“Don’t be silly. I’m an old woman now. I have a grown-up daughter.” Mummy laughed, but I could tell she was flattered. “Come on, Georgie. Let’s go and find you some dance partners.”

She slipped her arm through mine and led me away. “And don’t take any notice of anything they say, darling,” she muttered as we went back up the stairs. “Nobody says a thing they mean in Hollywood. It’s all a lovely big fake.”

I turned to watch the gorgeous Juan disappearing with Cy Goldman. There was something about him that reminded me of Darcy, apart from the Mediterranean looks and flashing brown eyes. I realized it must have been he I had spotted on the quayside, hurrying to join the ship at the last minute, and not Darcy at all. I gave a little sigh of disappointment. It seemed I had let my imagination run away with me, or maybe my wishful thinking. Darcy was clearly not on board the Berengaria. He didn’t even know I was on my way to America. I let my mother steer me in the direction of the Palm Court from which lively musical sounds were emanating. Mummy stood at the entrance, observing the couples on the dance floor and the people sitting at tables, drinking cocktails.

“Nobody here worth knowing,” she said, after her usual rapid assessment. “All the men are still in the smoking lounge. I honestly don’t think I’ll bother to wait around tonight. Some dreary woman like that Lady Digby will corner me and tell me stories about her amateur dramatic society production of Gilbert and Sullivan. I’m going to turn in, Georgie. You can stay and see if you find anyone worth dancing with.”

“There don’t seem to be many people my age,” I said, looking around and not even spotting the overly friendly Mr. Halliday.

“Not in first class, no,” Mummy agreed. “Most of the world can’t afford this kind of little jaunt. You could always have a whirlwind affair with the handsome Spaniard.”

“Mummy, I’m not the sort who has whirlwind affairs. You know that.” I had to laugh. “Besides, he didn’t even notice I existed. If he was ogling anyone, it was you.”

“Really?” she asked innocently, then gave me a self-satisfied smile before heading to her cabin.

Chapter 6

ON BOARD THE BERENGARIA

FRIDAY, JULY 13, 1934

I awoke the next morning to a light tap on the door and instead of Queenie a steward came in with a tray of tea and biscuits.

“A brisk day, my lady,” he said. “Would you like breakfast in your stateroom?”

“Thank you. That would be lovely,” I said. “Just a boiled egg and some fruit after that large meal last night.”