The dining cabin

At dinner, in the Captain's mahogany and brass private dining cabin, the atmosphere is as formal as the dress code. Bouts of silence are punctuated by the lone voice of the RH I. Seedat, who draws on enthusiastic anecdotes to buoy the conversation. But even he can’t lift the sombre mood.

To my immediate left sits Herr Hanz Oppenheim, which affords me a perfect opportunity to carry out the first step of my plan. To my right is the dour Captain’s wife. My father, with whom I've not yet had an opportunity to air my grievances, is seated to the Captain’s left. The Captain is at the head of the table and to his right, Effemery. Most annoyingly, Miss Burroughs is seated beside the first officer and they are at the minute engaged in deep conversation, which, though inaudible to me, I'm convinced is not as interesting as her bobbing head of brown curls and serious expression suggests. My knife clatters to the plate, but she takes no notice. Alongside her the RH I. Seedat catches my eye and winks.

I turn to Herr Oppenheim, but he is expressing another opinion on Bach to the RH I. Seedat, so I shift my attention to the Captain’s wife who is engrossed in observing her daughter across the table. She is perhaps in her mid forties and was plainly once beautiful, but life has exacted a heavy toll and it shows in every line on her face, in particular the disapproving furrows which gather at her painted lips. I notice not once does the Captain even glance in her direction.

‘It is not polite to stare, young man.’

I swivel in the chair to find Herr Oppenheim regarding me over the rim of his spectacles.

‘Oh … I uh … I was …’

He smiles and changes tack. ‘I have seen you rather busy about the place of late, yes?’

I see my opening and take it. ‘Yes, though I’d rather be …’

He cuts me off with a swish of his napkin and a dab at his lips. ‘Assisting me in the engine room, perhaps, ja?’

Oppenheim is clearly an astute man.

‘To be perfectly honest, Herr Oppenheim, I’m not sure I know anything about engines.’ I can hear Miss Burroughs' laughter floating above the rest of the conversation.

‘This is not a problem. It is people who know very little und think they know a lot who pose, I should say, the most significant problem.’

He dissects his roast beef (or something resembling roast beef) into precise rectangles, and I know this is exactly the man to help me find the stowaway.

‘Meet me outside my cabin on Thursday after breakfast und we shall begin your tutelage.’