The White Empress (22 page)

‘David, you’ll have to forgive me, I’m a little nervous.’

‘Don’t worry, Cat, they’re dying to meet you. Mother says I never stop talking about you and Aunt Eileen has given a very
good account of you.’

Her stomach turned over. She’d forgotten about Miss Sabell! ‘Will she be there, too?’

‘Of course, she’s been on holiday with us, remember?’

She lapsed into silence, trying to keep her fingers from fiddling with the clasp on her bag. She’d always found Miss Sabell
to be approachable, even friendly on occasions, but to meet her socially was quite another matter. So preoccupied was she
that she hardly heard a word he said during the whole journey.

At last he swung the car through the gates of a very imposing house on the Serpentine and as he opened the door for her, panic
engulfed her. Her legs felt unsteady and she clutched his arm for support.

‘Are you alright, darling?’

She managed a weak smile. ‘Yes. Fine. I just stumbled.’

His father greeted them at the door and he beamed at her. Marie had been right, he was friendly, the warmth of his welcome
was genuine. She felt a little better. He ushered her into a large, sunny drawing room. She never could remember the exact
details of the furnishings, except that the curtains matched the pastel, flowered chintz-covered suite and the carpet was
of an oriental design. Her gaze fell first on the familiar features of Miss Sabell who was dressed in a fine wool crêpe dress
of eaude-nil,
which made her appear younger. She had only ever seen her in uniform and it was strange to see her sitting back in the
armchair, a cigarette in her hand.

‘So, you are the young lady David has never ceased to talk about?’

Her attention was drawn to Mrs Barratt. She looked nothing like her sister. She was older and of more ample proportions. Her
hair, set in sculptured finger waves, was darker than her sister’s. The light in the hazel eyes more appraising, closely scrutinising,
yet with that deft way some people have of not appearing to seem to be scrutinising. Cat felt every item of her clothing had
been checked and assessed.

‘It’s Cat, short for Catherine, I believe? How quaint!’

Cat shook the hand extended. It felt limp.

‘Do sit down, dear. Tea won’t be long. Eileen, could you ring for Sarah?’

As Cat sat down, clutching her bag tightly on her knee, Miss Sabell extinguished her cigarette and rose to pull the bell sash.
A bell tinkled somewhere in the vicinity of the back of the house.

She relaxed a little as both David and his father tried their best to ease her obvious nervousness. Even Miss Sabell smiled
encouragingly when she spoke about her work. But she felt Mrs Barratt’s gaze on her all the time, yet even when she spoke
to her directly, she seldom held Cat’s gaze for more than a few seconds. It was a mannerism that unnerved Cat more than the
directness of her questions. And there seemed to be an endless succession of those. Had she enjoyed her life in Dublin? How
old had she been when she had left Ireland? Were
her father and sister still living there? Did she enjoy living with relations? What exactly did her uncle, Mr Gorry – was
that his name? – do? Did she enjoy her work? Did she intend to make a career out of it?

Obviously David hadn’t yet mentioned their intended marriage, she thought as she endured this inquisition, although she thought
she understood why. Obviously in the society to which they belonged, it was not the ‘done thing’ to bring home a strange girl
and immediately announce one’s intention of marrying her. Things must be done in a prescribed manner and the first meeting
was the first step along that road.

‘Oh, come now, Marjory, of course she does! It’s an excellent career for a girl, aren’t I the proof of that?’ Miss Sabell
saved her from the last question, but it was followed by another.

‘Yes, but Eileen, you know how I feel about girls having careers! I’m afraid I’m rather old-fashioned. Is it a career, Cat?’

Miss Sabell started to protest but her sister silenced her with a wave of a plump, be-ringed hand. ‘A good career is essential
for a man and we have high hopes for David, don’t we dear?’ Her gaze rested on her husband. ‘Command of his own ship one day!
Nothing less will do!’

Miss Sabell lit another cigarette. ‘Marjory, I’ve told you it takes years and he is still very young!’

‘That’s just the point I’m trying to make!’

Despite her nervousness Cat was no fool. Mrs Barratt was impressing on her the fact that whether she was deemed suitable or
not, she must in no way interfere
with David’s career. She decided she didn’t like Marjory Barratt at all and she sensed that the feeling was mutual. This realisation
gave her courage.

‘I totally agree with you, Mrs Barratt, in that respect, and I can assure you that my views are very much in line with those
of Miss Sabell. In fact, one day, I hope to become a chief stewardess myself!’ It came out very crisply, her tone clipped,
and she wondered if she had gone too far.

‘Then I’ll have to watch you very closely, Cat, if it’s my job you’re after!’

She froze but then relaxed. Miss Sabell was smiling and she had never called her by her Christian name before. She also noted
that neither David or his father had very much to say.

When she finally escaped, two hours later, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. The ordeal was over and she never
wanted to have to repeat the experience.

‘You mustn’t mind Mother, she’s always like that, always has been. Dad says she’s never happy unless she’s organising something
or someone. But they liked you, Cat, I could tell that much.’

‘Do you really think so?’

He patted her hand. ‘Of course!’

‘You didn’t say very much, David,’ she murmured after a while.

‘There were two reasons for that. Firstly, I wanted to let you have the limelight, so to speak.’

‘You mean you wanted to see if I could speak up for myself?’ She was a little surprised at herself. Occasionally this happened.
Her thoughts popped out before she
could stop them and she hadn’t meant it to sound like that at all.

‘Oh, Cat, darling, wherever did you get that idea? I just wanted them to see what a lovely, natural girl you are!’

‘And the second reason?’

He laughed. ‘I should have thought that was pretty obvious! It’s difficult to get a word in edgeways with Mother most of the
time!’

She laughed with him but she couldn’t tell him that she was certain his mother didn’t like her. Or that she had the distinct
feeling she hadn’t come up to expectations. She had never spent a more fraught or exhausting two hours in her life. Well,
she didn’t care! It was David she was going to marry, not his mother! David was the only person who really mattered to her.
But if that was what form the ‘opposition’ took, she knew she could never, ever tell him the truth about her family.

The
Empress
sailed from Southampton for New York the following week and from Pier No. 7 she set out on her world cruise. On her maiden
voyage the then Prince of Wales had sailed on her, and now, as King Edward VIII, with his romance with Mrs Wallace Simpson
being common knowledge, the competition for the very state room he had occupied on that voyage was intense. The
Empress
sailed with a full compliment of crew and passengers.

Cat stood with Marie on deck as they left the Manhattan Pier and moved up the Hudson. Marie was still enthralled with her
new life and surroundings, but
Cat was silent and preoccupied. Ahead of her she could see the
Aquitania
tied up and she thought of Joe, wondering if he was watching the White Empress leave, knowing she was aboard.

Among Cat’s passengers were a very wealthy American couple, Mr and Mrs van Reitenburg, the Earl and Countess of Rossmore and
to her intense trepidation, HRH Princess Mary. This addition required a special briefing from Miss Sabell.

‘Her Royal Highness has travelled with us before. She wishes to be treated as just an ordinary passenger, but that of course
is impossible. It is all our duties, from the captain down to you, to keep the insatiably curious from imposing themselves
on her, as some are quite likely to do. She will take her meals in the first-class dining room with her lady-in-waiting. She
is a very gracious lady and although she does not stand on ceremony, that does not mean there can be any familiarity on our
part, do you understand?’

‘Yes, ma’am. How should I address her? Will I be expected to curtsey?’

‘No, you will not be expected to curtsey on every occasion. I don’t want you bobbing up and down like a cork while in her
presence, only when you first enter the room, and before you leave it. You will address her as “your Royal Highness” and you
will speak only when spoken to. It goes without saying that anything you see or hear goes no further, no matter what inducements
are offered to you. If anyone is persistent, then you must report them to me, that includes everyone!’

‘May I ask why I have been given such an honour?’

‘Because, in my opinion, you deserve it. It is also a test, I shall be watching your every move!’

Cat thought she saw the glimmer of a smile in the chief stewardess’s eyes and she remembered her conversation about careers.
She turned to leave.

‘Oh, before you go, I want a private word with you, Cat.’

She was taken aback. She hadn’t expected Miss Sabell to call her by her christian name outside the precincts of David’s home.
‘Yes, ma’am?’

‘My sister, as you may have gathered, has high hopes for David.’

‘I know that, he told me how his parents didn’t want him to go to sea at all.’

The older woman nodded. ‘Don’t expect too much from him, not yet.’

She stiffened. What was his aunt trying to tell her?

‘He has a lot of hard work ahead of him. There is a great deal of pressure
on him and . . . well, it wouldn’t be fair to increase that pressure, would it?’

‘No, ma’am. I understand.’ She didn’t understand. What did she mean by ‘pressure’? Pressure from his mother? Was she telling
her that David was a little wary of his mother? He wasn’t weak. He was strong and determined, he believed in his ideals. Perhaps
she was trying to tell her in a roundabout way, that his family did not approve of her? Perhaps it was her way of warning
her.

‘I knew you would understand, you’re a sensible girl. Now get on with your duties . . . Miss Cleary.’ She smiled.

Cat was more than a little perturbed as she went back to her cabin.

Marie was speechless, then there was no stemming the flow of words. ‘Oh, imagine! Oh, you’ll have to tell me what she looks
like, what she wears, what she says—’

‘That’s just it, I can’t! She made that absolutely clear! Unobtrusive service and no gossiping! She said she was testing me.’

‘You shouldn’t have told her you wanted to be a chief one day! But, Cat, what an opportunity! What an experience!’

She found the experience far from nerve-racking. HRH Princess Mary, The King’s sister, was a woman of nearly forty. Quietly
spoken and plainly dressed, although it was obvious that the Herbie sports suit was expensive. She was neither haughty, patronising
or over-familiar and after her first introduction, Cat saw little of her. She was only asked to serve afternoon tea once.
The lady-in-waiting attended to most of her needs.

They had the usual time ashore in Havana and Portau-Prince and this time it was Cat who ushered Marie around the sights and
had to restrain her friend who seemed intent on buying everything that took her fancy.

‘We have seventy-one ports in which to buy things and at this rate you’ll be broke before we even reach the Far East!’

‘Are you going ashore with David tonight? Brian Rothwell, the second electrical officer, has asked me out. We can make up
a foursome?’

Cat sighed, gazing along the Champs de Mars. ‘No,
he’s on duty. I wish he wasn’t. Haiti is special for me, it was here that, well . . . it’s just special. Get Brian to take
you up to Petionville, the view is fabulous and the twisting, winding road is flanked with such pretty, quaint houses and
hundreds of flowers!’

Marie stared at her hard, a note of deep tenderness had crept into Cat’s voice. ‘I will, if it’s that beautiful, or maybe
it was viewed through rose-tinted spectacles?’

‘I suppose you could say that. But go, just the same, it’s worth it.’

They sailed through the Panama Canal with only seven and a half inches to spare either side in the locks. The
Empress
was the biggest ship ever to sail through and, looking down from the promenade deck, it seemed to Cat that any minute they
would become stuck. It was to everyone’s relief, not least the captain, that they slid out into the waters of the Pacific
Ocean, heading for Hong Kong, Bali, Singapore, Malaya, Siam, Japan and Ceylon and India. And when Cat first saw Bali, in a
spectacular sunrise, she knew that this was even closer to paradise that Petionville.

Through markets and temples, pagodas, gardens and parks they wandered, both feeling as though they were on a different planet
entirely. They dined in floating restaurants amidst lotus blossoms, sampling delicacies inexpertly with chopsticks, while
laughing at their clumsiness. Sometimes Cat and David went ashore alone to find privacy amidst the palms on beaches of pure
white sand and sea so clear and blue that it was like a tinted mirror. Beneath the whispering palms and in
private little pagodas their love blossomed. She felt for David as she had never felt for any other man and all thoughts of
Joe had been obliterated from her mind.

Marie, too, had found romance with Brian, for they had many things in common and so they placed no restrictions on each other
and there was no division of loyalty, no straining of the bonds of friendship they had built up over the years. They were
each content to be with the man they loved.

When they docked in Colombo they were allowed longer time ashore, having completed half the cruise. The harbour was filled
with craft from the small junks, to freighters and smaller liners. They found it a town of indigenous cultures and a mixture
of influences. There were Portuguese names and words, Dutch buildings, fortresses strung along the coast. English was the
predominant language but the two main religions were Hindu and Buddhist, and everywhere there were magnificent, gilded temples
of both religions.