"This is a very nice pillow," Mrs. P said, giving it a long look.
I opened the door to find two women in their sixties wearing identical one-piece bathing suits swathed with gauze wraps.
"Oh, goodness!" said the shorter of the two. She had washed-out reddish-blond hair, and was, like myself, on the fluffy side. Her companion had short dark curls shot through with gray, and a long, lean figure that boded of a metabolism of the gods. "What a fright you gave me! Barbs, did you see me jump? I must have cleared at least a foot."
"Hullo," the tall one said. She tried to peer past me into the room, but I didn't need anyone seeing Mrs. P trying to appropriate a throw pillow, so I blocked their view and quickly closed the door. "Going out to see the ship, are you? We're on the way to the pool."
"Hello," I said politely, and shook both women's hands when they were offered.
"We're Ken and Barbie," the shorter woman said with a little apologetic laugh. "I know, right? It's actually Kendra and Barbara, but all our friends call us Ken and Barbie, and it's become second nature by now. You're Sophea, aren't you? I heard the captain talking about you. You're American? We're from Ireland, although you wouldn't know it the way Barbs speaks. She's veddy, veddy BBC neutral."
Barbie was in the process of giving me a good visual once-over. She nodded as her companion spoke, but other than saying, "Pleased to meet you," didn't offer much to the conversation.
"Yes, I'm Sophea. I was just on my way to find a steward or ship person to see if there is a shop on board. I wasn't sure if there was because it's so small, but I am praying there is because otherwise everyone is going to get tired of seeing my employer and me in the same clothes."
"Your employer?" Barbie asked at the same time Ken made a face and said, "Dear me, dear me. Lost your luggage, did you?"
"Something like that."
"You must have a generous employer to take you on this trip," Barbie said.
With the memory of the scene Mrs. P had made in the tea shop uppermost in mind, I gave them both a bland smile and declined to comment on the eccentric old lady who was probably even now stripping the cabin bare of all she could stuff into her luggage. "Very generous."
"There is a shop," Ken said excitedly, waving her hand toward her midsection. "We got our suits and these darling wraps there! I didn't know there was going to be a pool on board. Honestly, the thought of swimming in a pool sailing on a ship just seems like the height of decadence, doesn't it? And at night! But it's so warm out, it's like swimming during the day."
"It certainly does seem decadent. Where is the shop located?"
"On the lowest deck. That's two below us. It's right next to the first aid. You can't miss it."
"Awesome, thank you. I'll head right down there."
"Have fun!" Ken said chirpily. "We'll let you know how the pool is. Honestly, a late-night swim in a pool while sailing down a river … it's just so crazy, isn't it, Barbums?"
Her voice drifted off as they headed upstairs to the pool.
I poked my head back into the cabin. "There's a shop where we can buy clothing. Are you ready?"
"For many things," Mrs. P replied, coming forward, making a good attempt to hide a scarf that had been draped decoratively along an end table. "What did you have in mind? Will I be required to dance? I have a scarf, if so."
"No dancing, and you're going to put that and anything else you've pilfered back later," I told her sternly, taking her arm and escorting her down the passageway.
It took us a bit to get there, since the ship, a small river cruising variety, was not one of those behemoths that roam the ocean and didn't have elevators, but at last we made it to the lowest level of the ship, where the shop was tucked away. Inside the shop was a tiny desk holding a variety of travel-size items like aspirin, shampoo, and razors. A couple of t-shirts bedecked the wall, as well as a stand containing a variety of the same navy blue one-piece swimsuit as I'd just seen on the two Irish women. There were also a couple of men's trunks in pale salmon and a box displaying sunscreen.
But no everyday clothing.
"Hello," I said to the woman who was on her knees setting out some sort of anti-viral hand sanitizer. "I was told that you had some clothing available for purchase. Do you have anything more than swimsuits and t-shirts?"
"I want a swimsuit," Mrs. P said, and plucked one from the wall, holding it up to herself. "I shall bathe my soul with my sisters in the light of the morning sun."
"Bound to be chilly then," I pointed out. "But if you really want one, that's fine with me."
"All our costumes are behind the screen," the shop woman said in heavily accented English, nodding toward a fabric screen that had been angled to hide the back part of the room.
Costumes? I shook my head as I scooted around the screen, assuming it must have been an odd phrasing.
I stared at the collection of sparky, bespangled, and billowing tulle offerings that hung from a variety of hooks and available coat hangers.
"No, she meant costumes," I said, my heart falling.
"What sort of costumes-oooh!" Mrs. P pushed past me into the secluded area, and perused the offerings with a delight. "Fancy dress! This trip will be more fun than I thought. I like this one."
I eyed the skimpy Cleopatra-esque outfit, and didn't say a single thing.
At least, not about that.
"Hello again," I said, popping my head around the screen. "I'm sorry to bother you, but these appear to be all costume party outfits. Do you have anything normal? That is, not meant for a costume contest?"
The woman didn't even look up from her bottle arranging. "This is not that sort of a shop. We provide costumes for the patrons who did not bring one for the final evening costume party."
"Great. Just … great." I turned back to where Mrs. P was struggling to get her gauze tunic off so she could try on what appeared to be a harem girl outfit. "I assume we'll stop somewhere tomorrow where we can get some clothes. I guess we can just wear what we have-Mrs. P, no!"
I was too late. She'd already shucked her clothes and had donned the blue marabou and sequin harem top. The floofy chiffon pants followed, and she admired herself in the mirror with little noises of satisfaction.
"Yes, that is quite nice. It's a very … striking … outfit," I agreed when she asked what I thought. I noticed a glint of gold in her wrinkled belly skin and figured that was just so Mrs. P to get her belly button pierced at her advanced age.
"I shall wear it tonight to the champagne reception," she said, wrapping a matching blue marabou boa around her waist, hiding the wrinkles, and making the outfit a little less risqué. "Everyone will admire it."
"That they will." I refrained from pointing out that the ensemble was not quite suited to someone of her advanced years, since it wasn't my place to make judgments. Besides, if she was comfortable wearing the costume and she liked it, then who was I to ruin her fun?
There remained the subject of my own less than sterling appearance. I brushed a hand down my badly wrinkled and grubby pants, and tried not to think of how much fun it was going to be to hand-wash my undies each night.
"I really would like to get something else to wear … " I bit my lower lip, trying to decide if I should spend some of my precious money to get a costume or just tough it out and keep wearing what I had on.
The idea of seeing Rowan, the ever cool and collected, while I looked like something that had been dragged around the desert, drove me into action.
"Right. Let me find something that isn't too obnoxious."
Mrs. P held up a sexy nurse outfit.
"Not in a million years. Is there something here less revealing?" I poked through the offerings, finding fault with all of them. "No to Cleopatra rig, hell no to the naughty housemaid, the female vampire might have possibilities if it were not for the plunging neckline and thigh slits on either side of the slinky skirt. What's that? Oh. No, definitely not a catsuit."
Mrs. P pulled a dark brown leather costume out from behind a pink marabou baby doll and gave it a jaded look. "This covers most of your bosom."
I looked over at where she was pointing. She was holding what I thought of as a Xena, Warrior Princess outfit, with a leather corset top embellished with decorative swirls of metal around the boobs, the bodice of which did, indeed, cover everything in the torso. Accompanying it was a knee-length skirt made of strips of studded leather, a sword and back scabbard, and a pair of lace-up sandals.
I held the corset top up to myself and examined my reflection. "I'm not sure … a sword? Strapped to my back? Really? That'll just get in the way."