gifted grand-mère!'
'So you're part French.' This accounted for the Latin qualities, thought Janis.
'A quarter part,' he said.
'It must be an interesting life.' She was beginning to feel the chill of the Atlantic breeze and moved as if to imply that she wanted to walk on.
'It has its good points.'
'I'm a buyer for a firm who owns several boutiques: Raine and Sumner.' She paused, then grimaced. 'You've never heard of them obviously.'
'Sorry, no.' He had begun to move on and they made their way back to the house, where they took afternoon tea, sitting in rather crowded surroundings because several coach parties had just been unloaded.
When they arrived back at the Sagafiord Clive surprised her yet again by asking her to dance with him that evening.
'That is,' he added with an unfathomable inflection, 'if you haven't a date already.'
'No, I haven't a date.' She lifted questioning eyes to his. 'You really want me to join you, after dinner?'
'I wouldn't have asked if I hadn't meant it, would I?'
She felt snubbed, somehow, and a chill touched her spine. Yet she found herself saying, almost against her will,
'I'll be happy to dance with you, Mr.—er—Clive.'
***
There was something strange and unfathomable about the man, decided Janis as she took her shower in preparation for dressing for dinner. At the dinner table she glanced all around to see where he was sitting, for on this Norwegian ship there was only one sitting for meals. She spotted him; he had his back to her, which meant that his grandmother was facing her. The arrogance of that face! The beauty of the white hair, perfectly coiffured in a style that seemed specially designed to show off the massive drop earrings… diamond earrings, glittering as she moved her head. The necklace matched and although her hands were out of sight Janis guessed that wrists and fingers sported diamonds too. Clive's jacket fitted to perfection; his hair shone, his shoulders were erect.
Yes, there was something exceedingly puzzling—not only about Clive but about the whole situation as a whole, decided Janis and she was intrigued to the point where she wanted to solve the mystery before the end of the voyage.
***
Just as she expected, he danced superbly and although at first Janis felt nervous she soon gained confidence as it was borne in on her that she was faultlessly matching his steps.
They sat down at a small table when the dance was over and Clive ordered drinks. Strangely uneasy, Janis had to break the silence.
'Has your grandmother gone to bed?'
'She's in her stateroom entertaining friends.'
'She's made friends already?'
'A woman like her always gathers admirers around her.'
It sounded, thought Janis, as if he were almost sneering at the old woman. Didn't they get along? If not, then why had he agreed to have her with him on this cruise?
'It's a puzzling situation,' murmured Janis mechanically, her brow creased in thought.
'You're curious as to why we're travelling together?' There was a distinct thread of amusement in the finely modulated voice and Janis coloured slightly.
'It's nothing to do with me,' she returned stiffly, her eyes wandering around the lounge to pick out the Captain and the people with him—Elizabeth and Stephen, and Eartha, who seemed to be holding the entire attention of the others by something she was saying. Janis had received an invitation to the Captain's private cocktail party, to be held in his quarters the following evening. It was traditional that a Captain should always include his table companions in the small select cocktail party he held as distinct from the larger party to which every passenger on board was invited.
'There's no mystery,' Clive went on to assure her and she turned to face him again, noting the glimmer of amusement in those dark and penetrating eyes. 'Grandmother needed the change; it was natural for her to suggest she come with me.'
'You didn't mind—?' She broke off; it was the wrong thing to say.
'Mind?' with a lift of his brows which of course did not surprise her. 'Why should I? She's my only relative.'
'Sorry,' mumbled Janis and then, with a glance at her watch, 'I think it's time I was going to bed.' She rose at once because from his expression it seemed he was about to make a protest. 'Good night—Clive.'
'Good night, Janis. It's been a most pleasant day.' He sounded sincere, and she supposed he was. But somehow she still knew that tinge of uneasiness—or maybe it was puzzlement she felt. For it still seemed strange that he had picked her out when there were so many glamorous women on board, more sophisticated women, for this was one of the most expensive and luxurious ships sailing the Caribbean. The cost had been a pull on Janis's resources but not only had she decided that, as long as she was taking a cruise, it might as well be a memorable one, but also, this particular line—the Norwegian-American line—had been recommended to her above all others.
She went on deck for a few minutes before going to her stateroom; the Caribbean was smooth and dark, relieved only by the quivering ribbon of silver that was light stolen from the moon. She looked up; a million stars twinkling there and through her mind ran the lines of a poem which every child must have learned at one time or another:
'Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are….'
Well, she knew the answer now of course, she mused as she continued to look upwards, but the mystery was as great as ever, the mystery of how they came to be there, how and when and why?
She frowned at the depth of her thoughts. She had no wish to flounder and worry about things she would never understand.
She wanted to think about a tall, handsome but austere man who had told her he had enjoyed his day with her….