All Aboard! , livre ebook

KIRAN MANRAL

ALL ABOARD!
PENGUIN BOOKS

PENGUIN BOOKS
Contents
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Acknowledgements
Follow Penguin
Copyright
PENGUIN METRO READS
ALL ABOARD!
Kiran Manral was a journalist before she quit to be full-time mommy. She was a blogger-columnist on gender issues for Tehelka , and her blogs were among India s top blogs. Her debut novel, The Reluctant Detective , was published by Westland in 2012, and her second novel, Once upon a Crush , was published by Leadstart in 2014. She is on the planning board of the Kumaon Literary Festival and on the advisory board of Literature Studio, Delhi.
To Kirit-
for being my love at first sight , knight in shining armour and happily ever after . Thank you for being the man I thought existed only in romance novels.
ONE
Rhea stood with her nose pressed to the porthole. The huge cruise liner she was on had pulled out of the port at Civitavecchia, near Rome, cutting through the crystal blue waters with ease. The huge, multistorey liner was to be her home for the next few weeks. As evening fell, the setting sun slanted its rays off the sparkling waters, riding on the horizon. She should have been elated-she was on a Western Mediterranean cruise, something she could have only dreamt about. But all she could feel was panic and the overwhelming sense of depression. Visions of scenes from movies like Titanic , Poseidon and Life of Pi flashed in front of her eyes and she had to do some quick deep breathing in order to calm herself down. Everything is going to be fine!
Boarding the ship that morning had been an experience grander than any film involving cruise liners and star-crossed lovers that Rhea had ever seen. She had remained open-mouthed ever since her first glimpse of the majestic liner docked modestly at the bustling port. As they entered the vessel up the ramp and took the elevator to the atrium, she was awestruck by the grandeur-curved staircases with gleaming wooden banisters, deep carpeted stairs and capsule elevators, tinkling crystal chandeliers and enveloping it all was the incredible buzz of thousands of people who were going to be together on this floating city for two weeks now. Almost fifteen-storeys high and with an army of staff bustling around to ensure that everything functioned the way it needed to, the Aqua Princess cut a swathe as it passed the smaller, more humble boats docked by the port as it headed out into clear sea.
As they entered, they were relieved of their carry-on luggage by the crew, and happily posed for the ship s photographer while drinking flutes of champagne served to them in welcome. Thereon they were directed to a lavish buffet until their luggage was delivered to their cabins.
It was tough not to smile when the music was pumping, people were dancing, and the social hosts roaming the premises to ensure everyone was having a good time during the sail away party. But now that they were back in the cabin and had finished settling their things into the rather compact, yet convenient, wardrobes, it was difficult to keep her mind off Samir. She sighed deeply.
Rhea! the voice cut sharply through the fog of her moroseness.
Yes, Rina Maasi? she replied instinctively, putting on her dutiful niece face and erasing the Woe Is Me expression that had pretty much become her default face ever since the rat, Samir, had bailed out on her days before their wedding. Rhea winced at the memory of him leaving her behind to face the barrage of questions, and to deal with the dirty work of all the cancellations and refunds while he had hotfooted to Bali with someone he now claimed was the true love of his life. Not to mention the non-refundables like the wedding trousseau that sat in her cupboard, mocking her. The gorgeous lehenga she had had custom-made in soft pink and silver . . . she had so looked forward to wearing it. Of course, after putting in all her savings-even if it was meagre-into buying her trousseau and into some of the wedding expenses, she was now also completely, totally, and absolutely broke.
Come on now child, smile. Let me see those pearly teeth of yours, given I have none of my original set to admire. Rhea laughed. When Rina Maasi commanded, you obeyed, even if you were her most preferred niece and could get away with disobeying her.
Rina Maasi was Rhea s mother s youngest sister. The eccentric one amongst all the five sisters, she was Rhea s favourite aunt. The sisters had been known for their great beauty in their youth. From what Rhea had heard, it had led their father to apply for a pistol licence to chase off persistent admirers who had taken to loitering outside their residence.
What do you think I should wear this evening? Rina Maasi asked, drawing all the attention to herself. Rhea looked at her. She was a snappy dresser at the best of times and had outdone herself in honour of this cruise. They did have a dress code on board which aunt and niece had pored through before packing for the trip, so they had a few cocktail dresses, pant suits, skirts and smart blouses. The first evening on board hadn t been decreed formal, but Rina Maasi, she knew, would settle for nothing less than formal wear every evening. Spread on her bed in the tiny cabin without a balcony was a soft chiffon sari in pink, an indigo salwar kameez resplendent with patches of embroidery possibly meant to double as reflectors in case the ship was ever in danger of sinking and a blazing red formal trouser suit which was the least visually offensive of the lot, but which could clash with Rina Maasi s newly acquired copper hair colour.
Surely, Maasi, you have other options which aren t as, err . . . as bright? What about the lovely dhakai s and tussar s you had in your wardrobe I last saw?
Rina Maasi bristled visibly and fixed a beady, glaring eye through her spectacles on Rhea. I m bored of them. I ve decided to experiment with my look. I m no longer a headmistress so I can stop dressing in muted colours and tasteful weaves now. Is there a rule that says once somebody crosses sixty she needs to drape her limbs in sack cloth and ashes?
Rhea was forced to laugh. Rina Maasi was the brightest, cockiest, and chirpiest senior citizen she had ever encountered. And with her newly coloured, flaming red hair and post-box-red lipstick, she was quite a looker as well. She was also the original free spirit, having divorced her husband merely two years into non-blissful matrimony in the days when divorce was a social stigma, offering her scandalized family no reason other than, He bores me.
Pick the red then, Rhea proffered generously. You ll make quite an impact.
Rina Maasi picked the festive garment in question and held it against herself, looking into the mirror. Yes, she said, nodding her head. This could be it. Not too sober for that cute silver-haired gentleman from two cabins down the passageway to think I m an old fuddy-duddy who isn t up to a bit of mischief!
Rhea rolled her eyes. They barely had twenty minutes to dress for dinner. She pulled out a slinky pewter dress that began off one shoulder and ended somewhere above her knees, bringing in the happy knowledge that she had legs which, as the clich went, were never ending. It was a part of her trousseau. Or rather part of what would have been her trousseau had she married and been on her honeymoon right now. Not the kind of dress she normally preferred, being of the category who was more comfortable in denims and round-necked T-shirts, with the occasional jacket thrown on as a concession to formality when required. But she had a trousseau now and by Jove was she going to use it!
How Rhea ended up on this huge liner escorting Rina Maasi on a Western Mediterranean cruise was the stuff Serendipity was made of. It so happened that Rina Maasi had planned to go on a cruise after the wedding with her long time bridge partner, Sheela aunty. However, just days before they were to leave, Sheela aunty came down with a severe bout of dengue and was advised against travel and strain of any sort. When Rina Maasi wailed on and on about how she was going to be alone and how the cancellation charges would be like a double whammy, the family put their heads together and decided that Rhea, who needed a distraction from deep, dark, suicidal thoughts, would join her aunt on this cruise. Some swift string pulling later, a change of passenger details on the tickets and visas were procured by the travel agency head who was an old student of Maasi and had offered this cruise at a tempting discount.
At first Rhea refused point blank. But her family persisted and she gave in. As she looked at herself in the mirror, she was glad that she changed her mind. A freelance content editor who worked on a project-to-project basis, Rhea could hardly afford extravagances like a vacation aboard a luxury cruise liner. Her parents were retired educationists with modest savings, so there wasn t much to be passed on to their two children either, other than their love for the printed word and, of course, their DNA. As a person, Rhea could be persuaded easily and now that an opportunity of an all-expenses paid trip with a doting aunt presented itself, there was really no need for much pushing. They boarded the Air India flight out to Rome from the Indira Gandhi International Airport at Delhi and flew in companionable silence, while Rina Maasi caught up with her nap after downing a pill to help her deal with the inevitable panic attacks she dealt with while up in the air and Rhea contemplated life after being jilted practically at the saat phera s. It didn t help that they hit some turbulence mid route, which had a rather sombre kid sitting up front with his mother ask loudly if they were all going to crash and die.
She sighed again looking at her dress. When she had bought the outfit, Rhea imagined Samir helping her zip it up