Dastardly Deeds by Ilsa Evans Read Free Book Online Page A

with the Anzac dawn service, scheduled for the following morning, having led many to opt for a quiet evening. Lyn Russo was the exception, making the most of her final night aboard ship. On the way back to our room we passed her in the piano bar, cocktail in hand, collecting signatures on a napkin to petition the band to play ‘Nutbush City Limits’.
    I spared her a wry thought as the alarm went off the following morning at 4.45 am. The dawn service was held on the upper deck, a sombre yet oddly exhilarating experience. As the sun crested the horizon, it became clear that we were in the mouth of a cove, bracketed by hills in the distance. Anzac Cove, where a century ago Australian soldiers and their Turkish opponents had died in the thousands. The service finished with the bugle playing the last post, and the haunting notes seemed to echo across the water and into the stillness of history.
    There was ample time afterwards for showers, followed by breakfast. By nine o’clock, Petra and I, with the girls, joined the throng of sensibly shod passengers heading down to disembarkation. I filched muffins from the buffet on the way, secreting them in my handbag. Soon we were walking along the dock in the direction of a staggered row of tourist buses. It felt strange to be on shore once more. I already felt homesick for the ship.
    It was easy to pick our bus as Lew was parked by the front door, alongside most of our fellow travellers. There was also a stocky man holding a sign that read TAYLOR GROUP .
    ‘Sounds like an investment portfolio,’ muttered Petra.
    ‘Welcome!’ Lew was beaming. ‘Come, gather round. We’ll just wait for everyone else and then I’ve got a few words to say.’
    ‘Did you sleep in?’ asked Yen, eyeing Petra and me.
    I felt my serenity slipping. ‘It’s just gone nine. We’re actually early.’
    Her gaze slipped upwards. ‘That is my
least
favourite of your hats. It looks like a floral tribute. Have you heard from Lucy? I emailed her yesterday about the shop and haven’t heard back.’
    ‘No, and thanks.’ I straightened my felt hat self-consciously, tucking my hair back. I’d thought it went rather well with my cargos and a coral-pink T-shirt.
    ‘Hello, all!’ Tessa had joined us, Darcy grinning by her side. Behind them I could see Lyn Russo approaching, in dark sunglasses, and also, rather surprisingly, Deb Taylor and her reunion friends.
    ‘Okay, so we’re all here.’ Lew waited for the latecomers to join us and then wheeled forward and spun in a tight semicircle to ensure he had everyone’s attention. ‘First of all, I’d like to introduce you to our tour guide for the day, Ali.’
    The stocky man smiled genially. He had a deeply receding hairline and a tuft of dark hair in the centre, like an unfortunate island.
    ‘And now for the not-so-good news. I know you were all looking forward to touring Gallipoli today, on Anzac Day, and then Troy tomorrow. But Ali tells me that there’re lengthy delays with the ferry and it’ll be about a three-hour wait both ways. So I’ve made the executive decision to reverse our order. Do Troy today instead and Gallipoli tomorrow when the crowds are less. I do apologise, but it really was the only option.’
    ‘Dictatorship,’ sniffed Enid from behind me.
    ‘Oh
good
,’ said Lyn Russo. ‘Now Michael will be with us for Gallipoli. He won’t be here till this afternoon,’ she explained to anybody who was interested. ‘His meeting was delayed. Couldn’t be helped.’
    ‘Now for some better news,’ continued Lew. ‘Our group today has expanded.’
    I was suddenly sure that Ashley was right behind me. My spine tingled.
    ‘Of course you all know my wife Deb.’ Lew waved an arm in her direction. ‘And I’d also like to introduce her friends, Scott Quartermain, Don Barrow and Phoebe Gould. There were some problems with their booked tour so they’ll be joining us today and also tomorrow. And now, let’s go!’
    I turned around but there