S.O.S. by Joseph Connolly Page B

another vat of Scotch. Christ Almighty, he’ll be falling over and it’s not even
dinner
time, yet. God, I’m starving. Anyway, Jilly – I got the message about the Regatta Club: shit-hole, right?’
    Jilly wrinkled her nose, and one of her eyes might even nearly have winked at him before she turned away to attend to the Grouse.
    â€˜It’s not,’ she said airily over her shoulder, ‘all
that
bad. Provided,’ she tacked on with a smile as she crossed the barwith David’s drink, ‘you don’t mind listening to Mambo Number Five about ten times a night.’
    â€˜Oh
Christ
…’
    â€˜
And
,’ went on Jilly – who now was back – ‘Voulez-Vous Coucher Avec Moi Ce Soir?’
    Rollo looked down into the scummy swirl of the last of his Bud.
    â€˜
That
,’ he said slowly – and now he risked a roguish glance – ‘is not such a bad idea …’
    â€˜Ha
ha
,’ said Jilly, flatly. But she didn’t seem
upset
, or anything, don’t think. Was she upset? Oh Christ – so hard to tell. This sort of job, she’s paid to be
nice
, isn’t she? So how do you tell? ‘But they do stay open late, there – which is good. Cocktails are cool. And even if the music’s crap, at least it’s
loud
. What sort of stuff are you into, then, Rollo?’
    â€˜You want a drink, or something?’
    Jilly shook her head. ‘Maybe have one later. I like electronic.’
    And Rollo’s eyes were instantly ablaze. ‘Me too!
I
do! That’s what I – ! Techno, yeh? You ever go to raves?’
    And Jilly’s eyes were dreamy. ‘
Love
going to raves. Love them. Moby’s my man.’
    â€˜Moby! Moby! I think Moby’s just fantastic. Jesus, Jilly!’
    â€˜Trouble is, I don’t go bloody anywhere, now. Been stuck on this ship for months. Seems like
years
. Only get a day – less than a day, just get a poxy few hours in New York and then we’re – ’
    â€˜Oh no – really? You mean you can’t check out the scene?’
    â€˜Can’t check out
anything
, can I? We’re off to Jamaica after that. Won’t see that place either. And even back in England, my bloke – Sammy, yeh? At the bar?’
    â€˜Oh yeh. Sammy. Right.’
    â€˜Right. Well he’s really into
saving
, you know? Everything I spend it’s, like – a sin? Getting to be a real drag.’
    â€˜What – saving like in … what, you getting married, or something?’
    Jilly spread her fingers on the bar, and looked down. And then she really startled Rollo by suddenly looking up again, and then right at him.
    â€˜Yeah – I suppose …
he
thinks we are, anyway.’
    â€˜And you?’
    â€˜Yeah – I
suppose
. Dunno. Not sure. Haven’t really
done
anything yet, you know? And Sammy, he says that’s the whole point: we get married and we do everything together. But I don’t know. On this cruise, right? You see so many couples that just bloody
hate
each other, you know? I mean, they seem to be married to the only person in the world they can’t even stand to
be
with …’
    â€˜Mm. Mum and Dad are a bit like that.’
    Jilly nodded slowly. ‘So … I don’t know. Really. I think you’re wanted, Rollo – they’re calling you, looks like.’
    Rollo chucked his eyes skywards – for Jilly’s sake, mainly – before reluctantly rolling them round to focus on whatever (he just could guess). Yeh – Mum has finally and about bloody time rolled up, and now she’s making all these impatient gestures as if
she’s
been stuck here waiting for
us
. Christ. Not that I’ve minded waiting.
    â€˜Yeh,’ he said, with drawn-out resentment. ‘Gotta go. So look, Jilly – what about I maybe meet up with you in the shit-hole,