Free S.O.S. by Joseph Connolly Page A

for maybe a sherry before a three-course slap-up dinner in the Gondola restaurant. (Aggie had scribbled as a PS: Nobby is eager to ‘chew the fat’ – another of those nautical terms, as it happens – but I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it himself).
    *
    â€˜Ahhhhh …!’ was the deeply appreciative and faintly bovine lowing sound that accompanied the spreading of Stewart’s arms wide as Dwight, Charlene, Earl and Suki emerged from the covered gangway and into the softly carpeted Midships reception. ‘My very most
favourite
passengers, the Johnsons. Welcome
back
, I must say. Very, very, very good to see you all again, all you Johnsons. How was London? Weather nice and bright?’
    â€˜Oh
hiiii
, Stoo,’ cooed Charlene. ‘How you been?’
    â€˜
Good
,’ responded Stewart, with emphasis. ‘Doing good, Mrs Johnson – doing great.’
    A little vernacular – a touch of home – went a very long way, Stewart had found in the past: you should see him with the Japanese – bowing away like one of those little plastic ostriches (or could they be emus?) one used to see around really quite a lot, one time, eager for their sip of water. A few bruised temples in the early days, yes, before he quite got the hang of the thing – but no dishonour, he would rush to assure you, was incurred or bestowed: I haven’t yet, he would intimate with a twinkle, been threatened with a Samurai sword! (We’re all friends here.)
    As Charlene kicked things around with Stewart, Earl was bending down to murmur into his father’s ear, Hey – what’s with this jerk? Like it’s maybe what? Ten whole
hours
since he saw us? And Dwight just shrugged and said Beats me: these English guys, I guess it’s what they do, how they maybe really are.
    â€˜Dee-aaad?’ whined Suki. ‘I’m kinda bushed, you know? I split – grabba couple hours, maybe. See you guys – kay?’
    â€˜Sure, honey,’ approved Dwight. ‘Only don’t go forgetting this goddam drill they put us through every singlegoddam time. What’s with the – jeez, that mother of yours: she ever gonna quit with this guy, or what? … yeah – what’s with the alarm and all the drill anyways? Ship goes down, ship goes
down
 – am I right?’
    Earl was smirking his agreement; he touched his father’s shoulder. ‘Catch up with you guys.’
    Dwight was nodding glumly.
    â€˜Yeh sure. Your mother ever quits yapping to Stoo, then maybe I can get some shut-eye too. All we did all day is nothing and I tell you, boy: I’m pooped. Hey –
Charlene
, already – enough, yeah? Leave the guy alone.’
    Charlene allowed herself to be led away, her eyes and fingers still fluttering their farewells to Stewart, who was winking hard and mouthing, while still his arms were spread so wide that anyone passing could easily assume him to be the sole custodian of prior knowledge of the truth that at any moment now something very large indeed was due to be hurled right at him, his role on earth to field it deftly. He turned then to face the next batch of (marked on his clipboard ‘I’ for Important) upper deck cruisers, and seemed close to passing out with the pleasure this gave him.
    â€˜All I
was
,’ explained Charlene, as she and Dwight climbed the broad staircase, ‘was trying for him to tell me what the
toon
was?’
    â€˜Toon? What toon is this now? What’s this with
toons
, Charlene?’
    â€˜Jeez, Dwight – sometimes I think you see nothing and you hear nothing and maybe you don’t even
think
nothing. You didn’t catch the
band
on the quayside? You didn’t hear them?’
    â€˜I heard sump’n. So what?’
    â€˜So
what
? All it was was, like – the Queen’s
guard
band or some goddam thing? With, like – the