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Sport 14: Autumn 1995

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Lights. Gay laughter. Fragrances of fruit and flowers. The soaring of the ship’s orchestra.

Yes, they have long been preparing for just such an evening of love. The violinists lift their perfectly rosined bows high above instruments that gleam from repeated, loving attentions, from numerous applications of a special wax that is obtainable only from the best music stores.

They bring their bows down upon slender, gut strings. They launch into ‘The Pride of Erin’.

Amanda taps her foot in time to the music.

Tonight, she has the satisfaction of knowing that she looks her best. Sipping at the contents of the long-stemmed champagne glass brought to her on a tray by a black-and-white clad servitor, she gazes out onto the dance floor where, already, a few romantically precocious couples are entwined in a slow and tender waltz.

It is easy to follow the progress of the man in the white cocktail jacket who is lounging, one hand thrust carelessly into the pocket of his dark trousers, on the edge of the dance floor. Is he moving in her direction? Involuntarily, she finds herself stiffening at his approach …

Oh, dismay!

Amanda gasps. In her throat there is a small, inarticulate noise of disbelief.

For he is not alone. There is a woman in his arms. A woman dressed in a short, black cocktail dress, with a careless amused smile, and wide fearless eyes. Black tulle drifts like a fine, dark mist about the bodice of her dress, now hiding, now revealing her lovely shoulders, her perfect breasts.

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He holds her in his arms. They dance as if with one accord. He leans forward to place a kiss upon her creamy brow, her tender lips. She smiles. Their eyes meet in a glance of perfect understanding.

At the sight of them, a tiny wave of despair breaks over Amanda’s heart, draining her hopes in its icy undertow. The lights of the ballroom seem to flicker and dim.

Amanda’s knuckles whiten on the long stem of her champagne glass. Abruptly, she drains its remaining contents in one searing draught. Then, still clutching the glass, she turns and flees from the ballroom into the cool air of the upper deck.