Flawed Red Silk Ch. 08

Chapter 08: Unwashed is Better

I'm a crewman on a cruise liner. That is an easier description to understand than the exact title the company gives me which is in Greek and virtually untranslatable.

I'm on a year out after finishing my degree. In September I will go back to university on a sponsored Master's but I wanted a break after years of school and university. Working on a cruise liner seemed an ideal way to see some of the world and get paid for it. I am the younger son of a younger son. Grandfather has lands and title. My father and I have to work for our living even if we live in a small corner of a stately home.

The job hasn't turned out to be as wonderful as I thought it would. Whenever we are in port I have work to do and can only manage a couple of hours ashore. That doesn't get me much further than outside the port gates for a few drinks before I'm back on duty. Bars near ports seem the same anywhere in the world, smoky, noisy, dirty and depressing.

What makes it worse is that my mind is elsewhere. Just before I started this job I met a fantastic woman, Gemma. We had just started to develop our relationship when I flew out to join the ship at Naples. She drove me to the airport. That was more than I expected because the flight left at five in the morning. She waited until I had to board. I waited nearly too long to ask.

Ask what? I took my courage in both hands and as we were standing in the airport concourse with only a couple of minutes left I said:

"Gemma, I'm going to be away for a couple of months. I'd like something really personal that is yours to focus my thoughts of you."

"What sort of personal do you mean, Dan?"

"Something that has your scent on it. A scarf, a handkerchief, something like that."

She looked at me with the sort of look women have when they see right through you.

"I don't have a scarf with me. I have one handkerchief and that is clean. It won't smell of anything. I think you want something of mine that you can jack off holding, don't you?"

I blushed. Sometimes I think I still behave like a teenager.

"I would like to dream about you, Gemma." I replied nervously.

"Dreaming? Is that what you call it? Dan, sometimes you are impossible. Why didn't you ask me last night? I could have brought something that would help you dream. Now I have to improvise."

She caught hold of my arm, kicked her shoes off, and before I knew what she intended to do, she reached under her skirt, pulled her panties down and off and shoved them into my trouser pocket.

She had done that for me in the middle of the concourse, surrounded by dozens of people and watched by security cameras. I blushed even brighter. She put her feet back in her shoes, kissed me on the cheek and whispered in my ear.

"Those might help you dream of me, Dan. The scent won't last long because I put them on clean this morning. If you are good and write as you say you will I might, only might, send you more to help you dream."

Then my departure was called. We had a last lingering kiss and I had to leave her. I pushed her panties as far down in the pocket as they would go. I didn't want to risk losing them. They were precious to me.

Once on board I found to my amazement that I had a cabin to myself because of my duties. As an English speaker I had to be on call during the night to deal with emergencies with the passenger cabins. If I had been sharing a cabin the others would have been disturbed every time I was called out by a buzzer above my bunk.

The cabin was tiny. Once the bunk was folded down I had enough room to climb on to it but no more. The advantage was that I could "dream" of Gemma. Her panties across my nose gave me her scent and my imagination did the rest. Many nights I spent with my nose in Gemma's pussy – in dreams of course.

However her scent faded by the end of the first week and my imagination had to work harder without the perfume. Her panties were a tangible reminder of her. I could see her casually slipping out of them in that airport concourse. I loved Gemma for that.

I wrote to her every night and posted the letters every time we were in port. The postage was expensive because I wrote so much. I told her how much I was dreaming about her and I was much more explicit than I want to be in this account.

At the end of the second month we had a free day in Marseilles. I went shopping to buy a present for Gemma. Eventually I found a silver bracelet and arranged for the shop to send it to her.

When I returned to the ship the mail had come. Gemma had sent me a small package that I had to sign for and have scanned by the ship's security X-ray machine. The X-ray showed nothing suspicious so I was allowed to take it to my cabin.

I was impatient to open it. I had just changed from my civvies to my working uniform when the buzzer went and I was off to sort out a blocked washbasin.

The package was still there. I opened it very carefully and inside, in a sealed plastic bag, was another pair of Gemma's panties, which looked identical to the ones I already had. On the plastic was a sticker:

"Do not open until you have read the letter. Gemma."

I reached for the letter and opened the single sheet. It wasn't a letter, not like the ones I had been writing to her, nor like the two I had received from her. It was a short note.

"Darling Dan,

You have been dreaming of me. You tell me so in your letters. I have been "dreaming" of you and your body. I know that the scent has worn off the panties I gave you at the airport so I have "scented" another pair.

The scent is not from a bottle. I wore these panties when I was dreaming about you. I used them and my fingers to try to imagine you inside me. The best I could do was push the panties inside with my fingers. My imagination made the dream "you" cause me to have several orgasms. These panties were soaked with me and I sealed them in the plastic bag as soon as I could.

If you keep the plastic bag sealed when you are not "dreaming", the scent of your Gemma will last longer. Tell me if it works.

I love you.

Gemma."

I daren't open the plastic bag without thinking that Gemma had really declared herself. Who else would have gone so far for a man she won't see for another two months? The silver bracelet, expensive as it was, seemed an inadequate present for so much love.

I was just about to open a corner of the plastic and take a sniff when that bloody buzzer went again. This time it was important. I was summoned to "The Owner's Suite" that is the most expensive accommodation on the ship. The crew had been told to be very careful with the occupiers, Mr. and Mrs. Rubens, who were very important VIPs. We were to leave contact with them to the ship's officers whenever possible and to be on our best behaviour whenever near that suite.

It was a simple but long-winded job. A steward had split some red wine on the carpet. I removed the wine and then the stain. While I was working Mrs. Rubens, the lady occupying the suite, talked to me. Why not? She asked how I liked working on the ship. I answered as I would to anyone else.

"When I first joined I was lonely because most of the crew are Greek and like a close-knit family or a group of friends who have known each other for some time. Although I speak Greek, my Greek is too precise, literate and pedantic. Some of the crew thought I was a company spy."

"Were you?"

I laughed.

"No. I was just an English intruder in a mainly Greek community. After the first few ports they became really suspicious of me. As well as Greek I can speak fluent French, German and Italian. I thought I might be ostracised until I was able to help a fellow crewman who got into trouble in Naples. He had just heard that his wife had given birth to twin boys and celebrated too well. I happened to be passing when the police arrested him. His friends had left him and run for it when they saw the police. They thought he was following but he was too drunk."

"What did you do?"

"I explained to the Italian Police why he was celebrating. They congratulated him and told me to get him back on the ship. I had to support him most of the way until we met his friends coming back to find him. They had seen him being arrested and now he was free again. They asked me how it had happened. I told them. I also told them off for leaving their friend. They were ashamed of their actions but pleased with me. From then on I had friends on board and life became much better."

"What do you think of the crew?"

I hesitated. She was asking an awkward question and I remembered the warning advice we had been given. Eventually, because she seemed a pleasant enough lady, I decided to answer honestly.

"As far as I can tell as an unskilled foreigner they seem very experienced and competent. Until a week ago they worked together very happily. During the last week they have been unsettled for some reason that I can't understand. They seem worried. Apart from that I like them and they way they work. If a job needs doing, the nearest person will do it willingly."

"What about the officers?"

"I'm sorry, I can't talk about the officers. It would be unethical for a junior crewman to comment on them. I rarely see the officers."

She persisted which I thought rather rude.

"Do the crew like their officers? I'm not asking you about the officers' competence, just what the crew think of them."

I had nearly finished my work. I didn't think of the implications of any answer I might give.

"All workers grumble about their bosses. All I can say is that the crew trust their officers. They don't seem to hide things from them or do things in a different way when the officers aren't looking."

"Thank you for cleaning the carpet. Thank you also for chatting to me."

She pressed a banknote into my hand as I left. I crumpled into my pocket with a muttered "Thank you." I hadn't expected to be tipped for doing the job I was paid to do.

Back in my tiny cabin I prepared to open Gemma's plastic bag. As I sat in the bunk I heard the banknote rustle in my pocket. I pulled it out and stared at it. It was a hundred-dollar bill. Cleaning the carpet wasn't worth that. What had I said? Had I said something I shouldn't? That worried me so much that I left my cabin and went to the Purser's Office. He was just coming out.

"Can I have a word, Sir?" I asked.

"Yes? What is it?"

I told him about the tip and the exact words of my conversation as far as I could remember them.

"I hope I didn't do anything wrong, Sir," I said. "I only told the truth."

"Thank you for telling me. You can keep your tip. I appreciate that you told me this."

He left; heading for the bridge which was an unusual place for the Purser to go.

Five minutes later I too was on the bridge repeating the conversation, translated into Greek, to the Captain himself. He seemed pleased with me when I had finished.

I went back to my cabin. Now I didn't feel like smelling Gemma's scent. Was I in trouble? What had I done? I went to sleep with my brain still churning the conversation around.

The next morning I woke early and sniffed Gemma's panties. Her scent was strong and eminently female. I only cracked the plastic bag open before sealing it again. In my "dream" my nose was against her pussy and sinking deep into it. That was a great start to the day.

That afternoon we docked at Piraeus. We hadn't been scheduled to stop there. I had some free time to go to see Athens. I left the ship dressed in my civvies. Just outside the docks I heard a female voice talking loudly in English and being answered in slightly irritated Greek. I recognised the voice of Mrs. Rubens. I listened as I walked towards the taxi rank.

I soon understood that this was a classic case of misunderstanding between people who only speak their own language. I owed Mrs. Rubens something for that hundred-dollar bill so I decided to mediate.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Rubens. Can I help? What seems to be the problem?"

"I want to take a taxi to Athens. This is the only one here but he won't take me. I can't understand what he is saying."

I turned to the taxi driver. We spoke in Greek for a few seconds.

"What he is saying, Mrs. Rubens, is that he is here to collect someone by appointment. He can't take you because he is already engaged. However he has summoned another taxi for you with his radio. That taxi should arrive in a couple of minutes."

"He has ordered a taxi for me? And I have been shouting at the poor man. Will you tell him I'm sorry for being so rude and thank him for ordering the taxi, please?"

I translated this to the taxi driver. He shrugged his shoulders and smiled. His smile grew much wider when Mrs. Rubens pressed a banknote into his hand.

"Thank you, Dan, isn't it? Are you going to Athens too? Would you like to share my taxi? There don't seem to be any others about."

I agreed. It made sense and I would get to Athens quickly.

When the other taxi arrived, Mrs. Rubens asked me to tell the driver to take her to a specific hotel. I relayed this. He nodded and set off.

"What are you going to do in Athens, Dan?" she asked.

"I want to find a present for my girlfriend," I replied. "It should be a special present but I'm not sure what to get. I will look around the shops for inspiration."

"You will have to wait for some time. The shops are shut until tomorrow. It is some sort of holiday here."

"Do you mind if I ask the taxi driver what is open, if anything?"

"Of course not, Dan, go ahead."

The taxi driver confirmed my suspicions. Everything was shut, shops, businesses, tourist sites – the lot. That was why there had been no taxis at Piraeus. Our ship hadn't been expected today.

I told Mrs. Rubens.

"Oh dear, Dan. What are you going to do?"

"I could walk around looking at buildings, I suppose, then go back to the ship."

"Why not join me for tea at my hotel. I would be pleased to have someone to talk to. My husband is busy until about four. Then you could share our taxi back to the ship."

I was reluctant but she persuaded me. The gathering rain-clouds were another inducement. I think the real reason was because I and the crew had been told not to talk to Mr. and Mrs. Rubens. I didn't like being told who I could and could not talk to.

At the hotel she was obviously expected and a great fuss was made of her. We had a private room for the "tea" which came with the best cakes the chef could provide. Who were the Rubens? I had vaguely heard the name before. I soon found out.

I asked why she had come into Athens. She told me that her husband was meeting a government minister and after the meeting they, husband and wife, would decide what to do about a business deal. They were the majority shareholders of their company. Whatever they agreed the company would do.

Curious, I asked why today, on a public holiday when everything was shut? The reply staggered me. She told me that the minister didn't want the possible deal made public so he had asked them yesterday to come to Athens. They told the ship's captain who diverted the ship to Athens.

Who were these people who could make a ship carrying a thousand paying passengers divert for their business? Then I connected where I had heard the name before. They were a branch of an old established banking family. I had met their son at a society ball a couple of years ago.

I asked a couple more questions which established that they knew my grandfather. That gave me away. Mrs. Rubens put two and two together and worked out who I was. No, not Dan the crewman, but Daniel the younger son. We had acquaintances in common but in different generations. Once she had established that I was a friend of a friend so to speak she explained more about their proposed business deal, in confidence.

They were negotiating to buy the cruise liner. It was the only one the shipping company had. All the rest were freighters or tankers and the company had lost money during troubles in the Middle East. They needed some working capital so might sell the cruise liner at a price.

The ship had been built with loan guarantees from the Greek government. If it became foreign owned the Greek company might have to pay back those loans immediately. If that happened they wouldn't get the capital they needed even though they had sold the ship. Mr. Rubens had gone to talk to the minister to see if there was some way out of the dilemma. Perhaps he could guarantee the loans so that the Greek company wouldn't have to repay them? Or could some "Greek" company be created to "own" the ship to satisfy national pride.

Now I knew why the Greek crew were so unsettled and why they wanted Mr. and Mrs. Rubens treated so carefully. They might buy the ship. If they did the crew might be replaced by another crew, not necessarily Greek. If they didn't buy the ship it might have to be laid up until a buyer was found. No wonder the Captain and officers were worried.

Mr. Rubens arrived an hour earlier than his wife expected. He was surprised to find me there but became affable when I was introduced as my grandfather's grandson. Apparently he and my grandfather were golfing buddies. He was even more delighted when his wife explained that I was a crewman on the ship, you know, the one I spoke to you about.

"So it was you my wife was pumping for information, was it? You were very diplomatic in your answers, weren't you?"

"Well, Sir," I replied thinking that I should be polite to him as he might be my employer soon and even if he didn't, he might discuss me with my grandfather, "I couldn't say anything derogatory about the people who employ me, could I?"

"No, I suppose not," he said. "But what you did say, diplomatic as it was, was it true?"

"Yes Sir,"

"So the crew are good workers in a happy ship and respect their officers?"

"Yes Sir, but they are all worried sick."

"I'll bet they are. Do you know that their company might not be able to pay the crew at the end of the month?"

"Is it that bad?"

"Yes, and the officers know it."

I couldn't reply to that.

"Daniel, what do you think I should do?"

"I have no idea, Sir. I don't know whether buying the ship would be good or bad – for you that is."

"Let me put it to you another way, Daniel. Assume that I think I can make a profit from the ship, more than sufficient to cover the interest on the money I use. In that case would it be better for me to take the ship AND crew, or the bare ship and find another crew who would cost say ten per cent less?"

"Ouch! Ten per cent of the crew's wages is a lot of money. Even so I think you would do better to stick with the existing officers and crew. They work well together; they know the ship inside out; they are willing and hard working. Would you get all that for your ten per cent saving? Would that ten per cent be lost by an inefficient crew who had to learn the ship?"

"OK, Daniel. That is a good point. Now let's turn to you, personally."

"Me? I'm just a graduate on a year out working my passage."

"You are a graduate of business management sponsored to do a Masters who just happens to speak fluent Greek, French, German and Italian and is related to a very good friend of mine. That good friend told me some time ago that he thought you have the best brains of the younger generation. From him, and you know how hard he can be in his judgements..."

I did, only too well. My elder brother had been summoned and told to pull himself together after having to re-sit one part of his degree. He worked like mad to avoid another such talk from grandfather.

"...then that means he thinks you will go far. How about working for me for the rest of your year out. You'll still be on the ship..."

He looked at his wife, who nodded. That nod meant they had just agreed to buy the ship with the current crew. It was such a casual gesture for a major decision that would affect so many people.