again,’ said Basil bitterly. ‘Not for top billing in London and Broadway, I wouldn’t.’
‘A bit harrowing for you, I must say,’ I agreed, ‘not to mention the audience.’
It was about an hour later. I’d taken him straight down to the ship’s hospital, where I was still treating him with large gins.
‘But I can’t understand it! The last time I saw Ophelia she was so terribly sweet and loving.’
‘Possibly it was the shock of running into you like that. Unbalances the psychology sometimes.’
‘You’re absolutely sure you didn’t tip her off, or anything?’ demanded Basil.
I shook my head. ‘Not a word. Hardly know her, really. Just see her about the ship.’
He fell silent for a moment.
‘Quite a coincidence that you should be on board, too, Grim?’
I shifted slightly. ‘Tricks of fate, you know, tricks of fate.’
‘I mean, in London neither you nor I nor Ophelia knew we were all going to be in the same boat, if you follow me.’
‘It’s always pleasant to meet old friends unexpectedly anywhere.’
There was another pause.
‘It all confirms my darkest suspicions,’ said Basil.
‘Suspicions?’
He glared into his glass, looking like Othello coming to the smothering bit.
‘I fear, Grim, there is…well, what’s generally referred to in domestic drama as “someone else”.’
‘Oh, ah?’
‘Dear chappie!’ Basil burst out. ‘Do you know why I really came on this trip?’
‘To be near Ophelia–’
‘But that’s only half of it.’
He felt inside his white jacket, and produced the shipping brochure Ophelia had brought to the consulting room.
‘Look at this. The day Ophelia wrote about her new job, I spotted the thing in a travel agent’s up at Blackport. I expect you’ve read it?’
I nodded.
‘I’m not what you’d call an abnormally jealous type,’ Basil went on.
‘I certainly hope – I’m certain you’re not.’
‘Now I come to think of it, nobody is on the stage. Except about themselves, of course. And it’s not that I don’t trust Ophelia.’
‘No, of course not.’
‘But…well, she’s a highly attractive girl.’
‘Very,’ I agreed.
‘Of a warm and affectionate nature.’
‘I’ll say she – is she, indeed?’
‘Not to mention being highly susceptible to romantic surroundings.’
Odd, I’d never thought of that one.
‘But if she started dancing round the deck in the tropical moonlight with chappies in white dinner jackets – there’s a picture of them here – there’s no knowing what I’d… I mean, if anyone so much as laid a finger on her…’
It suddenly occurred to me what a big chap Basil was. Now I came to think of it, whenever he was behind with the rent in the digs he was always currying favour by hauling up the coals or shifting the landlady’s grand piano.
‘I suppose I should really be thoroughly civilised and understanding about it all,’ he added.
‘Often the best way in the end.’
‘I should simply retire with sadness and dignity.’
‘I think that would be terribly impressive.’
‘But I couldn’t. Not with anyone meddling with my little Ophelia. Instead, I’d break his rotten neck.’
I reached for the gin bottle.
‘Though Lord knows if I’ll ever see her again on board.’ Basil sadly replaced the folder. ‘That tyrant Shuttleworth will have something a damn sight worse up his sleeve than the firemen’s mess. It was a pretty good job up top, too, once I’d discovered the old boy wanted a glass of sea-water for his teeth at night, and so on.’
‘Look here, old lad–’
I couldn’t help feeling sorry for the poor fellow. I also couldn’t help feeling it might be a good thing to build up a little friendliness.
‘You just leave it all to me, Basil,’ I told him. ‘I’ll nip up to the Captain and simply say you were overcome with a sort of nervous breakdown, entirely due to overwork in his service. In a way it’s perfectly true, and I can blind him with a bit of science.
‘A bit harrowing for you, I must say,’ I agreed, ‘not to mention the audience.’
It was about an hour later. I’d taken him straight down to the ship’s hospital, where I was still treating him with large gins.
‘But I can’t understand it! The last time I saw Ophelia she was so terribly sweet and loving.’
‘Possibly it was the shock of running into you like that. Unbalances the psychology sometimes.’
‘You’re absolutely sure you didn’t tip her off, or anything?’ demanded Basil.
I shook my head. ‘Not a word. Hardly know her, really. Just see her about the ship.’
He fell silent for a moment.
‘Quite a coincidence that you should be on board, too, Grim?’
I shifted slightly. ‘Tricks of fate, you know, tricks of fate.’
‘I mean, in London neither you nor I nor Ophelia knew we were all going to be in the same boat, if you follow me.’
‘It’s always pleasant to meet old friends unexpectedly anywhere.’
There was another pause.
‘It all confirms my darkest suspicions,’ said Basil.
‘Suspicions?’
He glared into his glass, looking like Othello coming to the smothering bit.
‘I fear, Grim, there is…well, what’s generally referred to in domestic drama as “someone else”.’
‘Oh, ah?’
‘Dear chappie!’ Basil burst out. ‘Do you know why I really came on this trip?’
‘To be near Ophelia–’
‘But that’s only half of it.’
He felt inside his white jacket, and produced the shipping brochure Ophelia had brought to the consulting room.
‘Look at this. The day Ophelia wrote about her new job, I spotted the thing in a travel agent’s up at Blackport. I expect you’ve read it?’
I nodded.
‘I’m not what you’d call an abnormally jealous type,’ Basil went on.
‘I certainly hope – I’m certain you’re not.’
‘Now I come to think of it, nobody is on the stage. Except about themselves, of course. And it’s not that I don’t trust Ophelia.’
‘No, of course not.’
‘But…well, she’s a highly attractive girl.’
‘Very,’ I agreed.
‘Of a warm and affectionate nature.’
‘I’ll say she – is she, indeed?’
‘Not to mention being highly susceptible to romantic surroundings.’
Odd, I’d never thought of that one.
‘But if she started dancing round the deck in the tropical moonlight with chappies in white dinner jackets – there’s a picture of them here – there’s no knowing what I’d… I mean, if anyone so much as laid a finger on her…’
It suddenly occurred to me what a big chap Basil was. Now I came to think of it, whenever he was behind with the rent in the digs he was always currying favour by hauling up the coals or shifting the landlady’s grand piano.
‘I suppose I should really be thoroughly civilised and understanding about it all,’ he added.
‘Often the best way in the end.’
‘I should simply retire with sadness and dignity.’
‘I think that would be terribly impressive.’
‘But I couldn’t. Not with anyone meddling with my little Ophelia. Instead, I’d break his rotten neck.’
I reached for the gin bottle.
‘Though Lord knows if I’ll ever see her again on board.’ Basil sadly replaced the folder. ‘That tyrant Shuttleworth will have something a damn sight worse up his sleeve than the firemen’s mess. It was a pretty good job up top, too, once I’d discovered the old boy wanted a glass of sea-water for his teeth at night, and so on.’
‘Look here, old lad–’
I couldn’t help feeling sorry for the poor fellow. I also couldn’t help feeling it might be a good thing to build up a little friendliness.
‘You just leave it all to me, Basil,’ I told him. ‘I’ll nip up to the Captain and simply say you were overcome with a sort of nervous breakdown, entirely due to overwork in his service. In a way it’s perfectly true, and I can blind him with a bit of science.
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