'Certainly,' Nell answered robustly. 'The party and the race will go on.'

No one, not even I, was cynical enough to say, 'Sheridan would have wished it.'

I helped clear away the breakfast and wash the dishes and pack everything into boxes for sending back to the caterers in Toronto, and when we'd finished I found that Nell had collected gratuities from the passengers to give to the waiters, and Emil, Cathy and Oliver had split it four ways. Emil put a bundle of notes into my hand, and he and the others were smiling.

'I can't take it,' I said.

Emil said, 'We know you aren't a waiter, and we know you aren't an actor, but you have worked for it It's yours.'

'And we know you've worked all morning although it's obvious you've hurt your arm,' Cathy said. 'I made it worse… I'm real sorry.'

'And it would all have been very much harder work without you,' Oliver said. 'So we thought we'd like to give you a present.'

'And that's it,' Cathy added, pointing to the notes.

They waited expectantly, wanting my thanks.

'I… er, I don't know…' I kissed Cathy suddenly; hugged her. 'All right. I'll buy something to remember us by. To remember the journey. Thank you all very much.'

They laughed, pleased. 'It's been fun,' Cathy said, and Emil added ironically, 'But not every week.'

I shook Emil's hand, and Oliver's Kissed Cathy again. Shook hands with Angus. Was offered Simone's cheek for a peck. I looked round at their faces, wanting to hold on to the memory.

'See you again,' I said, and they said, 'Yes,' and we all knew it was doubtful. I went away along the swaying corridor, taking Tommy to extinction and, as often in the past, not looking back. Too many regrets in looking back.

In the sleeping cars everyone was packing and holding impromptu parties in each other's rooms, walking in and out of the open doors. Filmer's door was shut.

Nell was in her roomette, with the door open, packing.

'What's wrong with your arm?' she said, folding one of the straight skirts.

'Is it so obvious?'

'Most obvious when Cathy bumped into you with her tray. The shock went right through you.'

'Yes, well, it's not serious.'

'I'll get you a doctor.'

'Don't be silly.'

'I suppose,' she said, 'Mercer won't run his horse now on Tuesday. Such a shame. That damned Sheridan.'

The biblical description, I thought, was accurate.

'Xanthe,' Nell said, putting the skirt in her suitcase, 'says you were kind to her at Lake Louise. Did you really say something about the corruption of self-importance? She said she learned a lot.'

'She grew up this morning,' I said.

'Yes, didn't she?'

'If we go to Hawaii,' I said, 'you can wear a sarong and a hibiscus behind your ear.'

She paused in the packing. 'They wouldn't really go,' she said judiciously, 'with a clipboard.'

George came out of his office and told her the cellular telephone was now working, if she wanted to make her calls, and I went into my roomette and changed out of uniform into Tommy's outdoor clothes, and packed everything away. The train journey might be finished, I was thinking, but my real job wasn't. There was much to be done. Filmer might be sick, but it was sick sharks that attacked swimmers, and there could still be a dorsal fin unseen below the surface.

Nell came out of George's office and along to my door. 'No helicopter needed,' she said. 'They've found Sheridan already.'

'That was quick.'

'Apparently he fell on to a fish ladder.'

'You're kidding me.'

'No, actually.' She stifled a laugh, as improper to the occasion. 'George says the ladders are a sort of staircase hundreds of metres long that are built in the river because the salmon can't swim upstream to spawn against the strength of the water, because the water flows much faster that it used to because a huge rock-fall constricted it.'

'I'll believe it.' I said.

'Some men were working on the lower ladder,' she said, 'and Sheridan was swept down in the water.'

'Dead?' I asked.

'Very.'

'You'd better tell Mercer.'

She made a reluctant face. 'You do it.'

'I can't. George could.'

George agreed to go with the good bad news and hurried off so as to be back at his post when we reached the station.

'Did you know,' I said to Nell, 'that Emil, Cathy and Oliver wanted to share their tips with me?'

'Yes, they asked me if I thought it would be all right. I do hope,' she said with sudden anxiety, 'that you accepted? They said you'd been great. They wanted to thank you. They were so pleased with themselves.'

'Yes,' I said, relieved to be able to. 'I accepted. I told them I'd buy something to remind me of them and the trip. And I will.'

She relaxed. 'I should have warned you. But then, I guess… no need.' She smiled. 'What are you really?'

'Happy,' I said.

'Yuk.'

'I try hard, but it keeps breaking out. My boss threatens to fire me for it.'

'Who's your boss?'

'Brigadier Valentine Catto.'

She blinked. 'I never know when you're telling the truth.'

Catto, I thought. Cats. Sobering.

'I have just,' I said slowly, 'been struck by a blinding idea.'

'Yes, you rather look like it.'

Time, I thought. Not enough of it.

'Come back,' Nell said. 'I've lost you.'

'You don't happen to have a world air timetable with you, do you?'

'There are several in the office. What do you want?'

'A flight from London to Vancouver tomorrow.'

She raised her eyebrows, went into George's office, consulted on the telephone and came out again.

'Air Canada leaves Heathrow 3 p. m., arrives Vancouver 4. 25.'

'Consider yourself kissed.'

'Are you still a waiter, then, in the eyes of the passengers?'

There were passengers all the time in the corridor.

'Mm,' I said thoughtfully, 'I think so. For another two days. To the end.'

'All right.'

George returned and reported that all three of the Lorrimores had received the news of Sheridan calmly and would go to the hotel as planned, and make arrangements from there.

'Poor people,' Nell said. 'What a mess.'

I asked George what he would be doing. Going back to Toronto, of course, possibly by train, as soon as the various VIA enquiries were completed, which would be tomorrow. Couldn't he stay for the race, I asked, and go back on the Tuesday evening? He wasn't sure. I took him into his office and convinced him, and he was chuckling again as the train slowed to a crawl and inched into the terminus at Vancouver.

The wheels stopped. Seven days almost to the hour since they'd set off, the passengers climbed down from the travelling hotel and stood in little groups outside, still smiling and still talking. Zak and the other actors moved among them, shaking farewell hands. The actors had commitments back in Toronto and weren't staying for the race.

Zak saw me through the window and bounced up again into the sleeping car to say goodbye.

'Don't lose touch, now,' he said. 'Any time you want a job writing mysteries, let me know.'

'OK.'

'Bye, guy,' he said.

'Bye.'

He jumped off the train again and trailed away beneath his mop of curls towards the station buildings, with Donna, Pierre, Raoul, Mavis, Walter and Giles following like meteorites after a cornet.

I waited for Filmer to pass. He walked on his own, looking heavy and intent. He was wearing an overcoat and carrying the briefcase and not bothering to be charming. There was a firmness of purpose in his step that I didn't much like, and when Nell took a pace forward to ask him something he answered her with a brief turn of his head but no break in his stride.

When he'd 'gone, I jumped down beside Nell who was carefully checking other passengers off against a list on the clipboard as they passed. It was a list, I discovered by looking over her shoulder, of the people catching the special bus to check into the Four Seasons Hotel. Against Filmer's name, as against all the others, I was relieved to see a tick.