Damned by Logic Read online

  ‘A four-masted barque,’ she said, as she used a hand to shade her eyes from the sun.

  ‘Barque? When they said windjammer, I thought she’d be a full-size sailing boat.’

  ‘Ship. A barque isn’t named from her size, but her sails. Square-rigged for’d, fore-and-aft at the stern. She’s maybe three thousand tons.’

  They drew abeam; passengers waved, a greeting poorly returned, perhaps because of contempt for those who sailed in luxury. As the minutes passed, the hull, the sails, and finally the mastheads slipped below the horizon.

  ‘How my brother would have liked to see her,’ she said.

  ‘You have no video camera, essential equipment for a tourist?’

  ‘I’ve never taken a film which hasn’t been out of focus.’

  He looked at his watch. ‘May I offer you a drink?’ he ventured. She was still being friendly, so what did he have to lose?

  ‘With pleasure.’

  They walked aft to the Bar Orpheus which provided a semicircular view of sky and sea, the latter split by their wake.

  ‘What would you like?’ he asked, as they sat at one of the tables.

  ‘A daiquiri, please.’

  ‘I’ll join you.’ He called the bar steward over and gave the order.

  There were two small china bowls on the table; cocktail biscuits were in one, peanuts in the other. She chose a biscuit, nibbled. ‘Did you live for long near Palma?’

  ‘For something over six months.’

  ‘Recently?’

  ‘A few years ago. When I was young enough to believe that a good degree in English would enable me to write a novel which would have the critics thumbing through Roget’s Thesaurus for ever more words of praise.’

  ‘And it didn’t or they didn’t?’

  ‘Publishers aren’t as thick as writers like to believe them to be. The script was regularly returned until I accepted it was unpublishable.’

  ‘So then?’

  ‘I presumed I wouldn’t enjoy starving and should find a job. Having a slight facility with words and accepting that the more absurd the claim, the more readily it will be received, I went into public relations.’

  ‘Something you still do?’

  ‘That I’m doing now.’

  ‘On a Mediterranean cruise?’

  ‘My firm has the Rex Cruising Company on its books. I was told to project an advertising campaign which would wow the stay-at-homes. I was provided with a berth to heighten my appreciation of the wonderful pleasures the company’s ships offered: the advantage of one-class only, the chance to enjoy new, long-lasting friendships, the haute cuisine meals ... And so on.’

  ‘You find that an easy task?’

  ‘Not too difficult since I have a fertile imagination and a talent for hypocrisy.’

  The bar steward brought them their drinks, apologized for the time taken due to the need to draw more limes from Stores.

  Ansell raised his glass. ‘To health, happiness, and wealth.’

  ‘It’s absurd!’

  ‘Which of the last two?’

  ‘We’re chatting away and don’t know each other’s names.’

  ‘Easily overcome. David Ansell, twenty-eight, married.’

  ‘Melanie Caine, slightly over twenty-one, divorced.’

  ‘Let’s drink to Melanie and David on their introduction.’ He raised his glass and met her eyes as she too joined her glass to his.

  They drank. She put down her glass. ‘Is your wife aboard?’

  ‘At home.’

  ‘She dislikes the sea?’

  ‘My company watches the cents, so I was provided with one bunk in a double cabin.’

  There was another public announcement. ‘Tonight, there will be a dance, beginning at twenty-two hundred hours. For those who have not yet gained their sea-legs, that is ten o’clock this evening. We hope the girls will wear their most gorgeous gowns and there will be an award to the wearer of the one that the judges most admire. Bruce and Hazel who, you will remember, appeared in Strictly Come Dancing, will be giving an exhibition of the tango and samba so you’ll learn how to wiggle seductively. Later, they will judge which couple are the best dancers and the lucky pair will win a special prize.’

  ‘A good P.R. address?’ she asked lightly.

  ‘A shambles.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘The assumption that listeners will not know or be able to work out what time twenty-two hundred hours is; that the mainly elderly passengers can remember how to wiggle.’

  She gave a smile and then looked at her watch. ‘I’d better go and spruce up for dinner.’

  ‘Are you going to the dance?’

  ‘Probably not. It can be dull if one doesn’t know anyone.’

  ‘They’ll make it a jolly affair with lots of Paul Joneses.’

  ‘Very unlikely when no one under eighty knows what that is.’

  ‘Then may I offer myself to try to stave off boredom?’ Ansell asked tentatively, doubting so young and attractive a woman would want to spend time with him.

  She smiled. ‘It’s a case of, I thought you’d never ask.’

  ‘D’you know what I’d like to do now?’ she asked as they waited for the main crush of people to leave the ballroom.

  ‘Soak your feet in warm, soft water.’

  ‘You didn’t tread on them once. I want to go out on deck and enjoy the beauty of a moonbeam across water.’

  They went up to the top deck which provided an unobstructed view of the moonlight across the sea. She linked her arm with his as they reached the after teak handrail.

  ‘Up to expectations?’ he asked after a couple of minutes.

  ‘Magical. Who said that to enjoy beauty too long was to lose one’s love of the life we lead.’

  ‘I’ve no idea.’

  ‘You should have if you’re going to write the great novel.’

  ‘An ambition buried when I finally decided Dickens wouldn’t be getting off his pedestal.’

  ‘I’m feeling tired, David, so I think I’ll make for bed.’

  ‘Surely bunk?’

  She laughed, squeezed his arm, released hers. ‘My task now is to navigate my way down to my cabin amidst the maze of alleyways and cross-alleyways.’

  They went below to E deck and cabin thirty-five. She unlocked the door. ‘I’m lucky and have this to myself. The intended cabin companion fell ill so her misfortune became my fortune. So much more comfortable to be on my own.’

  Without conscious thought and to his annoyance, a question slipped into his mind.

  Was she merely expressing the average person’s reluctance to share sleeping space with a stranger? When the band had played old-fashioned music to please the majority of passengers, she had nestled against him and he had become aware of the swell of her breasts and the brush of her thighs.

  ‘Sweet dreams, Taffy.’

  ‘Taffy?’

  She smiled, went into the cabin, closed the door.

  TWO

  They were thirty-six hours in Naples. Melanie demanded they be proper tourists and join the tour of Pompeii even though their guide would be the redhead crew member whose jokes they found to be even more dismal than those of others in Entertainment.

  After a time viewing the ruins, the guide brought them to a halt. ‘As I explained earlier, we are now in a semi-restricted area. Are any of you ladies under age?’

  There were a few giggles.

  On the first villa they entered, there were explicit murals on one wall. Most women allowed themselves disapproving glances, Melanie studied a mural depicting couples in various and sometimes complicated positions. ‘D’you think the man on the right is double-jointed?’ she asked.

  When Ansell didn’t quickly answer, she turned to face him. ‘I’ve embarrassed you?’

  ‘You mistake surprise for embarrassment.’

  ‘Surprised I asked?’

  ‘That you seem not to know that only a handful of mammals, not including man, have bones in the object in q
uestion.’

  ‘I learn something new every day.’

  ‘For once, ignorance might be condoned.’

  Melanie laughed. A nearby, elderly woman looked disapprovingly at her. She murmured, ‘I’ve just shocked the old biddy over there. Very improper to be amused by sex.’

  ‘Observed dispassionately, it does offer some of the most amusing moments known to mankind. Chaucer knew that when he wrote The Miller’s Tale.’

  ‘I’ve heard that that is pretty risqué.’

  ‘Depends on one’s sense of humour.’

  ‘D’you think there’ll be a copy in the library?’

  ‘I doubt it. Not to the literary taste of the average cruise passenger.’

  ‘Then you can tell me the story later.’

  Her manner intrigued, perplexed, confused him. Her unsubtle interest in sex could indicate to an active mind that an advance would not be rejected. Yet when he saw her down to her cabin at night, he was dismissed. In schoolboy terms, was she actually just a prick-tease?

  The lights of Naples merged into a glow and dimmed into extinction. One of the latest, highly praised films was shown in the cinema after dinner that night.

  ‘Why do they make such gloomy films?’ she asked, as they walked out of the cinema after most other viewers had left.

  ‘Truer to life. What would you like now?’

  They walked arm-in-arm along the alleyway, untroubled by the slight movement of the ship.

  ‘I’d like to be cheered up.’

  ‘I’m not very good at telling jokes,’ he said. ‘I either forget the punchline or mess it up. How about a cheerful drink?’

  ‘Liquor is a depressant.’

  ‘Champagne is a guarantee of carefree fun. Halfway through the first glass, you’ll be gay.’

  ‘I hope not.’

  ‘Apologies. I still think of the word in its old sense.’

  ‘You said you were only twenty-eight.’

  ‘Part of me seems to live in the past.’

  They went up to Bar Orpheus. The bar steward asked if they would like Moet et Chandon, Mumm, or Veuve Clicquot. Ansell chose the last.

  ‘What are we going to do when we’ve finished our drinks?’ Melanie enquired, possibly with a twinkle in her eye.

  ‘Have another.’

  ‘You want me flat on my back?’

  ‘You leave me tongue-tied.’

  She laughed.

  Twenty minutes later, the bar steward brought them two more filled glasses. Ansell raised his. ‘To us.’

  ‘We drink to ourselves?’

  ‘What happier toast?’

  ‘I hope ...’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Never mind. When are you going to carry out your promise?’

  ‘What promise?’

  ‘To relate The Miller’s Tale to me.’

  ‘I said no such thing.’

  ‘It was when we were looking at the Romans having fun.’

  ‘Imagination. In any case, I can’t remember how the story goes well enough to remember who does what to whom.’

  ‘A futile excuse.’

  ‘Would I lie to you?’

  ‘Probably. Maybe you were wrong and there is a copy of the tales in the ship’s library.’

  ‘When it would replace a Barbara Cartland epic?’

  ‘You scorn love stories?’

  ‘When it is inevitable that they’ll end happily.’

  ‘A dislike based on personal experience?’

  ‘Why ask?’

  ‘Over these few days, you’ve said one or two things which made me wonder.’

  He possessed the dated belief that matrimonial problems should remain personal. ‘Best not to wonder.’

  When they left the bar, they walked along the alleyway to a lift.

  ‘Which deck are you?’ he asked as the doors closed.

  ‘You don’t remember?’

  ‘Afraid not.’

  ‘E deck. But you do know the number of my cabin?’

  ‘Sorry, no.’

  ‘The man’s not interested in cabins,’ she told the lift.

  The doors opened at E deck.

  She took hold of his hand. ‘Anyone as unobservant as you needs help.’ She led the way out, turned to starboard, came to a halt at cabin thirty-five. She released his hand, unlocked the door. ‘Thank you for escorting me.’ She kissed him on the lips. ‘A verray, parfit gentil knyght!’ There was laughter in her eyes.

  ‘You’ve read The Canterbury Tales,’ he said accusingly.

  ‘I had to study some of them for exams,’ she explained with a smile.

  ‘Including The Miller’s Tale?’

  ‘Far too entertaining to be made the subject of an exam. I read that in my own time.’

  ‘Why the hell didn’t you tell me you knew it?’ He assumed the guise of a man made a fool of and looked away.

  She kissed him again, now with lips parted. ‘As the poor miller learned, the past can be inexplicable.’ She went into the cabin, did not shut the door this time.

  He stared at her, like a teenager, knowing he was a fool yet wondering, hoping.

  ‘You said it was wrong of me to persuade him to buy you for me, didn’t you, Georgie?’ she said as she picked up the toy Barbary ape she had persuaded him to buy for her that first day they spent together, on the half-day trip to Gibraltar. She replaced it on the sofa. ‘I promise not to persuade him to do anything else,’ she said to the toy monkey, with her teasing eye trained on Ansell who was still lingering in the doorway of her cabin.

  She unbuttoned her dress, drew it up and over her head, carefully placed it on a hanger. She took off an embroidered slip; she wore no brassiere. She began to lower her embroidered pants, looked up. ‘Are you waiting for an engraved invitation?’

  THREE

  The Helios passed through The Pillars of Hercules and turned north. The Bay of Biscay was not rough, but foretold the weather that TV reports suggested was likely to be expected on their arrival in the UK – strengthening cold winds and overcast skies; few passengers chose to remain on the open decks. Waves smacked against the hull and occasionally the spray reached up to render the lower port holes briefly opaque.

  Melanie and Ansell continued to enjoy their pre-dinner drinks in Bar Orpheus. The bar steward, judging shipboard romance would make Ansell a generous tipper, was quick to serve them and make certain the small bowls on their table were filled with cocktail biscuits, salted almonds and peanuts.

  On this, their last evening, the waiter brought them their orders and, trying to make a final good impression on them – in the hope it would increase his evening’s tip – remarked they would probably be glad to hear the sea was not expected to become any rougher that night.

  ‘Are you a good sailor?’ Melanie asked Ansell as the bar steward left.

  ‘Normally, yes, until the seagulls make for shore.’

  She drank, replaced her glass, picked up two salted almonds, did not immediately put them in her mouth. ‘I spent a small fortune in that last shop we went into in Lisbon.’

  ‘I did notice!’

  ‘The quality of the embroidery was so wonderful.’

  ‘I look forward to seeing you wearing them.’

  ‘But will you?’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘You’re married.’

  He was silent. There was no comeback to that.

  ‘Have you considered a divorce?’

  ‘No.’ He said it in a tone laced with both pain, guilt and anger.

  ‘I’m a fifteen-day entertainment?’

  ‘How can you suggest that?’ he demanded. ‘I haven’t thought about divorce until this trip and since then, for me, all reality has vanished.’

  ‘Your wife will surely bring it back?’

  He found it difficult to give an answer which would please either of them. Luckily for Ansell, Melanie didn’t feel the need to pursue that train of conversation.

  Three hours later, in her cabin, reality became a mural in Pompeii
.

  He awoke.

  ‘I was beginning to think you should be called Rip van Winkle,’ she observed.

  After endless years of sleep, Rip van Winkle had awoken to learn his termagant wife had died. Ansell studied Melanie. She sat on a chair at an angle which caused the light from the port to sharpen her profile. A morally destructive, impossibly desirable woman.

  ‘I don’t know what to do, Taffy,’ she said.

  ‘Come here and I’ll show you.’

  ‘Whilst you’ve been snoring ...’

  ‘I never snore.’

  ‘Whilst you’ve been snoring, I’ve packed and can’t get Georgie into either of my cases.’

  ‘Carry him.’

  ‘A dolly at my age?’

  ‘Why do you call him Georgie?’

  ‘After a boyfriend who gave me a fortune.’

  ‘I hate him.’

  ‘You’re wasting your spleen. He was six and I was five, the fortune was a sixpenny piece which he said was pure silver. Soon afterwards, his family moved north and I never saw him again. I was heartbroken.’

  He laughed.

  ‘You’re being cruel.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘You’re still laughing inside.’

  ‘I’m feeling sorry for the emotional suffering you endured.’

  ‘Liar! Could you find room for Georgie in your case?’

  ‘Only with a real squash.’

  ‘He’s very resilient. And you’re being very slow. Find room for him and I know I’ll see you when you return him to me. Or maybe you won’t want to see me again; for you, it’s just been light entertainment.’

  ‘You know it’s been the most exciting, intoxicating time of my life.’

  ‘But it’s still a case of, that’s it?’

  ‘Can’t you understand?’

  ‘You’re in a duff marriage, but at home you’re a man of honour. Doesn’t matter how desperately I’ll want to be with you again, to become so horny I’ll explode.’

  As for Ansell’s home life, and future physical comforts, the coming days, weeks and months were fixed. Eileen had demanded two beds in their bedroom. She would undress and put on night clothes in the bathroom. She would expect him to kiss her goodnight, but her lips would be closed. If he made a mistake – there had been times when experience had been overtaken by desire – she would quickly reinforce experience. Melanie offered an escape from frustration.