Luck of the Bodkins (19 page)

The steward was looking his most Victorian.

'You can't go in there, sir,' he said.

Monty stared at the man. He was at a loss. Every time they met, it seemed to him, this vassal sprang something new and cryptic on him.

'What do you mean?'

Albert Peasemarch appeared astonished by the question
’
'Didn't the young lady apprize you, sir?' 'Do what?'

‘
Inform you of what had transpired? Not the young lady next door, I don't mean. Th
e other young lady, Miss Butter
wick. Didn't she tell you that she had changed state-rooms with you and that you are now in B 36?'

Monty leaned weakly against the wall. As on a previous occasion, the steward had become two stewards and was flicker
’
ing at the rims.

'Yes, sir, that's what she's gone and done. Changed staterooms with you. Quite a general post it's been with you this voyage, hasn't it, sir,' said Albert Peasemarch sympathetically.
‘I
expect it's becoming a case of you dunno where you are, as the song says. First your gentleman friend shifts you, and now the lady shifts you. Pretty soon you'll be having to be keeping a daily memo, to remind you which actually is your current shed.'

He chuckled at the quaint conceit, considered it for a moment, then, feeling that it was much too clever to be said only once, repeated it.

'Pretty soon you'll have to be keeping a daily memo, to remind you which actually is your current shed. But don't think, sir,' said Albert Peasemarch, striking a graver note, for he could be serious as well as witty, 'that I approve of all this chopping and changing. I ventured to observe to the young lady that it was all highly irregular and shouldn't ought to be done without the cognizance and permission of the purser, but she just replied: "Damn your eyes, steward," or words to that effect, "you do what you're told and let's have less back-chat about it," so I shifted you, as requested. But I naturally assumed that the young lady would have apprized you.'

'Steward,' said Monty, speaking in a low, croaking voice.

'Sir?'

‘
peasemarch ... Do you happen to know, Peasemarch, if Miss Butterwick has - has gone into the bathroom yet?'

'Oh, yes, sir,' said Albert Peasemarch brightly. 'She went in first thing.
’

‘
And-?
’

'Oh, yes, sir, she saw that undeliable writing. Well, she could hardly have missed it, could she? She seemed highly interested. She stood looking at it for a while, and then she turns to me and says: "Coo, steward! What's all this?" And I replied: "That is writing, miss, done in lipstick." And she said "Oh!"'

Monty clutched at the wall. It seemed the only solid thing in a disintegrating world.

'Oh?'

'Yes, sir, that's what the young lady said - "Oh!" She then dismissed me and closed the door. Some little time later, she pressed the bell for the tabby - the stewardess, sir, and gave her a note to take to your state-room - B 36, in case you've
forgotten, sir - that's on the deck immediately above this one, this being the C deck - and there no doubt you'll find it.'

Monty left him. He had had sufficient of Albert Peasemarch's society for the time being. The steward had the air of a man who was about to point out that all this was just another example of the inscrutable workings of Fate - as no doubt it was. For, as Monty realized, if Gertrude Butterwick had never been born - if, indeed, she had been born without arms or with one leg shorter than the other, she would never have been selected to accompany the All England Ladies' Hockey Team to America: in which case, she would not have been on board the liner
Atlantic
and would not have been in a position to think things over and come to the conclusion that a Monty Bodkin next door to Miss Lotus Blossom was a Monty Bodkin who would be much more happily situated on Deck B.

Nothing could be truer than all this, but Monty did not wish to stand there and listen to Albert Peasemarch expounding it.

With leaden feet he stumbled to State-room B 36. Its air was still faintly scented with his favourite perfume, that affected by Gertrude Butterwick, but he did no sentimental sniffing. His whole attention was absorbed by two objects that lay upon the dressing-table.

One was an envelope with his name on it in the handwriting he knew so well. The other was a brown plush Mickey Mouse with pink coral eyes.

It beamed up at him with a wide-smiling cheerfulness which in the circumstances he found tasteless and intolerable.

Chapter 14

Fully as tasteless and intolerable to Monty's-mind was the way in which, on the morning following these cataclysmic events, all Nature smiled. Nothing could have been fairer or brighter than the weather next day. There was no rain, no fog, not even a fresh north-easterly breeze. Heedless of the fact that it contained a young man for whom life no longer held any meaning, the sun came pouring into State-room B 36, and dancing merrily on the ceiling, as if everything had been for the best in the best of all possible worlds.

At a few minutes after nine there was a shuffling of carpet-slippered feet in the passage and Reggie Tennyson entered.

The sight of his old friend did nothing to alleviate Monty's gloom. His views on congenial society at the moment were exactly opposite to those expressed by Julius Caesar. He did not want men about him that were fat; sleek-headed men and such as sleep o' nights. And while Reggie was not fat, he had plainly enjoyed an excellent night's rest and was in capital spirits. As he walked in he was smiling as broadly as the Mickey Mouse. And that animal's unceasing joviality had been jarring on Monty ever since he had woken up.

His 'What ho', accordingly, lacked spontaneity and heartiness. He was just settling down to breakfast, and had hoped to be alone with his grief and kippers. And if solitude were to be denied him, he would have preferred some such visitor as Ambrose. Yond Ambrose had a lean and hungry look, and that was the sort of thing Monty required this morning. He felt scarcely capable of coping with Reggie.

Still, one has to be civil. He prepared to make conversation.

'You're up early,' he said glumly.

Reggie leaned against the foot of the bed, draping his dressing-gown around him.

‘
You bet I'm up early,' he replied with a sort of Boy Scoutful exuberance which turned the kipper to ashes in Monty's mouth. 'I've better things to do than frowst in bed on a morning like this. What a morning 1 I don't know when I've known such
a
morning. The sun is shining -'

‘I
know, I know,' said Monty peevishly. 'I've seen it.
’

Reggie's effervescence diminished a little. He seemed wounded. He looked for a moment rather like Albert Peasemarch in one of his hurt moods.

'Well, all right,' he said. There's nothing to get stuffy about It's not my fault it's shining, is it? I wasn't consulted. I merely mentioned the fact to explain why I'm up and doing with
a
heart for any fate at a gosh-awful hour like this. I'm going to find Mabel Spence and play shuffleboard with her. Have you met Mabel, Monty?'

'Just to speak to.'

'What a ripper!
’

'I dare say.
’

'What do you mean, you dare say?' said Reggie warmly. I'm telling you. She's the sweetest girl on earth. Gosh, I wish I was Ambrose.'

‘
Why?'

'Because he's going to Hollywood, where she lives, whereas
I
am headed for Montreal - curse the place and may worms attack its maple trees - and shall probably never see her again after the voyage ends. Still, no use,
’
said Reggie bravely, ‘
worrying about that. The thing to do is to gather rosebuds while ye may. And, talking of rosebuds, old boy, do you remember a tie you bought in the Burlington Arcade and came to lunch in at the Drones one day? About a week before the Two Thousand Guineas, it would have been. Throw your mind back. It had a sort of pink roses effect on a dove-grey background, and it is exactly what I need to add the finishing touch to the costume in which I propose to flash upon Mabel this morning. You haven't brought it with you, by any chance? If so, I'll borrow it'

'Look in the left-hand top drawer,' said Monty wearily. He swallowed a moody forkful of kipper. He was ill attuned to talk of ties.

'Got it,' said Reggie, having looked.

He returned to the foot of the bed. The momentary gloom caused by the thought of parting from Mabel Spence had disappeared. He was smiling again, as if at some thought or memory which amused him.

'Tell me, Monty,' he said, 'what on earth are you doing up here? The way you whizz about this ship is enough to make a chap's head swim. I do think, as an old friend, you might have told me you had moved. I plunged into what I thought was your state-room just now and gave the sleeping figure in the bed a hearty wallop -

Monty uttered a broken cry.

'- and it tore off its whiskers and it was Gertrude. An embarrass
ing moment for all concerned.' ‘
You didn't?'

‘
I certainly did. Wha
t's the idea? Why the switch?' ‘
Didn't she tell you?'

'I didnt wait to be told anything. I reddened and withdrew.
’
Monty groaned.

'Gertrude suddenly made up her mind to change state-rooms after dinner last night. She left a note for me here explaining why she had done it. That blighted Blossom girl came into my room yesterday morning soon after you had left, and apparently Gertrude was passing along the corridor and saw her coming out and going into her own cabin. From this she seems to have drawn two conclusions - one, that the Blossom and I were on pretty matey terms, and secondly that we were next door to one another. So she decided to change. She didn't say a word about it to me, so my chances of heading her off were nil. Abetted by Albert Peasemarch, she simply went ahead and did it.'

Reggie had listened to this narrative with the natural concern of a big-hearted young man for a friend in trouble. His nimble mind leaped without hesitation to what was plainly the nub of the tragedy.

'But, gosh! If Gertrude's in that room, she'll see that writing on the wall.'

Monty groaned again.

'She has seen it. Naturally, it was the first thing her eye Jit on when she checked in.'

'Did she touch on that in her note?'

Monty waved a sombre fork at the dressing-table.

'Look. That Mickey Mouse. I gave it her the first day of the voyage. I found it here when I came in last night.
’

'She had sent it back?'

‘
Sent it back.'

'Gadzooks! The one hundred per cent raspberry.
’
‘
Yes.
’

' 'Odsblood,
’
said Reggie, pondering.

There was a pause. Monty finished his kipper.

'She saw Lo
ttie coming out of your state-ro
om, did she?
’

'Yes. So she tells me in her note. But, dash it, she didn't say a word about it all the time I was with her yesterday afternoon and evening. If she had, I could have explained that the woman simply sat and talked about Ambrose and what
a
silly ass he was and how much she loved him and that not
a
word passed between us that could not have been broadcast in the B.B.C.'s Children's Hour. And now, of course, it's too late to do any explaining, because she's seen that writing and thinks I'm
a
sort of secret Mormon elder.'

Reggie nodded understandingly.

'Yes. One can follow her mental processes, of course. First, she finds that tattoo thing on your chest. You square yourself over that, but it leaves her
a
bit shaken. Then - foolishly,
I
admit, though with the best motives - I tell her - By the way, how did you square yourself over that? All that stuff of mine about you being such a lad?'

'I told her you were the biggest liar in London.
’

'Good.'

'That nobody ever believed
a
word you said.
’
'Very sound.'

'And that you were always doing that sort of thing, because you thought it funny. I said you had a distorted mind.'