Content
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea
— Edgar Allan Poe ‘Annabel Lee’
Christopher knew the cruise had been a mistake from the minute he joined the ship in Dublin.
Scheduled for prompt departure at seven in the evening, the luckless vessel found itself trapped alongside City Quay until late the following morning due to the failure of the lifting road bridge across the Liffey. That was the story anyway.
Already it was apparent that the Lady of Tyrone, once famed for her impeccably elegant cruises around the remoter parts of Ireland, Wales and Scotland, was no longer what she was. A tall story here and there, excusing disaster, diversion or delay—de rigueur—was the least of his worries.