Working Girl ~ Life Goes On! 3

Printer-friendly version

The soapy suds were up to my chin and the Jacuzzi jets were doing strange things to my delicate flesh; in short I was in heaven.


Working Girl ~ Life Goes On! 3

By Susan Brown


Angel

Chapter 3

I sunk back in the bath and went ‘aaaah.’

The soapy suds were up to my chin and the Jacuzzi jets were doing strange things to my delicate flesh; in short I was in heaven.

I reached out a damp hand, picked up the fluted glass and took a sip of sparkling champagne.

This was living in the lap of luxury with a sugar Uncle to thank. He was not really a sugar Uncle, just the nearest thing to a close relative I had and his sweet gesture to put Sheila and me here, in the lap of luxury, made me love him all the more. It also made me wonder if he came out of the same womb as my crappy ex step dad (may he rot in jail).

Anyway, I stopped thinking such unpleasant thoughts put my glass down and sort of drifted away…

‘Toni, wake up in there.’

I jumped slightly as I woke up suddenly.

‘Hello?’ I said yawning.

Sheila was talking from behind the closed door.

‘What you doing in there?’

‘Waking up.’

‘Well, get yourself out of the bath, you’ll get all wrinkly. You have ten minutes to dry yourself off and get in here.’

‘Why, what’s up.’

‘We need to have a good look around and see where the action is.’

‘I don’t need action, I’m quite happy in here sipping champers and getting slightly squiffy.’

‘You’ve only had one glass, are you a girl or a mouse?’

‘Eek!’

‘Listen, I didn’t come here to sit around. We need to get out there and stir things up a bit.’

‘Do we have to?’ Even to me, my voice sounded a bit whiny, but to hell with it. I was on holiday and wasn’t after men like the human equivalent to the female praying mantis was.

‘Yes we do. Anyway, I’ve heard that there is an Indian restaurant on the fourth deck that does a mean vindaloo.’

Now I may not have mentioned this, but I love a good curry. Some people like drinks or smoking, others have to snort drugs or read Barbara Cartland books, but me; it’s curry, hot and strong enough to melt lead.

I was out of there like a scalded cat and in a very short few minutes; I was in the bedroom deciding what to wear.

Sheila was already dressed in a micro skirt, fishnet stockings and a blouse that left nothing to the imagination… subtle she aint!

I, on the other hand did not want to flaunt anything so, despite Sheila protests that I might as well dress like a nun, I chose a yellow strappy sundress that went to just above my knees, some sandals and my hair in a high pony tale. I was trying for the ‘Sandy in Grease’ look, before she went tarty that is and I think I got it just right.

As we left our suite, I started humming ‘Hopelessly Devoted to You.’ until Sheila jogged me painfully in the ribs and threatened a lobotomy, whatever that was, if I didn’t stop it and start being cool.

As we entered the main concourse of the massive ship, looking around in amazement at the vibrancy of the place, all lights, chandeliers, mirrors, marble, deep carpets - you get the picture; I marvelled at the number of people aboard; the place was heaving. It was busier than a Harrod’s sale and I was in danger of getting knocked over in the rush as passengers all, ‘oohing and aahing,’ as they looked around the massive ship.

I must admit, I thought the passengers would be on average about 80, but I noticed amongst the blue rinse and false teeth brigade, a surprising number of younger people.

Here was me thinking that if we went on a cruise, it would be nice and quiet and that I would be able to recharge and all that stuff and the only action necessary, being to avoid being run over by Zimmer frame or wheel chair grannies. Instead of that, I was surrounded by people who wanted to partay…and everyone was so bloody cheerful!

In the space of twenty minutes, we entered and left three discos, four wine bars, two pubs, a crá¨che (don’t ask) and no less than seven shops. I had to physically restrain, Sheila in the shops, no mean feat as she has the muscles (but not the fat) of a sumo wrestler. I had even had my bum pinched twice and when I complained to Sheila she said that was nothing she had pinched several boy’s bums herself. I was beginning to worry about Sheila!

Eventually we landed at the Star of India restaurant. The place was relatively empty and was an oasis of quiet in an otherwise noisy ship. An Indian lady in a gorgeous red and gold sari was at the entrance and ushered us in. I couldn’t take my eyes off her dress and lusted after it with a passion that surprised me. Just a few years ago I was a spotty youth who picked his nose and was typically boyish and look at me now?

Soon we were ushered to a table in the corner by a quiet, unassuming Indian waiter, all smiles, bows and subservientism.

Looking at the menu, I chose Madras over my usual vindaloo as I did not want to embarrass myself in the wind department later.

Suddenly, I felt a slight shiver go down my spine and quietly looked around. I still had the strange feeling of being watched. I just hoped that the feeling would go away soon and that I could unwind and forget about my cares and woes.

Sheila finally chose a korma and a mushroom bhaji and the waiter left us with a drinks list whilst taking the order to the kitchen. There was no need to really look at the list, as it is a capital offence to drink anything other than lager with a curry.

‘Well, Toni, what do you think of the ship?’

‘It’s great — so much to do and that’s without visiting ports and doing sightseeing.’

‘Bah, sightseeing is for wimps, we need to find out where the action is and find some men.’

‘But I don’t like men…that way.’

‘What way?’

‘You know.’

‘I know?’

‘Yes; do I have to spell it out?’

‘Yes.’

‘s.e.x.’

‘What have you gone off sex?’

‘I’ve never been on it really and anyway, after Roger (may he rot in jail) I don’t want anything that way, thank you very much.’

‘What about Giles?’

My face went red at the thought of Giles, the man who lived downstairs from us at the hated Davis’s block of flats. He was nice and those muscles were interesting but still, I think I prefer girls…I think?

‘Don’t give me that, you gave him moon eyes every time you squeezed past him on the stairs.I swear you did it on purpose’

‘I did not, it’s not my fault that the stairs are narrow.’

‘OK…you might and I use that term lightly, might not like men, but there are always women.’

‘But what woman would want me looking like this.’

‘I grant that you look a wee bit too angelic in that dress, but some girls like that sort of thing.’

My face went red again.

‘Do we have to speak about this?’

‘Well you need to make up your mind. Imagine it you are in the disco, dancing around your handbag…as you do, and a man and woman comes up to you with the come hither look. Which one will you choose, the hunky man with rippling muscles, straight clean white teeth, strong forehead, hair; golden and kissed with the sun and a smile that would brighten your day, or the girl?’

‘I see you’re back on men again…anyway, why do I need to choose. I have no intention of getting laid as you like to put it?’

‘Why not, you’re pretty, nice, with a sort of wall flowerish personality. Let you’re hair down, go with the flow and do what comes natural.’

‘Is that curry going to your head. I have no intention of getting into anything at the moment. I need to recover from what I’ve been through, not throw myself at the nearest man or woman. Anyway, I have an extra package in my panties which makes it a bit difficult to have anything meaningful happen to me.’

‘Some people wouldn’t mind what you have nestled in your panties but sorry Toni, I don’t want to push you, I just want you to have a good time.’

‘I will, now eat up your curry, the lager’s getting warm.’

We finished our meal in relative silence, enjoying the food and drink and winding down a bit.

All too soon, we finished and found ourselves back in the busy concourse. I was feeling a bit bloated after overdosing on the rice and suggested to Sheila that we go find the pool and sit down by it.

After asking several people and looking at a couple of maps, we found ourselves on an open deck.

The sea breeze was slight and the water was blue with small white crests. It was quite warm and very pleasant. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and I could feel the heat of the sun on my shoulders and through my thin cotton dress.

Ahead of us we could hear some shouting and splashing and, turning a corner, we saw the huge swimming pool, it was sort of kidney in shape and had slides and stuff at one end and at the other, a gently shelving slope that led into the cool blue chlorinated water.

We found a couple of seats with canopies over them and lay down in the coolish shade. We didn’t want to get sunburnt and I made a mental note to buy some sunscreen or something later.

I shut my eyes and relaxed, letting any tension knotting my muscles ease.

I must have fallen asleep as I felt a hand on my shoulder.

‘I’m just going to the loo, see you in a minute.’

‘OK, Sheila,’ I said without opening my eyes.

I sighed and drifted off again…

After a bit, I surfaced again, yawning and rubbing my eyes, I opened them, blinking in the glare of the sun and there on the opposite side of the pool, I saw someone looking straight into my eyes.

It was a man, dark hair; tall I would say, wearing a shirt, tie and sober dark trousers. He wasn’t smiling, as such, but had a sort of sardonic grin on his face. I felt quite uncomfortable at that so I looked away from him and sat up. I had no idea where Sheila was but I felt like I wanted to go back to our suite. I looked back at the man, but he had strangely disappeared!

I sighed with relief. Sheila had told me about that. Some men like looking at pretty girls and I suppose I was quite nice to look at and not many people wince when they look at me anyway. As Sheila says, I scrub up well.

I supposed that Sheila had snared a man or something, so rather than wait, I went back to the suite, stopping off at the shop for some sunscreen gloop first.

I swiped my card into the thingy and the door clicked open. As I walked in, I was almost overcome by the fragrance. The place was full of bouquets of flowers. It had more blooms in there than at the Chelsea Flower Show and I wondered what was going on; perhaps Sheila had an admirer?

I went over to the nearest bunch of red roses. There was a little envelope attached to one of the stems and to my surprise, it had ‘Toni’ written on it.

I opened the envelope and inside was a note.


Hello Toni, it’s great to see you here.

An Admirer.


I looked at several other bouquets, and the same words were written on all the cards.

The hairs on the back of my neck rose like a frightened hedgehog. .I felt that something strange was going on here and I may be out of the doo doo and firmly in the poo again.

To be continued...

Please leave comments as it's nice to hear from you.

up
161 users have voted.
If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos! Click the "Thumbs Up!" button above to leave a Kudos

Comments

Build Up, Build Up, Build Up

joannebarbarella's picture

Bring on the action. I can't stand nothing nasty happening to our Toni. It's just not right,
Joanne

Looks To Me As If Toni Just Might

Have her Uncle or perhaps somebody from the business gunning for her. If so, I hope she has fun.
May Your Light Forever Shine

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Call ship's security

She's being stalked, and they should be able to find out who paid for the flowers.

KJT

"Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose"
Janis Joplin


"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin

Calling securiy is the logical thing to do

But stories don't always run on logic. Hmm, one of the crew? Paid in advance by Mr Nasty?

The usual heady mix of humour and tension. Great stuff, Susan.

Susie