All Aboard! Read online

  He stopped short a few paces away, and turned around. ‘I’ll keep that in mind, ma’am,’ he replied in a low, sardonic drawl with the corner of his mouth turned up like he was laughing at a private joke. She bristled in annoyance at his manner more than his comment. The little one thankfully had been detained by a crew member in the distance and was being held hostage in readiness to be handed over.

  ‘Men these days,’ Rina Maasi said, shaking her head sadly. ‘Have no time to appreciate a pretty young lady. Not a little start-up anymore though, the company he founded. From what I hear it had received some big buck infusions from venture capitalists. Quite admirable, to strike out on his own when he could have just joined his family in their trading empire. Ah, here he comes . . .’

  She suddenly smiled, shifting her attention to the silver-haired gentleman from down the passageway who emerged from his cabin and politely inquired if they were staying on the same deck. Within seconds Rina Maasi was in an animated conversation, exchanging anecdotes and family tree details with him.

  By the time Rhea extricated her aunt from the conversation and hurried her up to the dining room, the queue outside the main restaurant where they had reserved their table was startlingly long and it was already way past their reservation time of 8.30 p.m. All around them were flushed faces—either because of excitement or hunger, perhaps both. Despite the seasickness medication that she had self-administered, Rhea was still a trifle uneasy about downing solid nutrition. She could feel the beginnings of a migraine behind the right eye.

  They ended up sharing the table with the dapper silver-haired gentleman, who turned out to be a retired Colonel settled in Chandigarh and here on the cruise with his son and his family.

  They were way into their main course when Rina Maasi exclaimed again. ‘Ah, there he is!’ Rhea turned despite her best intentions and saw the right angle jawed one, now with a light jacket covering those broad shoulders, his hair slick and gleaming under the bright lights of the tinkling chandeliers and escorting a delicately pretty, if not hassled looking, petite woman, probably his wife, and two children. Rhea noticed that one of the kids was the runaway they had encountered earlier that evening.

  She took a deep breath. All of five-foot, eight-inches, Rhea had a deep-seated envy of women who were tiny enough to be rescued in dangerous situations. She’d long learned to do her own rescuing, to be her own knight in shining armour and that she would never be swept away in anyone’s arms.

  ‘There is something so very appealing about a man in formal evening wear,’ Rhea thought to herself, allowing for a moment, the grim, murderous thoughts of Samir to slide from her mind and make way for Kamal Shahani.

  Kamal ventured to their table after seating the petite one and the accompanying kids at a table at the far end with a family who greeted them with a fair amount of bonhomie. He said his polite ‘Hello, how are you’ to Rhea, Rina Maasi and Colonel Singh. ‘Ma’am, do join us at our table for dinner. Naina and the kids would be delighted to meet an old school teacher of mine,’ he said. ‘I’m sure I could have them join the tables.’

  ‘I’m sure you would like to keep me away from that lovely lady lest I tell her all the stories about your school days and the trouble that you got into,’ Rina Maasi said with a twinkle in her eye.

  Kamal laughed. ‘Her son is just as troublesome, so she knows that it runs in the family! And I’ve made it up to my parents for all the trouble that I caused them back then. In fact, I think I’ve made them rather proud of me.’ Rhea marvelled at the matter-of-fact tone in which it was said and realized that she found the self-assurance very novel indeed. Most of the men she knew sought validation for their achievements, getting jittery if they felt threatened.

  ‘But do join us, it would be lovely to catch up.’

  At that moment, his eyes met hers and for the briefest of moments, there was a flicker of something familiar in them—a warm, molten longing. She had the overwhelming urge to stand up and put a hand to his cheek and check whether the cheekbones were as hard and unyielding as they looked or smooth and forgiving, and almost had to sit on her hands to keep herself from doing so.

  Rhea looked across to where the two children and their rather pretty, young mother were seated. The live band was striking up some music which was still midway between migraine-inducing and foot-tapping.

  ‘That’s very kind of you,’ she interjected swiftly, before Rina Maasi could get a word in, ‘But I think we would rather join you some other night. It is the first night on board and I’m sure you would like to spend it with your family than being bogged down by old school stories.’

  He shrugged, the extra broad shoulders beneath the jacket moving just a bit, ‘As you please.’ They exchanged cabin numbers and promised to catch up over the course of the days that they were on board this floating city.

  He excused himself with a smile that softened his eyes just that little bit from brown to melted honey, when he looked warmly at Rina Maasi. ‘It is so good to meet you again, ma’am, after all these years. You haven’t changed a bit.’ Rina Maasi smiled in the preening manner she had when her vanity was flattered. ‘Tosh, you’re still a right charmer, that hasn’t changed too,’ she replied.

  He went back to his table, where Naina, with her pretty face and curvaceous, small body had been staring at them quizzically, an impatient frown creasing her brow. They had a quick conversation, post which she smiled politely and nodded in their direction when she caught Rhea’s eyes still on them.

  ‘Nice boy, filthy rich, very old money, lovely parents. I remember meeting them quite often. He had a younger sister too, I believe, she was at another girl’s boarding school closer to Mumbai. I’ve never met her though,’ said Rina Maasi. ‘I heard he had not got married, but perhaps I heard wrong. Looking at the kids, he’s definitely been married quite a few years now.’ She picked up her napkin and placed it on her lap. Then she turned her attention to her plate and the retired Colonel who was now heartily talking about the combat zones he had been in. The Colonel’s family, which comprised his son and daughter-in-law, listened politely, with the son occasionally interjecting to fill in details that his father may have missed.

  The migraine was now pounding determinedly between Rhea’s brows. It was like demons taking hammers and tongs to her eyeballs and the queasiness of the entire day on embryonic sea legs seemed to rush up to her throat. She excused herself from the table and rushed out to stand on the deck, in a quieter corner to breathe in some fresh air. As she turned the corner, she dashed into something solid, a chest with a familiar mother of pearl buttoned shirt.

  ‘Whoa there, are you alright?’ asked a deep voice. It was Kamal. ‘You look a little unwell.’

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ she replied, feeling the bile beginning to settle from its precarious climb into her throat. ‘I think it was just the noise and the crowd. I felt a migraine coming on.’

  ‘You must watch where you’re going,’ he said, a slight smile playing on his lips. ‘Thankfully, my bones are sturdy enough to take the impact.’ She looked up and he winked at her playfully.

  She blushed and realized he was still holding her at the shoulders, his fingers like little embers on her bare skin. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She hastily moved back, breaking the momentary contact between them. ‘I’m so . . . sorry . . .’ she spluttered, trying to hide the red warmth that she knew her cheeks now displayed. ‘I should have been more careful!’

  He smiled, looking down at her with eyes that seemed like they were searching for something. ‘No problem. I had just gone back to the cabin to drop the kids off. It was way past their bedtime. They were dozing off at the table. Are you through with dinner already?’

  ‘No,’ she replied. ‘I will go back in and join my aunt in a bit.’

  ‘Hmm . . .’ he said, and stood next to her, a strange silence between them. A silence that was comfortable, familiar.

  ‘I get this strange feeling that we have met before,’ he said. She froze.
Of all the corny pick up lines a man could use, he chose this one. ‘Damn and blast!’ she thought to herself. Not another married man trying his luck with the first girl he sees the moment his wife’s back is turned! Rhea had dealt with enough of them. She hadn’t put him down for this, but then all men were the same, she told herself. Hadn’t she just been jilted by one of the species?

  ‘I’m sure we haven’t!’ she replied tartly. ‘I would have definitely remembered you had we met before.’

  A strange expression crossed his face. ‘And so would I, I suppose . . .’ he replied, thinking to himself.

  ‘Damn! Why do all the best looking men have to be taken?’ she thought, kicking herself on her shins mentally for replying without thinking. But Rhea knew that had they met before, she would have definitely remembered him.

  ‘I . . . I have to go,’ she said and he nodded. She quickly escaped into the inner confines of the dining hall where the presence of many people would hopefully break the sudden moment of forbidden intimacy that she realized had sprung up between them. An intimacy that was unbidden, uncontrollable and, she feared, unattainable.

  TWO

  The next morning dawned, bright and clear. The morning light rippled off the sea and cast sparkling reflections on the ceiling of Rhea’s cabin. It was like a huge glittering light pattern.

  Rina Maasi opened an eye, then another, and then shut both, groaning out loud.

  ‘Good morning, Rina Maasi,’ Rhea chirped. She had been sitting on the bed next to her aunt’s, waiting for her to get up, and watching the light creep up to the ceiling and play its dance number.

  She got another groan in response.

  ‘Are you all right?’ she asked, concerned.

  ‘No, I’m not all right. I feel like someone took a sledge hammer to my legs and my knees have decided to lock themselves into position and not open up to allow me any pain-free movement!’ Rina Maasi wailed. She unfortunately suffered from occasional, acute bouts of osteo-arthritic pain that rendered her immobile until the pain subsided.

  ‘Aren’t you going to even try to get out of bed?’ Rhea asked. ‘Can I help you, get you something?’

  ‘Just my medicines, a glass of water, and call in for some breakfast, will you please? I’m staying put today. I think I quite overdid it in the excitement of yesterday.’

  Rhea smiled sympathetically. And then she suddenly remembered. ‘But we have a shore excursion today! Wouldn’t you want to go?’ It was their first stop—Naples. The city where the Neapolitan pizza originated, one with the ruins of Pompeii, the Amalfi coast and a UNESCO world heritage site. She had been reading her Lonely Planet and was most excited about actually being able to step into the ruins of Pompeii. And now it seemed she needed to stay back and play nurse to Rina Maasi who was playing the invalid to perfection, demanding everything from the television remote to a bottle of water to be placed a hand stretch away.

  Rhea had signed up for the excursion with Rina Maasi, but now that she was sick, she didn’t want to leave her and go off on her own. At the same time she felt sad about not being able to visit this much talked about city. She thought of the well-thumbed copy of Lonely Planet in her handbag with a quiver of unrequited anticipation.

  ‘You go ahead without me, child,’ Rina Maasi said, seeing her despairing expression. ‘I’ll be fine. Just need some rest and I’ll be right as rain tomorrow.’

  Being a school teacher did that to one, Rhea thought to herself, it made one speak in similes. She debated mentally. Maybe it was okay for her to go. This, after all, was a small cabin and she had all the help at hand. And it wasn’t as if she couldn’t call out. She would actually improve as the day grew warmer.

  ‘Are you sure, Rina Maasi?’ she asked, just to be sure. ‘I could stay back. And you know how I dread going around alone with a group of strangers.’

  It was not for nothing that Rhea had been awarded the title Shrinking Violet in her high school yearbook.

  ‘You could stay with the Colonel and his family. Or better still, stick with Kamal and his family. They would be more your age and he will take good care of you,’ Rina Maasi declared, not realizing that the last thing Rhea wanted right now was to be in immediate proximity with Kamal. Her limbs hadn’t yet completely stopped trembling from that moment of physical contact between them. ‘God, Rhea,’ she chided herself, ‘you are behaving like an adolescent! And this is a married man!’

  ‘I’m an adult, Rina Maasi. I can take good care of myself, thank you very much!’ she said with mock anger.

  ‘I know babu . . .’ Rina Masi said softly. ‘Now go have breakfast. I forgot you were here to have fun leaving your sorrows behind and you will do just that.’

  Giving her aunt a kiss and a hug, Rhea walked out to grab some breakfast. Unknown to herself, she cut a rather striking figure as she walked through the corridors to the dining hall. Long-limbed and a little lost, she walked towards the upper deck stairs. She was dressed in a pair of white linen pants, a bright green camisole and a light, cotton, white shirt. A pair of comfortable shoes, a woven raffia tote and a printed scarf tied to it completed her look. There was no make-up on her face—a perfect oval that was framed by her shining, black hair in natural waves—except for a slick of lip gloss that intensified the natural hue of her lips and her wheatish complexion and a gentle application of kohl in her eyes. She wore a raffia hat to keep off the sun.

  As she climbed up from the lower docks to the one upstairs, Rhea was struck by the beautiful scenery. The azure sea stretched endlessly and in front was a Norman castle overlooking the port. There was a palace above the castle and a fortress, Castel Sant’Elmo, on top of the hillside, overlooking the bay. And beyond all these was the looming, sinister presence of Mount Vesuvius, now dormant. She took in a deep breath of the cool sea breeze, surveying what the city had to offer. Excitement filled within her to begin exploring as soon as possible.

  She had forty-five minutes to herself before reporting time. She moved on to the ornate sky-lit café. It was already a riot with families and squealing children and honeymooning couples. And food. An enormous array of food was lined up in a semi-circle along the deck walls.

  Rhea served herself at the buffet and found a table for two on the deck from where she looked out at the shoreline of the city they were to visit. ‘Hello, good morning! Do you mind if I join you?’ interrupted a deep, masculine, unfamiliar voice with a clipped British accent.

  She looked up to see a rather buff-looking man, with twinkling blue eyes, the corners crumpled into a web of smile lines, looking down at her. She looked around. All the tables seemed to be taken. It would be impolite to refuse.

  ‘Sure,’ she replied with a smile. She turned her attention back to the Lonely Planet on her Kindle, researching the places they were to visit on their shore excursion. Rhea had always been a bookworm and her childhood was replete with anecdotes of how she had been found hiding in corners at family gatherings with her nose deep in a book. Not much had changed when she grew up, preferring the company of the printed word over that of human beings.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said and lowered himself into the chair opposite her. He plonked a big black coffee mug next to his plate. Rhea couldn’t help noticing that his plate was a heart attack in the making—scrambled eggs, bacon, sausages, and all things fattening and laden with cholesterol were piled generously on it. A contrast to her muesli with cold milk and orange juice breakfast.

  Deciding to be polite, she observed her intruder who was dressed casually in a pale yellow linen shirt and beige cargo trousers. His skin was tanned in an even manner that denoted either diligent application of suntan oil, or travels to places where suntan oil was the last thing on one’s mind. Hair of the variety called dirty blonde spilled over to his shoulders. He was lean without being overtly muscular, and attractive in a strange way. He would have been in his late thirties, she thought, with the sun adding years and lines to his face.

  ‘What is a pretty girl like you doing all alone o
n a cruise ship, if I may ask?’

  Rhea laughed. She wasn’t used to being hit on this quick into a conversation. ‘Having breakfast,’ she replied with a smile and a naughty twinkle in her eyes. He looked stunned by her answer for a second. She offered, ‘Hi, I’m Rhea Khanna.’

  ‘My name is John. I’m from London,’ he said, cocking his head slightly with a big smile and offering a huge square-palmed hand. She put hers on it, as was expected. They shook hands perfunctorily. The contact was brief.

  Rhea explained, ‘I’m from Delhi. I’m here with my aunt, who unfortunately is a little unwell and resting right now, which is why I’m currently alone.’

  ‘Good to meet you, Rhea,’ he replied.

  ‘Likewise,’ she said.

  ‘We seem to be the only two souls on our own in this restaurant,’ he continued, looking around at the rest of the throng in the eatery.

  ‘It is rather crowded,’ she agreed, wondering when it would be polite to stop the small talk and concentrate on the food.

  ‘I have a dislike for eating on my own, but I must get used to it.’

  ‘Why is that?’ Rhea asked.

  ‘My wife just passed away a year ago,’ he replied.

  ‘Oh . . .’

  His face, below the tan and the ruggedness, suddenly went tender. ‘She had bone cancer. Unfortunately, we discovered it when it had reached the fourth stage. I’m starting my life all over again now. Learning to do things on my own, starting with going on vacations without her.’

  ‘I’m so sorry to hear that.’ She felt a sudden pang of pity and empathy for this complete stranger who was so open about his loss.

  There was a minute of awkward silence when they both concentrated on the food. How terrible it must be, thought Rhea, to lose a spouse to a terminal illness, and here she was, moping around like a month of Mondays because she had been jilted at the altar. It was a blow to her self-esteem for sure, but she would recover, she would move on. Moving on from something like a death of a loved spouse was something that seemed unimaginable.