Conrad Aiken - The Collected Short Stories of Conrad Aiken

After a while he went away, carrying his sponge in one hand and his pail in the other, walking very slowly, as if there was lots of time. Katy opened her magazine and began reading. Every now and then she turned a page, but she hadn’t turned many when Margaret noticed that she was fast asleep. The twins went by, with their short skirts blowing way up round their skinny little legs, and then came Mr. Carter and Miss Diehl, in their proper clothes again. They brought the peg and began playing quoits. They were having a good time—just as they were going to throw the quoit the ship would give a slant and the quoit would go wild. They would laugh and stagger about. The noise finally waked up Katy. She yawned and stretched, and wanted as usual to know what time it was. The sky was clouding up and the wind seemed colder, so they decided to go and sit in the lounge. Margaret wanted to be doing something, but she didn’t know what there was they could do.

“What are you so restless for?” said Katy.

“I’m not restless; only I get so sick of just sitting round and watching the water go by.”

“Well, it is kind of monotonous, at that,” said Katy.

They took a look down at the steerage deck, but there was nobody there, probably because it was getting chilly. In the steerage you got all the wind.

What she really wanted was to see the nice man again, but she couldn’t exactly go looking for him. She hoped he would be in the lounge, and when she saw that he wasn’t she thought of suggesting to Katy that they go to the smoking room, but she didn’t quite have the nerve to do it. Instead they settled down in a corner and listened to the music and had their tea and watched the people and yawned. Margaret felt unhappy. It wasn’t only because she wanted to see him; it was just as much because she was bored with being on a ship. Every day was like Sunday. After a while you got tired of walking round the decks and sitting here and sitting there and drinking tea or beef-tea and going to the dining saloon for another meal that was just like the last. The stewards were all the time trying to flirt with them, too.

All the same, she didn’t see how it could just end there, after a look like that—it didn’t seem natural at all. But would he do anything about it? Most probably he was too shy. He might even be so shy that he would try to keep out of her way. Or he might think that she was trying to kidnap him or something. She thought of that look again, and felt herself blushing just the way she did at the time. If any look had a meaning, that look did. There was no getting away from that.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” she said, suddenly jumping up.

She walked quickly out of the lounge without knowing at all where she was going—she just felt that she had to be doing something, going somewhere, anything but just sitting still. She felt excited, too, as she pushed open the door that led out to the deck—it had been shut for the night—and launched herself out into the wind. It was just getting dark. The water was black, with patches of moving white, and seemed to be sliding past the ship much faster than it did in the daytime. She walked briskly round the deck, keeping an eye out for other pedestrians, but there was nobody about. She tried the other two decks, but they too were deserted. Then she stood hesitating. After all, she didn’t have the least idea of what to say to him if she met him—or whether she would find any excuse for it, or way of doing it. In fact, she wasn’t sure that that was what she wanted. She just wanted to see him. Perhaps he was in the smoking room. She turned and went down a companionway to the lower deck again, and then round the sun parlor to the smoking room. She went in and stood near the door, as if she just wanted to look round for someone, and surveyed the whole room. Old man Diehl was standing by the bar with Mr. Carter and two other men; he seemed to be a little drunk. They were telling smutty stories. The bar-steward saw her and warned them, and they lowered their voices. Two other men were sitting in armchairs facing the artificial fire; neither of them was the man she was looking for. And there was no one else in the room. She returned to the sun parlor, which looked very forlorn with its deserted wicker chairs under electric lights, facing the darkness and emptiness of the sea, and sat down. Suddenly she felt defeated and miserable. She didn’t want to see Katy or anybody—she didn’t want to go down to dinner. She would excuse herself with a headache and go to bed.…

V.

At lunch the next day she said she was going to speak to him if she died for it. She would ask him to join them in a game of whist. They could get old man Diehl to make the fourth, in case he accepted. Katy was skeptical but resigned.

“Anybody’d think you were in love with him,” she said.

Margaret laughed and blushed.

“Oh, no,” she said. “But I’d like to talk to him just the same. After lunch I’m going to find him if I have to comb the whole ship. He must be somewhere.”

They had seen him only once in the morning—as usual he was walking the deck for his half-hour’s constitutional. He passed them several times, and looked at them with interest but without speaking. Margaret said she thought he wanted to speak but was too bashful. He had that everlasting blue book under his arm, and his fair hair was all on end with the wind. Then he had disappeared again.

After lunch, accordingly, they went straight to the lounge and got a table, and Katy spoke to Mr. Diehl. Mr. Diehl said he would be in the smoking room and they could find him there any time in case they wanted a game. Katy got the cards and sat down at the table, and Margaret started off to make her search; and just at that very minute he came in and sat down at the other side of the room and opened his book. She didn’t know whether he had seen them or not.

She walked right up to him, smiling, and stood in front of him and looked down at him.

“Would you care to join us in a game of whist?” she said.

He closed his book and looked up.

“Oh, it’s you, is it?” he said, smiling.

She gave a laugh.

“Yes, it’s me, large as life and twice as natural!”

He stood up, tucking the book under his arm.

“As a matter of fact,” he said, “I never played whist in my life. Is it anything like bridge?”

“I don’t know, but I guess if you can play bridge you can play whist.”

They stood very close to each other, swaying with the ship, and again they found themselves looking into each other’s eyes as they had done the day before at lunch. Margaret almost regretted that they had planned the whist game for it was now obvious that otherwise she could have him all to herself.

“All right,” he said, again smiling, “if you can stand it I can.”

She led him over to the table and introduced him to Katy. He said his name was Camp. Katy got up and went in pursuit of Mr. Diehl, and they sat down.

“You’d better be my partner,” she said, “and then I can show you as we go along.”

She took the chair opposite his and began shuffling the cards, at the same time looking at him. A feeling of extraordinary happiness came over her—she had never in her life felt so happy, or so much as if her whole happiness was in her eyes. And the queer thing was that she somehow knew that he was in the same state of mind.

“What do you do with yourself all the time?” she asked. “You hardly ever seem to be anywhere round.”

“Most of the time I’ve been in the smoking room playing chess,” he said. “But I’ve also been working a good deal in my stateroom. I’ve got some work that has to be finished before we get to Liverpool. And there’s only two more days.”