A Week in Winter(54)

And the winter-cruise schedule they were offered would be in the Caribbean. How else would they ever see places this far away? What an opportunity! They signed on again.

As they walked through the old plantations in Jamaica, or sat among the exotic flowers in Barbados, they congratulated themselves on the good fortune they had happened upon. Sometimes they talked about going back to ‘real’ medicine and the business of having a family by adoption. But this was not a regular conversation. They were just so lucky to have this time out.

And it wasn’t as if it was all leisure. They did what they were asked to do. They looked after the people on board. Henry saved a boy’s life by spotting a burst appendix and having him airlifted to a hospital. Nicola did a Heimlich manoeuvre and saved an elderly woman from choking. Henry confirmed that a sixteen-year-old girl was pregnant and helped her break the news to her parents. Nicola sat for hour after hour with a depressed woman who had considered coming on this cruise to end her life. The woman wrote to the chairman of the shipping line saying that she had never had such caring attention in her life and that she felt much better now.

So Henry and Nicola were offered a Scandinavian cruise the following spring.

Nicola had a new idea, which she ran past the Cruise Director. Why not get a hairdresser to give the men lessons in how to dry their wives’ hair?

He looked at her in puzzlement.

But she persisted. Women would like the involvement and care of a partner who knew the basics. Men would buy the idea because it would save them money.

‘What about the beauty-salon business?’ the Cruise Director had asked.

‘They have to have one cut and style in your salon first. Believe me, they will love it. It will all even out.’

And she had been right: the blow-drying sessions were among the most popular of the ship’s activities.

They both loved the coastline of Norway from Bergen up to Troms?. They stood side by side watching the sights at the ship’s railings and pointed out the fjords to each other. The light was spectacular. The passengers were the usual mix of experienced cruise folk and first-timers overawed by the amount of entertainment, food and drink on offer.

It was on the third day out that Beata, one of the stewardesses, came to see Henry. An attractive blonde, Polish girl, she said that this was a very awkward matter, very awkward indeed.

Henry told her to take her time and explain the problem. He hoped she was not going to tell him there was something seriously wrong with her but Beata, twisting her hands and looking away, told him a different tale.

It was about Helen Morris, a woman in Cabin 5347. She was there with her mother and father. Beata paused.

Henry shook his head. ‘Well, those are the family state-rooms, aren’t they? What is the problem, exactly?’

‘The parents,’ Beata said. ‘Her father is blind and her mother has dementia.’

‘No, that can’t be possible,’ Henry said. ‘They have to declare any pre-existing conditions before they come on board. They have to sign a document. It’s for the insurance.’

‘She locks the mother in the cabin and takes her father for a walk around the deck to get some fresh air, then she locks him in and takes her mother for a walk. They never go ashore for excursions. They have all their meals in the cabin.’

‘And why are you telling me this? Should you not tell the Captain, or the Cruise Director?’ Henry was puzzled.

‘Because she would be put ashore at the next port. They wouldn’t risk having those people on board.’ Beata shook her head.

‘But what can I do?’ Henry was genuinely at a loss.

‘You know now, that’s all. I just couldn’t keep it a secret. You and your wife are very kind. You’ll find a way out of it.’

‘This woman, Helen Morris, how old is she?’

‘About forty, I think.’

‘And is she a normal person, a balanced person, Beata?’

‘Yes, she is a very good person. I go to their cabin and take the meals in for her. She trusts me. She said this was the only way to give them a holiday. You will know what to do.’

Henry and Nicola talked about it that night. They knew what they should do. They should report that a passenger had lied about the health and incapacity of her relatives. They knew that the hefty insurance payments the company paid would not cover this deception.

But what a call to make!

‘Why don’t you see her, talk to her?’ Nicola suggested.

‘I don’t want to be dragged into colluding with her.’

‘No, you will do what you have to do, but don’t let her be a name; a statistic. Talk to her, Henry. Please.’

He looked them up on the manifest. There was no mention of impairment or disability in either parent. Helen’s address was in west London, where she lived with both of them.

He knocked at the door of Cabin 5347. She was a pale woman with long straight hair and big anxious eyes.

‘Oh, Doctor?’ she said with some alarm.

Henry held a clipboard. ‘Just a routine call. I’m visiting all passengers aged over eighty, just to see that everyone’s in good health.’ He felt his voice must sound brittle and over-bright.

‘They’re fine, thank you, Doctor.’

‘So perhaps I could meet your parents, just to—’

‘My mother is asleep. My father is listening to music,’ Helen said.