Free Ten Word Game by Jonathan Gash

one of these enamel posters, if mint, will buy your family a month’s holiday in the Maldives. Later Handsome Joe scarpered with her entire collection. I went to see her, from sympathy.
    “Don’t worry, Lovejoy,” she said, smiling with fondness. “I had him for three whole months. He really loved me, so I’ve known true love. How many women can say that? Okay, I lost a few trophies. It was worth everything.”
    She even said the same when she got evicted because Handsome Joe had sold her travel agency and her flat using false documents. Spring went to the bankruptcy court smiling and content. End of story.
    See what I mean? Paradise is women and antiques together. Women fix on one, and forget the other. It’s called delusion. The self-deception women like Spring operate, is a sort of trickery they seem able to manage quite well, thank you very much. I don’t understand how, but when it happens they’re unabashed. Spring blithely told the court, “I won’t press charges, Your Worship, because my Joe is really nice deep down.” This, note, about a gorilla who’d stolen her business, antiques, assets, and the house she lived in. Can you credit it? Igave up on Spring after that, but still like her. I couldn’t say what I’d do if she came knocking, because women are the only gateway to heaven, and that’s also not my fault either.
    * * *
    No sign of any familiar face except for Marie, Veronica’s uniformed stewardess, ascending a staircase near the Crystal Pool on Deck Twelve. I watched a musical group perform under strung lights. The night air was warm, people were friendly, the bars hard at it and the cruise taking off in style. I could see why folk loved the life.
    A few got into conversation but I made little response. I kept imagining I saw people I knew, finally concluding it was just me being worried sick. I couldn’t wait to get back to solid land. I don’t know why I was so scared. I’d been desperate to escape – on this very ship, in fact – and here I was, yet still spooked. If anybody wanted me nicked, they could have done the deed days ago.
    Somebody offered me the ship’s newspaper for tomorrow’s entertainment. I read it through. A morning lecture, “Antiquities in Amsterdam”, caught my eye. A talk was listed, “Things to See in Holland”. Passengers were urged to book early for shore excursions . The headline was, Welcome to Amsterdam! I smiled, the first time since I’d left East Anglia. As soon as the ship stopped, I’d be off like a whippet.
    Spirits rising, I left the wassailing swimmers and dancers to their jollity, and went to Suite 1133 to see Lady Veronica.

Chapter Six
    Marie opened the cabin door, the sturdy nurse Inga glowering in the background. Lady Veronica was clearly there on the sofa, in spite of which Marie went through the formalities.
    “An assistant wishes to enter, Lady Veronica.”
    Humbly I waited until her ladyship beckoned to any interloping serf. I felt I should be on my knees. Inga left, emanating hatred and slamming the door.
    “Wotcher, m’lady.”
    “Wotcher, Lovejoy. Did I say it correctly?” She smiled and gestured to an armchair. I crossed the plush carpet and sank into more luxury, looking round. The suite was superb.
    The balcony windows were open. Summer night and music wafted in, the curtains stirring gently. We could have been on a garden terrace. Outside, darkness and starlight, with a gibbous moon drifting along, formed a setting for romance. Maybe this astral influence made me notice Lady Vee’s appearance. Every time I saw her she’d lost a few more years. Tonight she looked even younger. Women can do this dramatically : a lighter touch to the hair, more stylish dress, shoes, cosmetics, and suddenly a new woman meets your eye. This one was two decades younger, slimmer, active, certainly not in need of a wheelchair. She wore a long brocaded dress of midnight blue, and an amethyst necklace in gold. A huge zircon ring was her choice