Chapter 7

What was Donald thinking?

Robin showed me the rest of the ship. It was a rusty old tub and I still have no idea how it managed to keep floating. Robin, bless his dear little soul, thought that it was the best ship ever. He was happily chatting away about it's long history and all of the things it had inside of it and all of the different rooms. I wondered how Robin could be so nice when his father was such a creep. I was the only one who had sleeping quarters to myself, since I was the only woman on board. I also think that I got the worst ones too. all of the bunks, bar one, were completely rusty/mouldy, there was no type of heating, the floor had ice on it, the walls were so thin that if you pushed your finger through it would leave a hole.

But, I really could not complain with Robins happy face looking up at me.

'It will be a exciting experience staying here.'

That's what I told Robin when at the end of his tour. It most definitely was going to be exciting, but not in the way that I'd ever want it to be. The only thing that stopped me from freaking out was the thought of finding George. I was informed that dinner was to be served at 8:00. I felt very strange about having dinner with a load of men and George not being there with me. I used to go to all sorts of things where I was the only woman, but I'd always had George with me. 

Robin took me back to my room to get settled in and change for dinner. As soon as he'd left I stood in the middle of the room clenching my fists. How could Donald do this to me? These men weren't interested in finding George at all, they just wanted to get the Idol. And who knows what they will do, when they see that there is no hope of ever getting that, stupid thing. But what could I do? This was my only chance of finding George, and if I blew it then, I would never see him again. I had no choice. I had to play dumb and go through with this madness. I pulled myself together, and started to unpack my belongings into a rusty old trunk at the foot of the only good bunk. I had no idea what was appropriate to wear to dinner. So I put a thick wool sweater and thick skirt with a large scarf and gloves and thick boots, then set off for dinner. I had a rough idea of where the mess hall was. I was rounding a corner when I heard some voices. I stopped and listened.

'I don't care what you think, Alan. This Idol is worth...well, it's priceless, so I cannot take any risks, just because of your weird notions. I give the orders, I tell you what to do so you will listen to me. Understand?'

'No Henry, you are not the only one on this rusty tub and I don't have weird notions. I say we blokes should 'ave more of a say on things. I say it's time for a new boss!'

There was a loud struggle ending with a final, sickening bang, of someone being thrown against the wall.

'Listen hear, you stupid idiot, I'm still the boss round here, and if you threaten me again, I will have you removed from this life. Understand?'

There were some painful groans in agreement.

'Good! Now, you'd better get cleaned up for dinner.'

I suddenly realized that Henry was coming around the corner which I was hiding in. I swiftly dived behind some mouldy crates as he came, swaggering past to the mess hall.

I waited until I was sure that he was gone, then crept out of my hiding place.

I looked left and right. As I looked right, hand with a grip like a vice gripped my shoulder and wheeled me around.

'What are ya looking at? Why are ya hidin' behind tha' crate? Tell me missy!'

I struggled, but he truly had a grip of iron. I couldn't tell him that I'd heard everything, I had to make up a good excuse and fast.

'I had dropped my hand-bag, slipping on this horrid ice, and it flew behind that crate. I was looking around because I thought I heard someone running this way and did not want to collide. Have you got a problem with that?'

He let go of me and looked me up and down. I counted under my breath.

'Sorry Missus, I don' like people sneaking up on me.' Luckily he was dumb enough to believe my excuse. He slinked away. I stood there rubbing my aching shoulder and feeling like murdering someone. Why the heck had Donald hired such a awful crew? I was scared for my life. Pondering on thoughts of the murder of Donald I slipped my way to dinner.

Author's Note