A VOYAGE TO REMEMBER
Chapter Twelve
It was nearly half past five when
Isolde finished readying herself. She hurried from the bathroom towards the
main dining area. She was out of breath by the time she reached the entrance.
Standing still and taking huge lungfuls of air, she composed herself. She saw
Shamus and Flynn on the far side. Two other men were with them, as well.
Isolde suddenly felt a tug on her
arm. She looked to see Aine at her side, a frown etched onto her face.
"What's the matter?"
Isolde asked, now worried something was wrong.
"I saw you with that officer
eating lunch," she whispered, looking over her shoulder to see if anyone
was listening. "Shamus saw you, as well."
"That's why he looked so
angry this afternoon!" Isolde said after letting it all sink in.
The young Irishwoman nodded
fiercely. "He thinks you're his lass. You don't want to be crossin' him
tonight. He's been drinking."
"I've never crossed him
before," Isolde said with confusion. "I don't know why he thinks he
has a claim on me."
"I don't know why,
either," Aine continued quickly. "But I advise you to stop seeing
that upper class boy. He won't be standin' if Shamus gets hold of him."
Isolde shook her head. This
wasn't supposed to happen. She had never liked Shamus that way. He was only a
roommate. She hardly even spoke to him! Aine tried to steer her towards their
table, but Isolde pulled away from her grasp and went out the door. She needed
time to think. She could skip dinner tonight, she thought to herself as she
made her way down the maze of hallways. She'd just wait on deck for an hour and
a half until Harold was off duty.
As she reached the top deck, a
sharp wind blew against her face. The temperature had dropped a considerable
amount. She went back into the warmth of the interior of the ship. Quickly
making her way back down to her quarters, she made sure to keep away from the
dining area. She reached for her doorknob and slipped in. Isolde opened her
suitcase. At the very bottom was a heavy wool coat. It was snug and went down
to her knees. She threw it on and hurried out again.
She opened the door and looked
down the hallway, this time to see Shamus looking in the opposite direction of
her. Isolde silently clicked the door shut. She didn't want to run into him, so
she took the risk of going to the Crew Only passageway. Running down the hall,
she rushed through the door, breathing heavily and hoping with all of her might
that Shamus hadn't spotted her. After catching her breath, she went up the
steps and through the route Harold had shown her earlier. Safely away, she
headed out into the Grand Staircase area.
Isolde didn't bother to marvel at
the fine craftsmanship. She hurried across the plush carpet and onto the deck.
She noticed as she looked at the clock that it was nearly six o' clock. As she
walked on the deck, the familiar sting of the Atlantic wind came over her. She
made sure to button up her coat. She slowly made her way down the deck. She was
a few yards away from the stern and decided to rest on a lounge chair, if only
for a few moments. As she crossed her arms and closed her eyes, she
unexpectedly fell asleep.
*****
Harold was running a few minutes
late. He was finishing buttoning his shirt and had a coat thrown over one arm.
As he briskly made his way across the wooden deck, his shoes made a familiar tap-tap-tap.
He wouldn't have noticed a woman in the last lounge chair, but his brisk
walking had made her turn in her sleep.
Harold could hardly hold back a
laugh. Isolde lay in the chair as if it were the most normal thing to do. Her
cheeks were rosy, her hair framing her face in waves. He noticed she had pinned
some of them to the side. He gently knelt beside her. She was still in slumber.
A harsh wind blew by. He saw her shudder and attempt to snuggle into the coat.
He smiled and brushed a stray hair away from her face.
Isolde suddenly opened her eyes,
a bit confused at first. She didn't remember falling asleep here, but then her
lips curved upward in a smile as she spotted Harold. She sat up instantly,
feeling at her hair to make sure it was in place. He kissed her gently on the
lips, an attempt to stop her fussing...it worked.