think you should? Celine has made a goddamned fortune feeding off the grieving.’
‘People want hope. They need to know—’
‘That there is more than this? That there is an afterlife?’
‘Yes.’
‘That I can understand. But telling a mother her daughter and grandson are still alive after there’s incontrovertible proof otherwise? C’mon.’
‘It’s not foolproof.’ Maddie mentally winced.
‘That’s no defence and you know it. Admit it. It’s all bullshit.’
‘Maybe I do believe she has a gift.’
‘I don’t buy it for a second. You’re too switched on for that. You don’t look like the type of person who’d wilfully deceive anyone.’
‘Nice try.’ The appeal to her ego was a smart move. He wasn’t to know that her ego had gone the same way as her self-respect a long time ago. ‘I think we’re finished here.’
‘Wait. What’s your name?’ He grinned, disarming her once more. ‘Just so I know who I’m bad mouthing.’
‘You first. Just so I know who to sue.’
‘I go under the name Xavier.’
‘You “go under” the name Xavier? What are you, twelve?’
He laughed – a low grumble that she wouldn’t have expected from him. ‘You don’t think it’s cool? Stripper-name cool? It’s my real name, by the way.’
‘Sure it is. Enjoy writing your story. Looks like you might have a real one this time.’
He laughed again, and she found herself smiling back. She wasn’t a moron. She knew that she’d be ripped to shreds in the guy’s next blog, but their exchange had made her feel oddly buoyant. ‘Catch you later,’ he said.
‘Don’t count on it.’
She walked back through the interior buffet seating area. Celine had to be on this level somewhere. Unless . . . Shit . Why hadn’t she thought of it before? She could have left the suite and fallen ill again – perhaps she’d been taken to the medical bay. Ray. It was about time the bastard pulled his weight. Like her, he was ensconced in one of the cheaper cabins in the bowels of the ship. She dredged her memory for his cabin number, then padded down the stairs, past the entrance to the Promenade Dreamz deck, the casino and the art gallery. The neon lights had been disabled, and without them the interior of the ship looked drab; an ageing showgirl scrubbed of her make-up. She jogged down several flights of stairs, trying not to breathe through her nose. The air down here was a foul humid broth, seasoned with a tinge of effluence. She made her way along the corridor that led to the odd-numbered staterooms, and knocked on what she hoped was Ray’s door.
‘Yeah?’ a sleep-muffled voice shouted. It sounded like Ray’s voice.
‘It’s Maddie.’
More than a minute passed before Ray opened it, a towel around his waist. ‘Hey, Maddie,’ he said, preening and trailing his fingers over his bare chest. ‘Hot, isn’t it?’
A giggle came from within the room, and a woman’s voice called: ‘Hurry up, Ray.’
Ray turned his head. ‘Be there in a minute, babe.’
A plump woman in skimpy underwear appeared behind him, wrapped her arms around his torso, rested her chin on his shoulder, and stared unselfconsciously at Maddie through panda eyes. Her skin was a patchwork of red and white criss-crossed tan lines. ‘Hi.’
‘Hi.’
‘This is Maddie, babe,’ Ray smirked. ‘We work together.’
‘Oh yeah?’ The woman yawned and unpeeled her arms. ‘Gotta have a shower.’
Ray winked at Maddie. ‘I’ll join you in a second.’
The woman giggled again and disappeared into the bathroom.
Maddie gave Ray a look. ‘You’ve been busy.’
Ray shrugged, smirk still in place. ‘Decided to have my own party, seeing as you didn’t take me up on my invite. We met at the muster station. Hey, where were you, anyway?’
‘Nice of you to notice.’ And thinking about it, it was nice of Foveros to notice. She didn’t recall any of the staff doing a head count. ‘I was with Celine. Our boss, remember? She . . .
Maggie Brendan
Barbara O'Connor
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G.P. Taylor
Alan Cumyn
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