Chapter Nine
Jack and Fabrizio walked down a narrow corridor with doors lining both sides like a college dorm. There was total confusion as people argued over luggage in several languages, or wandered in confusion in the labyrinth. They passed emigrants studying the signs over the doors, and looking up the words in phrase books.
They found their berth. It was a modest cubicle, painted enamel white, with four bunks. There were exposed pipes overhead. The other two men were already there: Olaus and Bjorn Gundersen.
Jack threw his kit on one open bunk, while Fabrizio took the other.
Bjorn spoke to his cousin in Swedish.
"Where is Sven?"
*****
In stark contrast to steerage, the so-called "Millionaire Suite" was in the Empire style, and comprised two bedrooms, a bath, water closet, wardrobe room, and a large sitting room. In addition, there was a private, fifty-foot promenade deck outside.
A room service waiter poured champagne into a tulip glass of orange juice and handed the Bucks Fizz to Rose. She was looking through her new paintings. There was a Monet of water lilies, a Degas of dancers, and a few abstract works. They were all unknown paintings...lost works.
Cal was out on the covered deck, which had potted trees and vines on trellises, talking through the doorway to Rose in the sitting room. "Those finger paintings were certainly a waste of money."
Rose looked at a cubist portrait. "The difference between Cal's taste in art and mine is that I have some. They're fascinating. Like being inside a dream or something...there's truth but no logic. What's his name again?" She read off the canvas. "Picasso."
Cal came into the sitting room. "He'll never amount to a thing. Trust me. At least they were cheap."
A porter wheeled Cal's private safe into the room on a hand truck.
"Put that in the wardrobe," Cal instructed him.
In the bedroom, Rose entered with the large Degas of the dancers. She set it on the dresser, near the canopy bed. Trudy was already in there, hanging up some of Rose's clothes.
"It smells so brand new. Like they built it all just for us. I mean...just to think that tonight, when I crawl between the sheets, I'll be the first—"
Cal appeared in the doorway of the bedroom. Looking at Rose, he commented, "And when I crawl between the sheets tonight, I'll still be the first."
Trudy blushed at the innuendo. "Excuse me, Miss."
She edged around Cal and made a quick exit. Cal came up behind Rose and put his hands on her shoulders, an act of possession, not intimacy. "The first and only. Forever."
Rose's expression showed how bleak a prospect this was for her now.