The Night Ferry Read Free Page B

my fault.”
    “I’m sure you remember,” I say.
    “It doesn’t matter anymore. By the way, I want you to be a godparent.”
    “I’m not even a Christian.”
    “Oh, that doesn’t matter.”
    Cate is avoiding whatever she real y wants to talk about.
    “Tel me what’s wrong.”
    She hesitates. “I’ve gone too far this time, Ali. I’ve risked everything.”
    Taking her arm, I steer her toward a quiet corner. People are starting to dance. The music is too loud. Cate puts her mouth close to my ear. “You have to help me. Promise me you’l help me…”
    “Of course.”
    She holds back a sob, seeming to bite down upon it. “They want to take my baby. They can’t. You have to stop them—” A hand touches her shoulder and she jumps, startled.
    “Hel o, gorgeous pregnant lady, who have we here?”
    Cate backs away a step. “No one. It’s just an old friend.” Something shifts inside her. She wants to escape.
    Felix Beaumont has perfect teeth. My mother has a thing about dental work. It is the first thing she notices about people.
    “I remember you,” he says. “You were behind me.”

    “At school?”
    “No, at the bar.”
    He laughs and adopts an expression of amused curiosity.
    Cate has backed farther away. My eyes find hers. The faintest shake of her head tel s me to let her go. I feel a rush of tenderness toward her. She motions with her empty glass. “I’m just going to get a refil .”
    “Go easy on that stuff, sweetheart. You’re not alone.” He brushes her bump.
    “Last one.”
    Felix watches her leave with a mixture of sadness and longing. Final y, he turns back to me.
    “So is it Miss or Mrs.?”
    “Pardon?”
    “Are you married?”
    I hear myself say “Ms.” which makes me sound like a lesbian. I change it to “Miss” and then blurt, “I’m single,” which appears desperate.
    “That explains it.”
    “What?”
    “Those with children have photographs. Those without have nicer clothes and fewer lines.”
    Is that supposed to be a compliment?
    The skin around his eyes crinkles into a smile. He moves like a bear, rocking from foot to foot.
    “So what do you do, Alisha?”
    I hold out my hand. “My name is Alisha Barba.”
    He looks astonished. “Wel , wel , wel , you really exist. Cate has talked about you a lot but I thought you might be one of those imaginary childhood friends.”
    “She’s talked about me?”
    “Absolutely. What do you do, Alisha?”
    “I sit at home al day in my slippers watching daytime soaps and old movies on Channel 4.”
    He doesn’t understand.
    “I’m on medical leave from the Metropolitan Police.”
    “What happened?”
    “I broke my back. Someone dropped me across a wal .”
    He flinches. My gaze drifts past him.
    “She’s coming back,” he says, reading my mind. “She never leaves me talking to a pretty woman for too long.”
    “You must be thril ed—about the baby.”
    The smooth hol ow beneath his Adam’s apple rol s like a wave as he swal ows. “It’s our miracle baby. We’ve been trying for so long.” Someone has started a conga line on the dance floor, which snakes between the tables. Gopal Dhir grabs at my waist, pivoting my hips from side to side. Someone else pul s Felix into another part of the line and we’re moving apart.
    Gopal yel s into my ear. “Wel , wel , Alisha Barba. Are you stil running?”
    “Only for fun.”
    “I always fancied you but you were far too quick for me.” He yel s to someone over his shoulder. “Hey, Rao! Look who it is—Alisha Barba. Didn’t I always say she was cute?” Rao has no hope of hearing him over the music, but nods vigorously and kicks out his heels.
    I drag myself away.
    “Why are you leaving?”
    “I refuse to do the conga without a person from Trinidad being present.”
    Disappointed, he lets me go and rocks his head from side to side. Someone else tries to grab me but I spring away.
    The crowd around the bar has thinned out. I can’t see Cate. People are sitting on