Caribbean Sunset with a Yellow Parrot (The Belchester Chronicles Book 5) Page 3

  There was a lot of whispering, note-passing and sniggering going on that even involved Lady Amanda, and the butler’s antennae were fully alert for any mischief afoot. He would definitely have to be on his guard to see that the now elderly man came to no physical harm. Practical jokes were not acceptable from persons as venerable as this, and could have unexpectedly nasty results.

  Enid ate mechanically, chewing her fingernails in between courses as a sort of bizarre palate-cleanser, and looking forward to their new cabin which had been allocated to them just prior to dinner. ‘What do you think, Beauchamp?’ asked Lady A. ‘I didn’t think the pre-dinner cocktails were up to much – nothing like as good as yours.’

  ‘In my opinion,’ began Beauchamp, a smirk of professional superiority on his face, ‘I think they are skimping a little on some of the ingredients, and substituting inferior brands for others.’

  ‘They certainly know how to charge for them though, I noticed; and there’s a service charge on each one as well, in lieu of tips,’ added Hugo.

  ‘I do so dislike that,’ Lady Amanda re-joined the conversation. ‘When I was younger, one was allowed to leave a tip at the end of a meal or event, and its size depended on how good one considered the service one had received to have been. This system is so unfair, in that it rewards the mediocre and penalises the really dedicated staff.’

  ‘Then, may I suggest that we still leave or give a suitable tip to anyone from whom we consider we have received exceptional service?’ asked Fflageolet, her voice high and piping, giving some credence to her nickname from childhood.

  ‘Jolly good idea, old bean,’ agreed the equally tiny figure of Longshanks. ‘There’s a guy does my cabin who’s been an absolute darling so far. Every time I go back to it, he’s folded my towels into swans, and he puts chocolate mints and a flower on my bed.’

  ‘Gosh, you are fortunate,’ said Wuffles, running her fingers through her dog-like wavy hair. ‘I’m lucky if my bottled water’s been renewed; and nothing I’ve used from the mini-bar has been replaced either, and it’s just about empty now. I wish they hadn’t been so thorough in depriving us of any alcohol we wished to bring on the trip.

  ‘I know we’ll get it back in the end, but it really is like being in a police state.’

  ‘They have to do that or they'll lose profits from their sales of drinks,’ Lady Amanda pointed out. ‘It just means we’ll have more to get through when we get there, and Beauchamp can make us some proper cocktails.’

  ‘But …’ interrupted Beauchamp.

  ‘Don’t worry your head. There are staff where we’re staying, and mixing cocktails is all I shall ask you to do. The rest of your time is free to do what you want … with whomever you want,’ she added wickedly.

  Both newlyweds blushed.

  ‘And not all of us got so thoroughly frisked.’ Horseface’s comment brought the conversation to an end.

  Chapter Three

  The party had not long retired for the night when there was a surreptitious tapping on the door of the suite that Lady Amanda and Hugo were sharing, and she opened the door to reveal Wuffles, wrapped in a towel and holding a bottle of wine and some plastic cups. ‘What the heck’s this in aid of? It’s three minutes past midnight, you know.’

  ‘That’s right, and that’s why I’m here,’ replied Wuffles mysteriously.

  ‘Is that Fflageolet I see creeping down the corridor behind you?’

  ‘Of course it is. Midnight pool party for us old girls. Get your towel and meet us in the pool area. Have you forgotten so soon what we planned at dinner? Everyone who managed to buy or smuggle some booze aboard is bringing it: not quite all of it got confiscated,’ replied the towel-clad figure, as other shadowy shapes, similarly wrapped, joined her. ‘See you and Hugo in five.’

  ‘Wake up, Hugo!’ Lady A trumpeted. ‘You’ve been invited to an exclusive pool party with the old girls’ brigade. Get your swimmers on.’

  ‘Whaa …?’ moaned Hugo, sitting up in bed to find his eyes fixed upon Lady A’s ample behind, as she pawed her way through the bottom of her side of the closet.

  Quickly averting his gaze, he asked her what she thought she was doing. ‘Pool party, Hugo. Get your trunks on. You can use the bathroom to change, as I’m going to get into my cozzie in here.’

  Hugo harrumphed into one of his clothes drawers and came out holding something that could have been a khaki flag, if such a thing existed, flung it over his shoulder, and disappeared into the tiny bathroom, still making huffing noises of general disapproval.

  When he knocked discreetly, and was readmitted to the stateroom proper, he was startled by what confronted him. ‘Manda!’ he exclaimed. ‘Whatever do you think you’re wearing?’

  ‘My swimming costume.’

  ‘But it’s bright pink.’

  ‘I’d hate to be lost at sea off the island. I thought the colour might help to identify my drowning body being dragged out to the deep.’

  ‘But what is that thing round your waist? It’s exactly the same colour. You have got it on over your swimming costume and not under it, haven’t you?’

  ‘Of course I have. It’s my matching rubber ring. I can’t actually swim, you know. Or, at least, I did once, and someone’s got it on film, but once I’d had the evidence taken, I decided I didn’t like it and would never do it again.’

  ‘So, how do you propose to get out of the cabin door?’ asked Hugo biting his lip, when he looked at her width, and that of the door frame.

  ‘Blast. I shall have to let it down a bit,’ she snapped, pulling out the plastic bung. Now having time to consider her friend’s get-up, she declared, ‘Hugo, you’ve got a hairy chest.’

  ‘I’m allowed to have. I am a man, you know,’ he retorted.

  ‘Of course you are, but not one I’ve ever seen in a state of undress before.’

  At this description of his current state of dishabille, Hugo put his hands where he would have done were he a footballer in the wall facing a free kick. ‘I’ve got everything necessary covered,’ he snapped at her.

  ‘For now,’ she replied, enigmatically.

  ‘Whatever do you mean by that?’ he asked, transferring his forefingers to cover his naked nipples.

  ‘Those girls can get awfully playful when they’ve had a few drinks. Oh, stop making faces and follow me, you coward.’ Hugo did as he was told, but not without great trepidation.

  When they reached the pool deck, she got Hugo to join her at a bench which had a canopy above it for daytime shade, and got him down sufficiently to blow up her ring again. For that, he had to sit on the bench, because his knees still weren’t at their best, not having been run-in yet, as they were quite new, and it was with a great whoop of glee that Droopy-Drawers and Horseface came upon them.

  ‘What have we here, then? A little bit of foreplay, or the real thing?’ chortled Horseface.

  ‘Hugo is merely blowing up my ring,’ replied Lady Amanda with as much dignity as she could muster.

  ‘That’s exactly what it looks like, old fruit,’ commented Droopy-Drawers.

  ‘My rubber ring, you fools!’

  ‘Any accessories used in the pursuit of love are OK by me.’

  ‘My swimming ring. Crikey, can’t a girl wear a rubber ring anymore without someone accusing her of being a pervert?’

  ‘We’ll leave you two to it, and we’ll see you in the water. By the way, Hugo, nice legs.’ Hugo immediately stopped huffing and puffing into the little plastic tube and covered what he could of his legs with his towel.

  ‘Hugo. Pay attention. All the air’s coming out of my ring.’ The penny finally dropped with Hugo concerning the subject of the girls’ mirth, and this final comment reduced him to tears of laughter.

  ‘Put the stopper in for now. I need time to get my breath back,’ he managed to say through his gales of ungentlemanly laughter.

  ‘As the actress said to the bishop,’ muttered Lady Amanda under her breath, wishing that Enid had been here to carry out this
procedure instead of Hugo.

  The galumphing and horseplay in the water lasted for about an hour, Hugo returning to the bench in a huff after only twenty minutes, after they had deprived him of his trunks. He had eventually managed to recapture them from between Horseface’s teeth, and made himself respectable again before climbing out. Lady Amanda joined him as the hour drew to a close.

  ‘They do play rough, don’t they,’ he confirmed, his forehead still creased in displeasure.

  ‘They’re just a mite lively and excited about being together again,’ his cabin-mate replied.

  ‘Well, I just hope they calm down, or I’m going to spend the bulk of this holiday up a gum-tree, or in this case, hiding up a palm tree. They need a bit of decorum, that’s what they need.’

  ‘Never mind, Hugo. I don’t think anyone caught sight of your winkle.’

  ‘My what?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘But …’

  ‘Shh, Hugo. I can hear someone down the other side of the deck.’

  ‘What can you hear, Manda?’

  ‘Shh!’ she hissed back. ‘It’s a sort of scraping sound. And, what’s that?’

  ‘What’s what?’

  ‘I distinctly heard a splash.’

  ‘I didn’t.’

  ‘You’re going deaf. I’m going to take a look to see what’s going on. The others have all cleared off.’

  ‘At this time of night?’

  ‘It sounded sinister to me.’ This was all conducted in hushed voices. They were, therefore, very surprised to hear distinct footsteps approaching them from round the corner of the sheltered spot, and to be greeted in normal tones by Douglas Huddlestone-Black.

  ‘Good evening, or should I say, good morning?’

  ‘What are you doing up at this hour?’ Lady Amanda challenged him.

  ‘I could say the same about you two. Out for a bit of hanky-panky, are you?’

  ‘Indeed we are not,’ replied Lady A, snorting with a sound like a hippopotamus coming up for air. ‘We were with the girls for a midnight swim.’

  ‘A likely tale,’ the impertinent, white-haired but still undeniably handsome, man retorted. ‘Where are they all now?’

  ‘They’ve only just left.’

  ‘A likely story. Tell that to the Marines,’ he replied with a little smirk.

  ‘And what were you up to, may we ask?’ Lady Amanda made so bold.

  ‘Game of cards on the foredeck. Just finished, and thought I’d have a little stroll before turning in,’ he replied with an air of insouciance. Hugo kept schtum. Life with his old friend was easier that way.

  ‘Did you hear a sort of dragging sound and a splash just now?’ she challenged him, thinking his game of cards was more of the imaginary sort than a real one.

  ‘No, sorry. Did you?’

  ‘Definitely.’ Lady A felt determined to get to the bottom of what she had just aurally witnessed.

  ‘Then it was probably one of the crew getting rid of some rubbish over the side – something a bit iffy that he couldn’t put into the general trash.’

  ‘Harumph! Highly unlikely, I’d have thought,’ she shot back at him.

  ‘Well, as I neither heard nor saw anything, I shall bid you goodnight and, no doubt, see you tomorrow.’

  ‘Definitely suspect,’ she muttered, as he strolled off, whistling.

  Chapter Four

  None of the reunion party rose in time for breakfast the next day, and some sore heads were in evidence but, having missed breakfast, they knew there was twenty-four-hour food available in one of the buffet-style restaurants, and decided to partake of brunch instead. If they didn’t pile their plates too high, they might just have room for lunch itself in a couple of hours.

  People sat around in the cane chairs stuffing their faces with hot dogs, quarter-pounders, chicken strips, and chips while water dripped from their bodies on to the floor.

  ‘I do wish they wouldn’t allow people to come into a dining room straight out of the pool,’ sighed Lady Amanda in disapproval. ‘If anything I put on my plate tastes of chlorine, I shall make a very noisy and pointed complaint.’

  ‘Oh, quit whining, Manda. I’m starved.’ This was Droopy-Drawers, who had not suffered as much from the after-effects of alcohol as some of the others, and was raring to tuck into the various delights displayed for their dining pleasure.

  Whatever hangover cures had been employed, their appetites soon returned, and plates were piled high with sausages, tomatoes, scrambled eggs, rolls, and even pancakes and maple syrup, which Lady Amanda had discovered were delicious when eaten with savoury food. Only Hugo remained intimidated by the barely-clad bodies filling the tables, and sat with his back to them as best he could. He said the sight of so much bare flesh made him lose his appetite.

  ‘Have you seen the pecs and the tan on that one over there?’ asked Wuffles, like a silly teenager. On receiving a number of disapproving stares, she retorted, ‘Well, a girl can dream, can’t she? And with a bit of surgery, I could aspire to being a rich plaything with a fit toyboy.’

  ‘A little surgery? You’d need so much there’d be a whole pile of leftovers for the surgeon’s dog,’ pointed out Longshanks, who then snorted into her chips. ‘And you’d still look like an old hag.’

  ‘Well, at least I wouldn’t need a whole personality transplant so that I sounded like a human being,’ Wuffles batted back, before Fflageolet interrupted and told them to quit it.

  ‘I know how you two used to fight at school, but we could do without that sort of childish skirmish on holiday. Now, stop it and call a truce until we get on the plane back home. And if you two decide to move out there, I suggest you live as far apart as possible from each other.’

  ‘Hear hear!’ Lady A encouraged Fflageolet. ‘It used to be like separating a pair of fighting dogs at school.’

  ‘Looking costs nothing,’ mumbled Wuffles, returning to her plate.

  ‘And neither does pure hatred,’ said Longshanks, only very, very quietly.

  ‘Oh God, here we go again,’ mouthed Lady Amanda, but totally silently.

  At lunch, two factions had emerged, being sat this lunchtime at different tables. Hugo was quite upset but, as Lady Amanda pointed out to him, they had kept in touch all these years, and those two had always been like that. Wuffles and Longshanks were separated by the width of the room, and accompanied by Droopy-Drawers had also managed to capture Douglas Huddlestone-Black for their table.

  Horseface and Fflageolet sat with her and Hugo, so there was an even split. Beauchamp and Enid had not shown up for the meal and, either they had had room service, dined at a different time, or given lunch a complete miss. Still, it was their honeymoon after all, and Lady Amanda rather hoped they’d get that sort of thing out of their systems on the way over, so that Beauchamp could concentrate on making cocktails for the whole party once they were ensconced in their temporary island homes.

  They left the dining table about half-past one, all but Lady Amanda and Hugo going off to their cabins for a siesta after their alcohol-fuelled very late night. The pair still standing had not indulged much in the old drinky-poos; therefore Hugo was dragged off to play deck games, as the rest of the ship was just waking up after its turn-in between four and six a.m.

  They started with shuffleboard, which was going fine until Hugo managed to shuffle his puck into a group of young girls who were wearing the nearest thing to nothing in the bikini department, and they decided to make a fuss of him. It took Lady Amanda ten minutes to disentangle him, and a further fifteen for him to stop blushing. ‘Three of them pinched my bottom, Manda, and another one – I didn’t see which – actually cupped my, er, um, meat and two, er, veg, in one of her hands,’ he squeaked, going pink again.

  ‘That’s a bit rum, getting your winkle fondled by a young girl,’ retorted Lady A before she could think, then added, ‘I’ll just get us something to perk us up a bit.’ She was suddenly embarrassed for her shy old friend, and took herself off to the pool b
ar, where she ordered two large brightly coloured cups of rum punch.

  On her return, Hugo grabbed his gratefully, and gulped most of it down. ‘I needed that!’ he sighed, handing it back to her for a refill.

  ‘What did your last slave die of?’ she replied, then added, ‘Why don’t you take off your tie, or at least put on a T-shirt and a pair of shorts? There’s no need for such a formal outfit aboard.’ He was, even at sea, wearing a suit, for all the world like he was in an office or at a meeting!

  ‘I haven’t got anything else,’ he retorted, to her retreating back. ‘I’ve never been anywhere warm before.’

  After he had drunk his second large cocktail, Lady Amanda dragged him off to the ship’s shop and ordered him to select half a dozen T-shirts and a similar number of pairs of shorts, plus a couple of pairs of flip-flops. Instead of making the fuss that she had expected, he became girlishly giggly as he held up garment after garment, actually filling a large bag with his purchases, which Lady A returned to their stateroom before dragging him off to try deck quoits.

  He now wore a Hawaiian-style short-sleeved shirt, a floppy white hat that would have graced any donkey, and a pair of turquoise knee-length shorts. On his feet were flip-flops, which he had begun to complain about as soon as he had tried walking in them. ‘They’re impossible, Manda. How do I get them to stay on? Glue?’

  ‘Just curl your toes, and the thong thingy between your toes should help.’

  ‘What thong thingy between what toes?’

  Lady Amanda looked down, and her mouth fell open. ‘I simply do not believe you, Hugo. That rubber thong goes between your big toe and the one next to it. I’ve never in my life met anyone who tried to wear flip-flops sideways. You’re a one-off, you are, getting in such a flip-flop flap.’

  She adjusted his footwear, and he had to admit that he could walk again, and that they were really most comfortable. ‘Never tried anything like it in my life,’ he almost sang. ‘I feel so free.’

  Approaching the area for deck quoits, Lady Amanda handed him a rope quoit, pointed in the right direction, and told him to feel free to start the game anytime he felt like it. With this, she threw her first rope ring with exquisite accuracy. Hugo threw his overboard.