Chapter 1

 Mrs. Elizabeth Swan surveyed the mass of people below her from high up on the First Class deck of the Queen Mary. Arms waved and handkerchiefs wiped tears from eyes as the great ship slowly eased herself away from the quay.

 A young man who was dowdy and English in appearance caught her eye, he was scanning the grey faces of those ashore as if desperate to find someone, but as the faces became lost in the relentless Southampton drizzle, he buried his head in his hands and shrunk away down into the bowels of the ship where the third class cabins were to be found.

 “Mmmm…” Mrs.Swan smiled to herself. “Someone broken your heart have they honey? Well, we’ll have to see what we can do about that now won’t we?”

 She turned and strolled through the crystal glass doors of the First Class smoking room, a dozen or so eyes turning to watch her as she glided over to a chair and sat down. The same eyes then lingered furtively upon her as she took a Viceroy cigarette from a gold case, then sat back and crossed her legs. She was indeed a thing of beauty to gaze at, she was Lauren Bacall, Susan Haywood, Jane Greer, whoever you like, all rolled into one breathtaking vision. She lifted her face veil and placed the cigarette between her lips. A waiter was instantaneously there at her shoulder with a lighter. “Thank you” she purred, arching back her long sensuous neck and directing a thin blue cloud of smoke towards the ceiling.

 Lady Helena Riley was sitting alone a few yards away tightly gripping her Martini. Her face was a study in resentment. She did not want to be here. She resented this damn ship and everyone on board. Most of all she resented her father, who to save their family further embarrassment after a series of ‘unnatural friendships’, was sending her to Lynchburg Virginia to stay with a second aunt, “until things quietened down” was the reason given.  She was expecting to be accompanied by her maid, But as if to add insult to injury, her father had telegrammed that very morning with the news that her maid would not be accompanying her after all.

 Lady Helena’s eyes too fell upon Mrs.Swan, watching in fascination as she gently caressed the cigarette between her voluptuous red lips. “Beautiful bitch” she muttered to herself disdainfully. But her face quickly turned red in sheer embarrassment as Mrs.Swan turned and looked straight at her, blowing smoke in her direction, allowing a wry smile to animate her beautiful face.

The following morning was unusually warm for the time of year in the North Atlantic and Mrs.Swan was sunbathing conspicuously in a corner of the first class recreation deck. Occasionally she would arch her long neck forward so she could see the passengers as they promenaded to and fro on the deck below. Amongst them she saw the man with the broken heart, standing alone and forlorn at the ship’s rail, staring down into the inky nothingness of the sea as it swept by. She watched him whilst finishing her cigarette and then turned away just in time to see Helena walking towards her. Helena was not the first person that morning to have looked in admiration at her body as she stretched out on a sun bed in her scarlet satin swimsuit. She let her gaze remain upon her a second or two more than she would normally have thought polite, and was clearly uncomfortable when Mrs.Swan looked up at her and smiled at her, the same way she’d smiled at her in the saloon the previous afternoon, but this time her smile was brazenly followed by a blown kiss, which was more than enough to make Helena quicken her pace and hurry off, her face blushing red in the warm sunshine.