City of Darkness and Light(21)

The steward let us in to my cabin. It was not the luxury I had experienced the last time I crossed the Atlantic from New York, but then that cabin had been first class. This one had a bunk bed on one wall, a built-in closet on the other with a small crib crammed in beside it. My trunk had been delivered and was taking up much of the remaining floor space.

“Zee bathrooms are to your right,” the steward said. “I leave you now and bid you bon voyage.”

Daniel shot me a worried glance. “It’s not exactly the Ritz, is it? Will you be all right?”

“It’s only for a few days, isn’t it?” I tried to put on a brave face because there really was no alternative.

Liam was wiggling to get down. I realized that I’d have my hands full watching over him on a ship in the ocean, with no Aggie to help me.

“I really should be getting back,” Daniel said. I knew that he hated emotional scenes and a long drawn-out good-bye was to be avoided at all costs.

I nodded. “Yes, I’d better unpack. Liam will want nursing soon.”

“Don’t come and see me off,” he said. “Better that way.”

I nodded again, not trusting myself to speak now. He took Liam from me, kissed him then held him out, looking at him. “Good-bye, son,” he said and put him into the crib. Then he took me into his arms. “Good-bye, my darling,” he whispered. “Take care of yourself.”

“And you too,” I whispered back and kissed him. The kiss conveyed all the passion and longing we couldn’t express in words. Then Liam started to cry and we broke apart.

“Watch out for those Frenchmen,” Daniel said, attempting to be jaunty now. “They can be very fresh, I hear.”

“I’ll look forward to the challenge. And what you don’t know can’t hurt you,” I teased back.

“I have to go,” he said again. As he opened the door I called after him. “Daniel. Take care. Don’t take any risks, please. I love you.”

He blew me a kiss and hurried off down the hall and out of sight. Liam was bawling lustily now, holding out his arms to be picked up. I wanted to be on deck and watch as we sailed out of New York harbor, but I had to put my child’s needs first. I picked him up, sat on the bottom bunk, opened my blouse front and put him to the breast. I felt the tension leave his body, and some of the tension left my own.

Suddenly the cabin door was flung open. I tried to jump up, bumping my head against the upper bunk, then tried to cover myself as an elderly woman came in. She stopped and stared when she saw me.

“What in God’s name?” she demanded. “What are you doing in my cabin?”

“I’m sorry but you’ve made a mistake. This is my cabin,” I said. “Cabin thirty-four, C deck. I have my ticket here.”

“There must be some mistake,” she said in a haughty voice. “This is definitely the cabin I was given because my friends are just across the hall. We asked for rooms together, you see. We’re traveling as a group, but there are five of us and I was the odd man out.”

“Maybe we’re supposed to be sharing,” I suggested, the thought not having occurred to me before. There were two bunks.

She stared down at me and my still-nursing baby, only partially covered by his robes that I had hastily pulled over me with distaste. “But they promised me,” she said. “I know it was supposed to be a two-berth cabin, but they told me the other berth would be unoccupied.”

“I’m afraid my decision to sail on this ship was made at the very last minute. The cabin would have been unoccupied when you booked it.”

“But I can’t possibly share with…” She frowned at us again and left the rest of the sentence hanging.

“Perhaps the purser will be able to find you alternative accommodation with somebody more suitable,” I said.

“I heard someone saying that the ship was completely full. Really this is too tiresome.” She gave an annoyed little sigh. Liam, now satisfied and curious to know with whom his mother was speaking lifted aside the layers of cotton and lace I had draped over him and peeked out at her. Her expression softened. “I’m sorry. That was most rude of me. If I am only paying for a berth in a double cabin, then I have to take my chances, don’t I? One must make the best of it, I suppose. And it’s really only to change clothing and sleep.”

“He’s normally a very good baby,” I said, hastily fastening my blouse buttons. “He sleeps through the night well.”

“I don’t doubt it. So it’s a little boy, is it? One can never tell.”

I looked down at his curls and white lace robes and smiled. “Impossible to tell. I don’t usually favor this amount of lace and ribbons but these garments were given to us. His name’s William but we call him Liam.”