I was going to turn in myself but my own head felt a bit fuzzy from the cocktails so I went out onto the deck and stood at the railing. An almost full moon was shining on the black water, highlighting the whitecaps of the wake. Sounds of the orchestra playing that slow waltz floated out to me. I stood there, staring out to sea, feeling melancholy and with a deep ache of yearning inside me. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye I caught a movement. I thought I saw something come flying out of the side of the ship. Something large, hurtling down toward the water. For a moment I didn’t quite believe what I had seen and thought it might be a trick of the moonlight, but then I heard the splash as it hit the waves far, far below.

Chapter 8

ON THE BERENGARIA

LATE NIGHT, SATURDAY, JULY 14, 1934

I couldn’t believe what I had just seen. I leaned out as far as I dared and peered down into the blackness. The moonlight was playing tricks on the water but surely something was bobbing there in the bow wave—something that looked like a person’s head? Wasn’t that hair floating out? Long, dark hair?

I didn’t know what to do. For a moment I stood there, frozen. I’d feel stupid if I raised the alarm and I was wrong, but then what if there really was a person in the ocean? I remembered the man yanking me back when I had leaned over the railing at the dockside. What if someone as drunk as Algie had leaned too far and fallen? I ran back inside. What was one supposed to shout?

“Man overboard!” I yelled into the stairwell. Then I remembered the long hair. “No—woman overboard. I mean—person overboard. Help. Quickly. Someone fell into the sea.”

There were a few people heading down the grand staircase, leaving the ballroom. They sprang into action. Two men came up onto the deck with me while a third went to find a crew member.

“I was standing just about here,” I said as one of the men opened the teak chest nearby, brought out life belts and started hurling them over the side.

“Not much hope of finding someone again in the darkness like this,” he said. “Are you sure it was a person and not someone just throwing rubbish over the side?”

“Not sure at all,” I said, “but I thought I saw hair floating on the surface.”

“But nobody cried for help? No splashing?”

“No. Nothing.”

An officer now arrived, accompanied by other crew members.

“This was the young lady who saw it happen,” the man who had thrown the life belts said.

“How long ago was this?” the officer asked, peering down into the black water below us.

“Not long. It just happened. A few minutes ago.”