Monique's Wish

By Sandra Novelly

When Monique Witherspoon embarks on a lengthy cruise aboard the luxurious liner Sylph of the Seas she becomes involved in more adventure than she could have imagined.

Soon she becomes friends with an eclectic group of fellow travelers. She meets handsome London Metropolitan Police Specialist Philip Shaw through his matchmaking grandmother, who just happens to be Monique’s favorite author; and through suave and sophisticated Gian-Carlo Luchetti, Monique becomes an unwitting pawn in a scheme to steal a 16th century nautical astrolabe from a famous museum.

During a shore visit to Cannes with Philip’s grandmother and two other women friends, Monique is kidnapped by the murderous mastermind of the scheme who is certain she has learned of his intentions through a mysterious note delivered to her cabin door. Monique devises a plan to stay alive while she endeavors to remain optimistic for rescue before something dreadful happens.

Philip and the Italian Carabinieri arrive, but not before Gian-Carlo is wounded and Monique fears he is dead. Gian-Carlo survives, but as her feelings fluctuate Monique begins to question what she really wants from love—and life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sandra Novelly
• Release date: Apr 30, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476378657

Sandra Novelly

Sandra Novelly, originally from Northern Kentucky, is the mother of three, grandmother of three and now lives in Laughlin, NV with her husband, Larry and two cats, Smokey and JR. Sandra has loved to read since she began doing so at age four by standing over her mother while her mother read the newspaper. Sandra devours every book that grabs her interest and also loves to write. She has written some award winning stories on Writing.com and also belongs to Absolute Write.

Book preview

Chapter 2

After the ship was out of port, Monique enjoyed a solitary stroll along the decks of Sylph. She skirted jovial people gathered in animated, laughing twosomes or small groups, as well as others like herself who ambled along alone.

Plenty of time to make friends, Monique reasoned. I enjoy just being here.

She wondered how Manda, Mr. Meow and Skitters had adjusted to their new Mom. Things would be fine, she was certain, because she’d donated her house, complete with her pets (for now, at any rate), to a longtime family friend from her former hometown in the Midwest. Monique’s heart warmed at the thought of Nora’s escape from harsh northern winters with their ice and snow. The older woman’s arthritis had always been so painful during cold weather but now warmth and sunshine would ease the stiffness and pain in her joints. Monique couldn’t imagine anyone else she trusted more to care for her pets.

A dab of a hankie blocked a tear ready to slip from her eye as she thought of her furry friends and how much she missed them. Monique shook off further reflection of home and continued her exploration of the ship, which eventually brought her to the onboard shops.

***

Monique meandered though each one, unaware she had caught the eye of the tall, dark-skinned Mediterranean.

The man trailed her through the shops but took care not to reveal his presence to his target. Although she had been under his observation from the time the ship left port, he did not wish to make himself known to her yet.

The woman’s sense of style revealed itself as her examination of the shops lead her to items of good quality. He watched her study price tags and a smile lit his face as shock and amazement crossed her face. Hmmm, her actions proved what he already knew; she had not been born into wealth.

Contact with her hand sent a jolt through him as both reached for items at the same time.

Monique nearly missed the apology uttered in a low, melodic, voice with a charming accent.

"Mi Scusi."

A brief smile later he was off to examine a timepiece in a case across the room.

She does not wear a wedding ring. A rush of pleasure filled him. She does not belong to another.

***

Monique’s return smile, brief as well, faded, and she paid scant attention to the encounter. Her attention turned toward the price tag hung from one end of a beautiful, lacy shawl; the substantial number she read nearly caused her to walk away, but, instead she forgot her initial shock as a pleasant reminder rose to mind.

I don’t have to worry so about prices anymore. Years of penny-pinching habits would be difficult to break.

The fabric of the wrap was delicate against her arm; she imagined it gentle around her shoulders. It would be perfect to embellish the gown she intended to wear to the Captain’s Ball.

Shelves and cases held quite an array of items—clothing, jewelry, accessories and more—laid out to their best advantage in order to entice buyers to part with cash or snap down credit cards for those on vacation impulse purchases.

And it was all duty free.

Hmm, this necklace and earring duo will be wonderful with the dress as well. Monique laid the jewelry on her pile and moved to the counter to complete her purchase. As she left the shop, the desire to perform a dance down the corridor from sheer pleasure rose. This most wonderful vacation got better minute by minute.

Nope, no more simple vacations, Monique thought. I’m on a permanent vacation now. Her heart clenched with almost painful joy and anticipation.

***

The stranger saw her leave and followed at a discreet distance. He blended in with the other passengers who moved about the ship as he followed the unsuspecting woman to her door. The number of her stateroom committed to memory, he melted away like mist in the morning sun.

***

Monique opened the door and stepped into a large, well-furnished suite; being followed the furthest thought from her mind.

She laid her purchases on a dresser occupied by a telephone, a tray with an ice bucket and bottled water, and a book crammed with information about the ship and its amenities. Atop a shelf above the dresser rested an assortment of sparkling glassware; beneath a small refrigerator stocked with soda, wine, and liquors; to the right, a large television’s black stare met one’s eye from where it lay in a combination entertainment center/storage unit, which also held a small safe. A comfortable sofa and deep, plush chairs did not yet entice her to sit and relax. As for the small dining area, she didn’t know whether she would use it since so many other dining choices were more appealing. But one never knew what might happen. The large plush bed she had already tried out when first shown to the cabin, as well as, the impeccably appointed bathroom with its Jacuzzi tub and granite countertops. A dressing table sat right outside the bathroom, along with two big closets. A sliding glass door—the high point of the suite for her—led to a private balcony furnished with two snug lounges that beckoned one to curl up and read, or just simply be. One could live in this room and be most happy.

Monique laughed—a childlike sound filled with delight. Once again she experienced an almost painful clench of elation.

I’m so happy I can barely hold it all. Arms held high, she executed a joyful pirouette, then danced across the room and slid open the door to step out onto the balcony.

Beyond the balcony flowed the beautiful cerulean sea, whose water rippled in the light breeze like a marvelous coverlet of silk. The waning sun gilded each lazy wavelet with orange and bronze and gold as it followed a slow downward course. Monique could not help but sigh in awe as she drew a small camera out of her pocket to record the beautiful colors of sea and sun.

The ship had made good progress. She could barely make out the coastline behind her. She drew in a deep breath of invigorating, salt-scented air and went back into the room to dress for dinner.

A dinner I have to neither cook nor clean up after. Perhaps I’ll never have to cook or clean up after dinner again, and if I do, it will be by choice.

The thought filled her with immense satisfaction.

Chapter 3

Those passengers scheduled for late dinner seating please make your way to the dining rooms at this time.

The announcement over the ship’s intercom system led to a flurry of movement through the corridor outside her cabin.

With a last glance at her reflection in the mirror, and a last tuck of a stray curl which had somehow eluded her comb, Monique picked up her handbag. The small purse didn’t hold much more than a compact, a lipstick, a comb and a hanky. She stepped out of the door, paused to reassure herself the key card lay safe inside her bag, then closed the panel securely behind her.

A short distance down the passageway she nearly bumped headlong into a tiny woman who suddenly popped out of a doorway. Monique rose to her toes as she succeeded in coming to a halt in time to avoid a collision.

Oh dear, do excuse me, the woman apologized in a well-modulated voice with a very pleasant British accent. I should learn to look where I am going. A rueful smile lit her face.

Monique scrutinized the tiny woman. Petite, maybe five feet tall at most, gray-haired and comfortably rounded, she wore impeccable clothing and exhibited good taste in hairstyle and makeup. The little lady appeared to be a pleasant, grandmotherly type.

Her face is so familiar. I think I’ve seen her before. Could it be…no, she wouldn’t be on a cruise ship, would she?

No harm done. I should learn to slow down a bit myself. By the way, my name’s Monique Witherspoon. She held out her hand and received a firm handshake in return. I’m going down to dinner in the Sea Nymph dining room. Would you like to join me? That is, of course, if you don’t already have plans. This is my first cruise, so I’m new at this.

Ardelia Grey. And I would love to join you, my dear. My grandson is not due to board until our first stopover so I am not with anyone yet. Actually I rather dreaded the thought of dining alone.

Momentarily dumbstruck, Monique quickly composed herself in time to stop a squeal of astonishment from escaping. An involuntary touch of her fingers to her mouth let her know her jaw still sat in its customary location, although she’d have sworn it lay on the floor at her feet. The woman who stood before her was a British author who had written several excellent mystery books, all of which Monique had read. Monique could scarcely believe she was actually in the company of one of her favorite authors. Life had certainly undergone several remarkable changes in a short period of time.

The duo remained stationary to allow several other folks to pass by before they reentered the flow of people who moved down the corridor.

Monique had a million questions to ask of Ardelia, but thought it best to wait until dinner. She wanted to concentrate on their conversation without any interruptions. So small talk sufficed as they walked along. Upon reaching the restaurant, both women looked around with curiosity.

A line of people, rich with a diversity of dress from casual clothing to formal wear, waited with them. The deck on which the Sea Nymph dining room lay also held a small library, a liquor shop, and an entrance to an elevator rising from the middle of the atrium below to its terminus several decks above. Monique recalled the spacious atrium beneath them held a small bar, as well as, the ship’s shore excursion and guest services desks. She strove to remember which deck held the casino and which one several different nightspots she ached to explore. Perhaps she might persuade Ardelia to accompany her to one of the lounges for a nightcap.

At last, a hostess led Monique and Ardelia to a table by the window. Monique sighed with contentment. This is perfect.

It’s certainly different than my little dining alcove at home, she thought. Her eyes moistened as she thought about her cats and her little dog clamoring for treats every night as she fixed her solitary dinner. Monique missed her pets, but not the usual salad eaten while she read, alone, no human companion with whom to share her day.

I quite agree, my dear. Ardelia’s voice broke her reverie.

The older woman’s eyes sparkled as she gazed at her young companion. The young woman seemed to be having a glorious time, and her delight in her surroundings brought to mind Ardelia’s own feelings on the occasion of her first cruise.

A handsome young waiter—from South Africa according to the nametag he wore—handed each woman a menu. Monique’s mouth watered as she read. The list contained so many delicious items that making a selection proved difficult. While the two read the menu and decided on their choices, their water goblets were filled by a smiling wait staff member, while another took their drink orders.

At last they were ready and Ardelia signaled the waiter.

Yes, madam, what have you decided upon? He held a pen poised to write as he waited for their answers.

Both women decided on appetizers of fresh fruit, and spinach salads with mushrooms, mandarin orange slices and walnuts dressed with a mixture of herbs, wine vinegar, oil and honey.

I shall have the Cornish game hen as my entrée. Ardelia handed the menu to the young man.

And you, madam?

I’m going to have the shrimp dish with crabmeat stuffing and rice.

Both are excellent choices. Fresh vegetables and French rolls with sweet whipped butter complete those entrees. Thank you, madam, he said as Monique handed him her menu.

After the waiter left, the two women relaxed and began to talk.

What brought you to the States, Mrs. Grey, or do you live there now? The younger woman leaned forward, intent on her companion’s answer.

Ardelia smiled. Do call me Ardelia, dear. I was in Miami at a writer’s convention where I gave a lecture on the composition of a good mystery.

Monique asked question after question of the author about characters in her books, plot twists, and settings used, all of which Ardelia graciously answered.

One thing puzzled Monique. Here sat a famous author and nobody seemed to care.

I don’t understand why nobody seems to make any fuss over you, she said. Aren’t you frightened to travel around by yourself?

Heavens no, dear, I’m nobody special. I’m just an old woman from England who’s been fortunate enough through the years to enjoy a modicum of success putting pen to paper. I’m sure there are those on board this vessel who are much more affluent and more interesting than I to command the attention of our fellow passengers.

The appearance of the waiter interrupted their conversation.

Ah, here is our dinner and I must say it looks quite appetizing, the older woman said, as she inspected the contents of her plate with interest. Bon Appétit.

After dinner, Monique and Ardelia decided on a slow stroll down the atrium area of the ship. They walked along and shared stories of their lives. Ardelia had been nine years old at the start of World War II and regaled Monique with stories of blackouts, bombing raids and rationing. Monique found the stories fascinating.

I remember one of your books was set in that time period, she remarked. I still have my grandparents’ ration books. They never talked much about what went on. Pearl Harbor was devastating, of course, and my grandparents did say how shocked they were at the US internment of citizens of Japanese ancestry. But I can’t imagine how awful it must have been to endure the bombing raids and destruction you went through.

Well, what of your life, my dear? Tell me about you. Ardelia smiled at her young companion.

My parents divorced when I was eleven, Monique began. My father remarried soon after, and when my stepmother presented him with five sons, one right after another, I got pushed to the back of the pack. My contact with my father is now limited to occasional Christmas cards. Mother remarried also—twice in fact—but neither marriage lasted long. She died shortly after the last marriage dissolved. In between her two marriages, I got married myself, to a man I believed would stand by me through anything, but when I found out I would never be able to get pregnant the marriage ended. Monique’s eyes glistened and her mouth trembled as she struggled with the old, sad memories. It’s difficult to talk about even now. Then I made the mistake of marrying my best friend, Gerald. They always say marriage ruins friendships and in my case, at least, that old adage is true. We only lasted together three years; now I don’t even know where he is. Thank God I have good friends, and my pets Meow, Skipper and Manda, to keep my spirits up. I date occasionally, but I never seem to have much luck picking the right person. Or perhaps it’s just me. Her eyes widened and she shrugged. Maybe I’m just not destined for true love.

Ardelia kept quiet and listened but took careful note of what the younger woman said. She thought she detected a pattern in Monique’s choice of the same type of person in each relationship.

The two women stopped on occasion when an item of interest captured their attention. Oblivious to surveillance by the same man who had followed Monique through the shops earlier in the day, they enjoyed their scrutiny of this section of the ship.

The duo took the elevator up to the fifth floor, on which the shop and clubs were located. A couple of clubs they peeked into were frenetic, high-energy discos filled with strident music and crowds of writhing bodies. These clubs featured neon decorated walls and seating areas.

Not for me was the assessment of each woman.

Other areas were more tranquil. In one small nightspot, the fingers of a tuxedo-clad gentleman, positioned at a piano, danced over tinkling ivory keys as he produced smooth, easy listening tunes. Several small tables encircled the piano and at the center of each one rested a tiny lamp. Flickering soft light shown on the faces of those seated at these tables as they enjoyed quiet conversation and their favorite beverages.

Now this is better, Monique said. Ardelia nodded in agreement. But neither was ready to sit so they continued their stroll.

A trio performed at yet another club. Couples held one another in tender intimacy as they moved as one on a dance floor each twosome made its very own. The two women listened to a particularly appealing song, and watched the dancers circle the floor.

The closeness of the couples evoked thoughts about the lack of a stable relationship in Monique’s life. Her face became pensive; her shoulders fell. Ardelia noted the younger woman’s sadness and wished her grandson were already aboard. He had not been lucky in love either, having endured a bitter divorce from a self-centered woman who cared nothing about children or really sharing his life. Afterwards it seemed Philip had given up on women and had concentrated on his career. But Ardelia felt his loneliness, much the same as she sensed that of Monique. The older woman’s almost instant approval of the younger woman amused her, but then she had always been a keen judge of character.

At length, they reached the casino. The large room overflowed with individuals who enjoyed a variety of games of chance from Baccarat to Poker, or eagerly pushed coins into the bottomless maws of slot machines of every kind imaginable. Roars of excitement from those who were successful in their endeavors, as well as cries of disappointment from those who were not so fortunate, combined with buzzers and bells of the machines in a cacophony of sound.

Monique checked out the carnival-like scene and turned to her companion. Ardelia, would you like to try your luck?

I do enjoy some of the slots, Ardelia admitted. Let’s give it a go.

The duo purchased a bucket of quarters each from the casino’s cashier and headed off to find some lucky machines. After close observation, the women picked two—side-by-side—and began to feed the coins into waiting apertures. One or the other gave an occasional cry of exhilaration as her machine achieved a winning mix, followed by a clatter of coins into the receptacle below. A couple of hours passed in