Open Writing

'Hi, you guys! You must be the lucky people we are to share this table with,' a loud voice boomed.

We looked up, endeavouring to appear welcoming. This was our first night at sea, and this was our first night at our allocated table. We had been waiting twenty minutes for these, our fellow guests, to join us.

'Bit late eh?' He glanced at the massive gold watch, partly hidden by a thatch of grizzled hair, on his wrist. 'Had to wait for the little woman to make herself look beautiful, eh Bec?' He nudged the little brown wren at his side. 'Well folks, I'm Wayne, and this is Bec.'

He stuck out a large pudgy hand almost weighed down by a chunk of gold. Bec murmured something, and crept into her chair.

He sat down next to me. Immediately the smell of his after shave, the odour of flowers left too long in a vase, assaulted my nostrils. I felt he must have also rubbed it over his severely balding but trendily shaven head.

'Now what are we drinking?' He asked, looking at my glass of white wine. 'Sure you don't want anything stronger?'

I replied, 'No thank you, I'm fine,' or words to that effect but I doubt that he paused long enough to hear as he turned to signal the waiter.

'Gin for you Bec?' He called across the table to where my husband was making a valiant effort at conversation.

Bec looked over at him and beamed adoringly, the wattage of her smile being challenged only by the gleam of gold about her neck. Surprised, I looked at him: his necklace was identical. Well, identical, but larger.

Dinner struggled on. At least we weren't expected to contribute much. Wayne told us and I'm sure the people at the next table, his life history, and his theories on education. He'd sent his kids to the best schools, cost him a packet, and he didn't reckon he'd got his money's worth. Taught them a lot of rubbish but not how to work. He'd been to the school of 'hard knocks' and he'd done all right. We were subjected to his views on politics, religion, and the youth of today before, mercifully, coffee was served. He didn't linger. They were off to the Casino to 'make a fortune ha ha.'

Next evening we thought of room service, but steeled ourselves to go to the dining-room. We were no sooner seated than Wayne, a reluctant-looking couple in tow, bounded up. 'Look guys. I've gotta apologize for this but we've just met up with some mates and we'd really like to sit with them, and these people,' he almost pushed them forward— 'Jack and Sally, said they'd be happy to swap places with me and Bec. O K?'

We hoped the smiles turning up the corners of our mouths and creeping up our cheeks would only be interpreted as a welcome for the discomfited Jack and Sally.

As Wayne turned, waving his hand he called, 'Nice talking to you last night.'

©Colleen McMillan