Read Online Tapas on the Ramblas by Anthony Bidulka - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Anthony Bidulka
Tags: Suspense
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was a casual night so I wore lightweight tan slacks, an open-necked, short-sleeved, fitted white shirt and designer flip-flops. I thought I looked pretty good and hoped Judy Smythwicke would see me and think so too.
Errall had on a sea-spray turquoise wraparound dress and low-heeled white sandals. A little early for dinner, we first made a martini pit stop at the Cowardly Lion lounge on Deck Nine before making our giddy way to Yellow Bricks, the main restaurant on Deck Four.
Yellow Bricks was a massive room dotted with round tables of various sizes, accommodating intimate dining for two up to parties of twelve. The tablecloths were gold lame and decorated with linen napkins of either chocolate brown, burgundy, purple or rust, with colour-matched candles and plate chargers. Three sides of the restaurant were floor to ceiling windows, which tonight showed off a dark sea with an occasional whitecap. As we were led to Richard Gray's table by a gold-suited host, I marvelled at how steady the floor seemed despite the active looking waters. As we approached, three men stood while two women and the Phyllis drag queen remained seated.
"I'm Richard Gray. Welcome," said one of the men. The first thing I noticed about Richard Gray was his hair. It was a startling silver despite his youngish age, probably mid-forties. It was thick and had a burnished appearance. His face was long, with a high forehead, thick jaw and strong chin. His eyes were light as polished chrome behind delicate, silver-framed glasses and he had an easy smile that produced high-definition cheekbones. He was about five-ten with a solid build. His clothing was pure cruise chic: twill cotton pants just this side of cream and a robin's egg blue, short-sleeved shirt with a cream-coloured collar. His glowing tan, offset nicely by his choice of clothing, was impeccable. "I'm so glad you could join us this evening. Please, everyone, take your seats." We did. "Let me introduce the table. Our new additions are Errall and Russell from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, Canada. To Errall's left are Rob and Scott from Wyomissing, Pennsylvania. Russell, to your right is Miss Phyllis Lindstrom from Minneapolis/St.
Paul, and next to me are Cherry and Melissa from San Mateo, California, celebrating their tenth anniversary."
We all applauded enthusiastically for the couple, then began small talk while perusing menus. I made a hurried survey of the room, trying to get my first sighting of the Wiser clan. And indeed, halfway across the room, sitting at two tables pulled side by side, there they were. Charity, I could tell even from this distance, was running the show and dominating the conversation-at both tables. There were fifteen of them in all, only five or six below the age of forty.
"So which of these characters are we.. .er, you.. .supposed to be keeping an eye on?" Errall whispered into my ear, doing her best 99 from Get Smart imitation.
"Actually, none of the Wisers are at this table," I told her, taking a pass on the buns making their way from guest to guest.
"Oh. Won't that make it difficult for you to decide which one is a murderer?"
I hate it when Errall plays at being sardonic.
"I guess Charity thought it best if we ease into things slowly. We'll meet the rest of the family tomorrow night at dinner." I tossed my head in the direction of the Wiser tables. "But they're all over there if you want to get a look."
Errall did an admirable job of surveying the group without drawing the attention of the others around our own table.
"They're a motley crew," she commented after a moment. "I know Charity Dottie and Flora," she said.
"I'm guessing the rather regal looking woman who looks like Charity is her sister, Faith. And that must be her husband next to her. But who are the rest of them?"
Although the timing might not have been the best, I was happy to fill Errall in. It was a good rehash for me, kind of like cramming the night before a test. I eyed the Wiser troop and took a
Errall had on a sea-spray turquoise wraparound dress and low-heeled white sandals. A little early for dinner, we first made a martini pit stop at the Cowardly Lion lounge on Deck Nine before making our giddy way to Yellow Bricks, the main restaurant on Deck Four.
Yellow Bricks was a massive room dotted with round tables of various sizes, accommodating intimate dining for two up to parties of twelve. The tablecloths were gold lame and decorated with linen napkins of either chocolate brown, burgundy, purple or rust, with colour-matched candles and plate chargers. Three sides of the restaurant were floor to ceiling windows, which tonight showed off a dark sea with an occasional whitecap. As we were led to Richard Gray's table by a gold-suited host, I marvelled at how steady the floor seemed despite the active looking waters. As we approached, three men stood while two women and the Phyllis drag queen remained seated.
"I'm Richard Gray. Welcome," said one of the men. The first thing I noticed about Richard Gray was his hair. It was a startling silver despite his youngish age, probably mid-forties. It was thick and had a burnished appearance. His face was long, with a high forehead, thick jaw and strong chin. His eyes were light as polished chrome behind delicate, silver-framed glasses and he had an easy smile that produced high-definition cheekbones. He was about five-ten with a solid build. His clothing was pure cruise chic: twill cotton pants just this side of cream and a robin's egg blue, short-sleeved shirt with a cream-coloured collar. His glowing tan, offset nicely by his choice of clothing, was impeccable. "I'm so glad you could join us this evening. Please, everyone, take your seats." We did. "Let me introduce the table. Our new additions are Errall and Russell from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, Canada. To Errall's left are Rob and Scott from Wyomissing, Pennsylvania. Russell, to your right is Miss Phyllis Lindstrom from Minneapolis/St.
Paul, and next to me are Cherry and Melissa from San Mateo, California, celebrating their tenth anniversary."
We all applauded enthusiastically for the couple, then began small talk while perusing menus. I made a hurried survey of the room, trying to get my first sighting of the Wiser clan. And indeed, halfway across the room, sitting at two tables pulled side by side, there they were. Charity, I could tell even from this distance, was running the show and dominating the conversation-at both tables. There were fifteen of them in all, only five or six below the age of forty.
"So which of these characters are we.. .er, you.. .supposed to be keeping an eye on?" Errall whispered into my ear, doing her best 99 from Get Smart imitation.
"Actually, none of the Wisers are at this table," I told her, taking a pass on the buns making their way from guest to guest.
"Oh. Won't that make it difficult for you to decide which one is a murderer?"
I hate it when Errall plays at being sardonic.
"I guess Charity thought it best if we ease into things slowly. We'll meet the rest of the family tomorrow night at dinner." I tossed my head in the direction of the Wiser tables. "But they're all over there if you want to get a look."
Errall did an admirable job of surveying the group without drawing the attention of the others around our own table.
"They're a motley crew," she commented after a moment. "I know Charity Dottie and Flora," she said.
"I'm guessing the rather regal looking woman who looks like Charity is her sister, Faith. And that must be her husband next to her. But who are the rest of them?"
Although the timing might not have been the best, I was happy to fill Errall in. It was a good rehash for me, kind of like cramming the night before a test. I eyed the Wiser troop and took a
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