The Glassblower(154)

But now, here on the gangway, there was nothing to distract from the question of what would happen if her papers were found to be forged.

There was only one passenger left in front of them, an older gentleman who was having his papers checked and cabin assigned.

Ship’s officers in navy-blue uniforms stood to the left and right of the head of the gangway and greeted every passenger with a friendly “welcome aboard.” Ruth could see a whole army of uniforms behind them. She longed to be aboard—not only because they would wait on her hand and foot but also because that would mean she had made it past the two border policemen, who stood in front of the serried ranks of uniformed ship’s staff. They had stern faces and watchful eyes.

“Your papers please!”

With a charming smile, Steven handed the papers to the policeman on the left.

The man glanced at the two passports and then began to leaf through his thick sheaf of papers to find their names on his list.

Ruth was about to breathe a sigh of relief when he handed Steven’s passport back to him, stamped several times over. But when he opened her passport, he seemed to find much more to interest him there. He raised his eyebrows and glanced at her curiously.

Ruth made an effort to gaze straight ahead, her eyes fixed on the wrought-iron decoration of the grand double doors, which had been thrown open wide for the passengers to enter through. How much longer was this man going to spend staring at her documents?

She felt his eyes on her face again. Should she try to stare him down with a haughty look?

Just then, Wanda showed the particular talent children have for knowing when their mother’s attention has drifted. Seizing her chance, she took hold of the feathers that were nodding so intriguingly right in front of her nose. With her little hand, Wanda grabbed Ruth’s hat by the brim, and the next moment it flew from the gangway in a high, curving arc.

“My hat!”

“The hat!” cried Steven and the border policeman.

Wanda beamed at the faces turned toward her.

“Welcome aboard, Baroness von Lausche.”

The man bowed slightly and handed her the passport. His face had cleared, the frown was gone, his lips were no longer pursed, and he even seemed to smile slightly.

“And do take care that the little lady doesn’t throw anything else overboard!”

The passport felt so good in her hand! Ruth gave the man one of her most dazzling smiles.

“I shall be sure to!”



Steven had taken two adjoining first-class cabins, and now a young steward who could hardly have been older than Ruth led them there. He unlocked both cabins and promised to have their luggage for the voyage brought up in the next half hour. Steven handed him a banknote and the man bowed as he took it. Then he hurried away, his footsteps swallowed up by the dark blue carpet with the yellow fleur-de-lis motif.

Wanda was kicking and squirming, and as soon as they were in the cabin, Ruth put her down on the floor.

“Steven!” She put a hand to her mouth. “This cabin is even bigger than our room at the Hotel Savarin! And it’s beautiful. Look at that: the windows really are round!” She ran across to one of the three portholes and ran her fingers across the curved glass. Her eyes fell on the wall next to it.

“They’ve even hung an oil painting. Aren’t they afraid we’ll steal it?” She giggled.

Her eyes gleamed as she gazed around the room, taking it all in. Across from the bed, a small sofa and two dainty armchairs were arranged around a small table—she had read about such suites in the ladies’ magazines Johanna used to bring her—and the whole of the wall behind them was taken up by a built-in wardrobe. Even though Steven had been more than generous when buying her clothes, everything she had with her would fit comfortably into just one section.

“I would never have dreamed of such luxury. I don’t know what to say.” Ruth sat down on the bed, taken aback. The pale beige silk bedcover was so generously draped that it fell in folds to the floor. Wanda was doing her best to climb up onto the sofa, babbling merrily all the while.

Steven sat down next to Ruth and took her hand.

“I’m glad you like it. When I’m traveling with Mr. Woolworth, I seldom get the chance to enjoy first class.” He laughed. “Frank doesn’t set much store by a well-kept room; he’d rather sleep wherever is cheapest.”

If not even Woolworth traveled in such style . . . All of a sudden Ruth felt scared by the splendor. Could Steven even afford this?

She shook herself. “Steven, I don’t want you running up bills just on my account. Maybe there are some less expensive cabins elsewhere on the ship. Shouldn’t we at least ask? As long as the ship doesn’t sink and you’re by my side, I really don’t care where we sleep.” She could see out of the corner of her eye that Wanda had managed to clamber up onto the sofa.