LADY FOR SHANGHAI

Wairarapa Times-Age, 3 August 1939, Page 12

LADY FOR SHANGHAI

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT. COPYRIGHT.

By

KAYE FOX

CHAPTER V. (Continued). She was dead beat, but she still had lo see Fay before she went to bed, and that interview would not be too easy. Keeping a sharp look out for the night watchman, she sped down the main companion to the lower deck: that night, the lights were out even in the cabin de luxe, and there seemed to be no one about. But when she was within a few yards of Fay’s door, she heard slow, shuffling footsteps approaching, and saw someone turn the corner from the cross alley-way amidships. At first she thought that it was the night watchman, and that she had escaped discovery by a hair's breadth, but she soon recognised Mrs Carlyle, the elderly passenger from number ten. CHAPTER VI. "Is anything the matter, Mrs Carlyle?" Christine asked anxiously, for the old lady was in her dressing gown, and there must be some reason why she was wandering about, on the deck below her own. “I was just looking for the night watchman —he’s supposed Vo be on duty after eleven, isn’t he? The.fact is, stewardess, that I simply couldn t face hot milk at ten o'clock—the night was then so very warm—but I don't seem able to sleep without it. I thought I might ask the night watchman to heat it up again for me. “But why didn’t you ring your bell, Mrs Carlyle? Though the bell doesn’t actually ring at this time of night, the light flashes up on the bell-indicator. If you’ll go back to your room. I’ll find him for you," Christine offered. It struck her that the night watchman might be cleaning shoes on the little deck outside the smoke-room, for the watchman on the Brent Tor had sometimes cleaned shoes there on hot nights. But it was not the night watchman whom she met on her way to the smokeroom, but Arthur Grant, . who ought to have been in his cabin in the steward’s alley-way, two decks below, at that hour. It was not even his night to be on watch from nine to eleven.

“Hallo. Christine.” he said, with a cheerful grin, ‘this isn’t your way home from the hospital."

’ ‘.‘l'm looking for the night watchman. And what are you doing up here, Arthur, so far from your own home?” “Mind your own business, kid, and you'll hear no lies.”

“Which just means that you’ve been playing poker in the bar,” she guessed, “with the bar door closed, so that the passengers think the bar closed at the usual hour."

“And so it did—to passengers, and as I've been drinking lime squashes, and nothing stronger, it’s been a very harmless form of amusement. I only came away because we've been playing for drinks, and I've been winning steadily, and fourteen lime squashes is as much as I really want, even in this heat.”

“Was the night watchman there, because Mrs Carlyle wants him?” "He was not. The bar’s very exclusive after closing time. Why does Mrs Carlyle want Pussyfoot?" "To heat some milk for her—she’s been ringing for half an hour and got no answer.”

“I expect he's got his eye glued to a key-hole somewhere," Grant suggested. “He’s always sneaking round the ship, trying to earn a little extra by honest means. There's the little blighter himself.” Grant said suddenly. Christine turned and saw Pussyfoot —she never knew his real name —coming quietly out of an empty stateroom half way down the alley-way. His face was Hushed and his hair rumpled, and it was easy enough to guess that he had been having a sleep in the empty room. "Hallo. Pussyfoot —you’re wanted," Grant said.

“I’m not so sure of that," Pussyfoot said slily, glancing from Grant to Christine.

"We don't want you. It's Mrs Carlyle from number ten —she's been ringing for several hours and got no answer. You’d better hop off in a hurry." Pussyfoot gave Grant an angry look, but he hurried off without saying anything. and Christine and Grant followed at a slower pace.

"It’s just as well for Pussyfoot that we were the people who saw him.’’ Grant said. •’Some people would have jumped at the chance of reporting to Perrin that Pussyfoot was asleep on duty.” "This is a lovely ship." Christine sighed. ‘■You’ve said it. Christine." Christine went down the main companion with Grant, but they parted when they reached the deck below, for 'no went along the port, alley-way to the companion which led to the stewards' quarters, while her way to her own cabin was the starboard alleyway. . She paused as soon as she was out of sight of Grant, wondering whether she should go to Fay that night. It was now so late. But the very fact that it was late made it all the safer, and she could explain her delayed return to her own cabin by tolling Mrs Parr and Miss Crane about the fuss over Mrs Carlyle’s milk, if one of them was awake when she went in. There was no light in Fay’s room, but as Christine opened the door. Fay switched on the light over the bed. Christine saw at a glance that she was in a bad mood, for her mouth was set in a sulky line and she stared at Christine without speaking. “I couldn’t get here earlier,” she said. 'I was on duty in the hospital until midnight, and then 1 had to do something for one of my passengers.” "I thought you’d come along tonight." Fay muttered, "though good-.

.icss knows that I don't want to see you. You've done me enough harm already by butting in where you were ,iot wanted."

“Fay.” Christine said gently. "I happened to find out that Roydc and Mrs Smythe were planning that you should be left alone with him in the cabin de luxe last night. Would you expect me not to interfere?" "That's all a fairy-tale," Fay burst out angrily. "Of course Martin wants to be alone with me sometimes. He's —he’s falling in love with me, and how are we going to get to know one another better, if we’re always with other people? I shall lose him if I go all coy and silly at the very idea of being alone with him, as if —as if I expected him to make love to me. You're simply' jealous, Christine, that's what’s the matter with you." "Jealous?”

"You’re jealous that I've got a chance of marrying a wealthy man —and a very attractive one—when you’re only a stewardess, with very little chance of marrying anyone at all, unless it’s a steward. And I’m so fed up with you. that if I do marry Martin—” "Marry Martin?" Christine exclaimed. “You don't honestly think that Martin Royde is thinking of marrying you. Fay?” “Why not? He’s not a snob. He knows that I earn my own living but he’s spending all his time with me, even though there are lots of girls on board who have never done a hand's turn in their lives. And even you must admit, Christine, that if I was a rich man's wife I could look the part —he’d never have any reason to feel ashamed of me.”

She glanced at herself complacently in the mirror which faced the bed, instinctively putting up a hand to pat her fair curls into place. There was no doubt that she was pretty, and she had learnt at the beauty salon to make the very most of apple-blossom skin, big blue eyes and gold-flecked hair — her long, dark lashes were so artistically tinted that no one could be sure that they were due to good management rather than good luck. “I wouldn't look as though I’d ever earned my living,” she said, “if I had furs and jewels, and frocks from Paris and really good shoees —none of Martin's friends could say that he’d married beneath him."

“None of his friends will have the chance,” Christine said bluntly. “I’ve told you before, Fay, that Martin Royde is notorious, and he's no more likely to marry you than to marry Mrs Smythe, or any of the other women with whom he has had flirtations, for the duration of the voyage only. I've head Mrs Smythe and Mrs Collins talking——

“You can't believe anything that lhey say about him. They've been nice enough to me, I must admit, but they’re so cynical, and —of course, Martin is a good deal older than I am. They've forgotten what it’s like to be young, and they don’t realise that a man stays young so much longer—--hey’d laugh at the idea that a man of Martin’s age can fall in love as romantically as a boy.” “I’d laugh at it too, perhaps, if it was said about Martin Royde, and any other girl but you. But as it is—oh, Fay, can’t you see that you’re just foolng yourself, that you're dazzled by Royde, and don't see him as he really s?”

"You’re complete wrong about Marfin —you don't understand,” Fay said ibstinately, “and because you’ve got this rotten, narrow-minded opinion of lim, you’ll ruin my chances with him —if I let you.”

Christine stared at her hopelessly. It :eemed almost incredible that Fay, who appeared so sophisticated in many ways, should be so blind about Martin Royde.

"I’m sorry, Fay," Christine said at last, "but if your chances depend on your being alone with Royde in the cabin de luxe —well, I shall just have '.o ruin them. If you’re in there with aim again ”

"How will you know if I am?" Fay nterrupted, tossing her head defiantly. “How did I know last night? You lon’t realise what a very great deal he staff does know about the things hat the passengers do—why.l was up n the hospital last night, on the boat leek. but. I was told about your being n the cabin de luxe.”

"II some sneaking steward comes md tells you that I’m there again, .vhat are you going to do?" I 11 come and fetch you out again -and if you force me to do it. I’ll tell Royde that I’m your sister. I know bat i promised not to give you away, :incc you’re ashamed of me, but I'm iot going to stand quietly by and ■vateh Royde do what he likes with /OU."

Fay burst into tears, but they were .ears ol sheer rage, and between her :obs she gasped out that she never wanted to see Christine again, and bcjan shouting at her to get out of the ■oom. Christine went, for she was ifraid that a noisy scene would wake ither passengers. She knew Fay’s ■ages of old—if she tried to soothe her. Fay would only get more noisy and violent.

Weary though she was. it was a long ime before Christine fell asleep. It was a bitter sorrow to her to quarrel with Fay. especially now. If they were not reconciled before the end of he voyage. Fays last link with home would be broken, and Christine would be able to take her back no news of her to the mother who loved them both, but who loved her baby best.

Christine was a little late in the morning, and Mrs Parr and Miss Crane were down in the pantry ten minutes ahead of her. They were all in such a rush from then until their breakfast hour tliat Christine saw nothing of either of the others, and it was not im-