a few choice items from the menu.
“Oh, those won’t do at all,” Mrs. Klimowski huffed. “Not after that indigestible ‘Dracula dish’ last night. I’ll just have to order something bland—a slice or two of dry toast, perhaps. Maybe I’ll have something richer later on.”
London took the woman by the elbow and escorted her toward a table.
“I hope you’ve planned an excellent tour for today,” Mrs. Klimowski said.
London felt a twinge of worry. Mrs. Klimowski seemed rather frail as she guided her along. She wondered—should she make a firm suggestion that the woman stay on board and rest for today? Should she insist that the ship’s medic take a look at her?
Then London remembered what she had learned earlier from reading the crew list. Since this was a smaller ship than most cruise vessels, many of the crew doubled up on their jobs. She herself had way more responsibilities than she’d ever had before. And as Bryce had mentioned, he was the boat’s medic as well as the chef, available to treat minor ailments and to route passengers to onshore hospitals in emergencies. And she knew that the chef was quite busy right now.
As London helped the elderly woman into her chair, she assured her that the tour ought to be quite stimulating.
Then London went back to greeting other guests, pleased by how many of their names she could remember. When she finished, she looked for a place to sit down and have breakfast herself. Emil Waldmüller was sitting alone, and he gestured for her to join him. She still felt strange after their uncomfortable exchange on the Rondo deck, and she wasn’t sure whether to feel pleased or not.
But as she sat down with him, she immediately felt charmed again by his Old World bearing and his sophisticated smile. When a server hurried over to them. Emil ordered breakfast scones, and London decided on Eggs Benedict.
“I understand that we will be taking a tour group out this morning.” Emil said.
“That’s right,” London said, feeling a flash of anxiety at the task ahead of her. “We’re scheduled right after breakfast.”
Although she knew that it was part of Emil’s job to assist on scheduled tours, she wondered if it was going to be comfortable working with him today.
Apparently Emil noticed her hesitation, because his smile turned just a little shy and sheepish.
“Eh, I promise to be perfectly polite to all of the passengers. Even the dog.”
London felt reassured. Perhaps he’d realized that he’d put her off a little last night, and wanted to do better.
*
After breakfast, London returned to her room and changed into a nice pair of slacks and a lightweight blouse. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she looked over the notes she’d prepared last night and loaded into her cell phone for today’s walking tour.
Last night she’d used the Internet to review details about Gyor—its sights, its history, and its people. Now she had an impressive ongoing lecture prepared to deliver as she led her tourists through the city. She felt confident that she could recite it all by heart if she needed to.
She took the elevator up to the Menuetto deck and the reception room. Emil and Amy were already there, and some forty people soon arrived for the tour. The other passengers had either chosen to wander about on their own or to stay on the ship. Before they left the reception area, she and Amy took down the names of the people in the tour group.
Then London, Emil, and Amy led the group out onto the simple railed gangway, which extended over a small raft to the riverside. At the end of the gangway, a group of townspeople stood staring in fascination at the boat. London understood why. The Nachtmusik was a truly startling sight for this stretch of the Small Danube.
They were a friendly group, and many of them greeted the tourists as they set foot on the riverbank, some of them by saying “Hello,” “Good morning,” or “Welcome” in English. As London led the tour group away from the boat, she turned to wave goodbye to Amy. But she saw that Amy was talking to one of the townspeople—a rather ordinary-looking man who looked about London’s age. London quickly realized what was going on.
Amy’s flirting with him.
Or he’s flirting with her.
Or they’re flirting with each other.
It was a bit of a surprise. Until now, Amy had struck London as too stiff and officious for this kind of thing. And now London wasn’t sure