The rest of the week got worse from there.
Friday did finally arrive, despite the week crawling along more slowly than a fat-bellied iguana.
Jock had rounded up a group of bleary-eyed bartenders to be our companions for the day. Since he was the only one I knew, we decided to ride together. Nick had begged off coming with us. “Not really my thing,” he’d said.
At the rental place, Jock allowed me to choose our Harley. I didn’t know anything about motorbikes, so naturally, I chose based on looks. The only non-black bike in the bunch, it was a big, silver, hulking beast with shiny double exhaust pipes and a very sexy name—V-Rod. Like all their bikes, the rental manager explained, it had been fitted with a backrest on the passenger seat. It didn’t look exactly comfortable or supportive or substantial, but I figured I’d be leaning forward in excitement the whole time anyway.
“What a monster!” exclaimed Jock. “It looks a bit like a bull, don’t you think, Ellie?”
Getting a bit nervous by that stage, I just nodded and smiled. Jock noticed my trepidation and squeezed my arm. “You’ll be right, lass,” he said reassuringly.
Jock, in a very gentlemanly move, paid my share of the rental, waving away my protests. It was sweet of him, especially as I still hadn’t accumulated much cash.
Although helmets were mandatory on the island, nobody appeared to be bothered about wearing protective clothing. I’d worn jeans and long sleeves, but I’d assumed there’d be other clothing on offer, like jackets and boots, but that turned out not to be the case. I said a little prayer for our safety and jumped on behind Jock, who was revving the engine impatiently.
After the first few terrifying minutes, the scenery distracted me enough to take my mind off my fear. Besides, Jock felt strong and confident in his riding. Caitlin, optimistically attired in a bikini top and shorts, was whooping and yelling with her usual lovely style of enthusiasm.
Between the distinct roar of the Harley engines and the thick, padded helmets, it was impossible to carry on a conversation, so I just leaned into Jock and enjoyed the journey.
The weather was truly sublime in its non-London perfection. The sun beat down with the intensity of a bonfire and the skin on my arms felt warm through the thin fabric of my peasant top. I rolled up my sleeves to soak up more vitamin D.
The sky was a remarkable blue, and I leaned my head way back until the smattering of fluffy clouds seemed to spin overhead. Peering around Jock at the front riders, I saw Caitlin perched upon a tiny pillion seat, waving her arms, dancing and gyrating. She had no fear.
“Are you enjoying the ride?!” Jock yelled over his shoulder.
I nodded enthusiastically, or at least as much as my massive helmet would allow. “Brilliant!” I shouted back.
It really was superb. The bikes were a blast, but the stunning surroundings added a new dimension to the experience and distracted me from my fear of flying off the back like a paper bag in the wind. I closed my eyes and smiled to myself. It was near impossible to feel depressed in the Caribbean.
Riding in a group was also thrilling. The collective noise we made and the attention we got as we roared past groups of tourists gave me a real high. We were just like The Wild Ones, albeit a little less cool and intimidating.
Up ahead, Caitlin was gesturing and yelling at her rider, who waved and motioned to a group of colourful shacks before slowing down to a stop in front of one. A small café, it housed a motley collection of tables and chairs made out of recycled wood and building materials. The haphazard décor created a warm, inviting ambience, and wafting out the serving window was an even more inviting smell. My stomach had been rumbling as loud as the bikes; thank god it was lunchtime.
Jock and I grabbed a table, bravely allowing Caitlin to order for us. Thinking about the children we’d seen while riding through the villages, I asked Jock about his family and childhood. He took a deep breath and removed his sunglasses, the filtered sunlight intensifying the incredible shade of his blue eyes. They distracted me for a moment as he started telling me about his early years in Scotland.
It wasn’t exactly the happy tales of hopscotch and roast dinners I had experienced; his father had left them for a family friend when Jock was two, leaving his heartbroken mother to bring up four children on her own. Jock had three sisters; the youngest, Bonnie, was diagnosed with quite severe autistic disorder at the age of four, placing considerable extra strain on his mother.
“She was such a brave and strong woman, my mother,” Jock said, smiling fondly. “You wouldn’t have known how hard her life was. Aye, it was really hard; but she kept fighting and smiling and looking after us like it was the most natural thing in the world to raise a family on your own.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t know how she did it, Ellie. She held down two jobs and still managed to keep a clean house and put food on the table.” He smiled again as he added, “My sisters were grand too. They helped with Bonnie and with me—making me do my homework, when all I wanted was to kick the football outside with the lads. We drank lots of tea; ‘cures all kinds of ills’, my mother used to say.”
“She sounds wonderful, Jock, and so do your sisters,” I said. Growing up with so many strong women was no doubt what made Jock the sensitive and respectful man he was today.
“I’m really quite lucky, you know. We had an arsehole for a father, and nought in terms of money and clothes and games, but we had a real strength and security, just the five of us. Not many people can say that. And when I’m a dad, I’ll be the best there is… I won’t shack up with anyone until I’ve found the right woman,” he said. “I don’t believe in divorce and bringing up children without both parents.”
His confidence and gratitude were lovely.
“Let’s not talk about me anymore, Ellie,” he said, his eyes shining. “Tell me about your family and friends back home.”
Jock was genuinely interested in my background. He laughed at my stories about my parents’ silly antics, smiled at stories of their lovely, sweet relationship, and demanded to hear more of the scrapes I’d got into in my childhood. “Cheers to your parents, lass,” Jock said, clinking his can of Coke with my water. “I hope we can both be like them some day.”
As we headed back to the bikes with the others, I asked him if he’d met Cooper yet. He hadn’t, so I told him about Cooper’s amazing background, expecting that Jock would be as impressed as I’d been.
“Well, that’s mighty interesting,” Jock said when I finished. The corner of his mouth twisted. “Unbelievable, even.” He sighed and then smiled, saying, “Bring the lad to the bar tonight. If he comes with your recommendation, I’m sure he’s brilliant.”
Later, in our cabin, Caitlin had undressed and was wandering about with only a g-string on as though it was the most natural thing in the world. “You know, dude,” she said, “I’ve been thinking about it, and the only way to get Gabriel back for porking that ancient bitch is to fuck someone else. The new Golf Pro, Alex, is hot. He and Gabriel used to be best friends, but they had some big fight last contract and are now sworn enemies. Might give him a call.” She smiled mischievously and slapped her own arse.
As much as I loved her, she was definitely a troublemaker. I grabbed our Kahlua bottle and poured two shots. With Caitlin about to shag up a storm with Gabriel’s arch enemy—we were sure as hell going to need them.
Chapter Ten
“Fuck, Cooper is hot,” Jacoline stage-whispered to Caitlin over breakfast a few days later. Caitlin snorted and stuffed a huge pancake into her mouth. “Well, you know, he’s not actually ‘hot’, but he’s really funny and charming,” Jacoline amended.
Caitlin swallowed her massive mouthful and held up her hands in protest. “No, no, Jac, I’m not judging. Each to her own, I always say.” She raised her eyebrows with mock cynicism and looked down at her plate. Jacoline elbowed her and Caitlin laughed and said playfully, “Okay, okay, whatever you say. He’s awesome. Don’t hurt me!”
“Sssshhhhhhhh,�
� Jacoline whispered. “I don’t want everyone to hear. You know what these bastards are like.”
It was interesting how someone like Cooper could be the subject of such female fancy. If I were honest, he wasn’t exactly a looker, but his friendly, open demeanour was clearly held in high esteem by Jacoline. She’d declared herself completely finished with ‘bad boys’ a few weeks earlier.
While I couldn’t say I was as enamoured of Cooper as Jacoline, I had liked the way he’d opened up to me on his first day. It was always nice to click with someone and have that immediate rapport. I hadn’t seen him much since he’d first come aboard; I’d meant to invite him for a social drink with my mates and introduce him around, but hadn’t got around to it yet.
Before I could launch myself into the girls’ conversation, Maria entered the mess, drawing all eyes, including mine. She was wearing a bikini and very little else, which wasn’t permitted in staff eating areas. Not that any of our waiters were about to complain. They all loved Maria and openly worshipped her tanned, curvaceous body. She fed them compliments like little dogs, keeping them sweet for when she needed something.
“Good morning, chicas,” she purred, slinking into the mess and slipping into a seat. Two waiters were on their way before she could beckon, one elbowing the other out of the way. She crossed one long leg over the other and turned her attention towards Jacoline. “Soooo, Jacoline,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes, “I saw that you and Cooper were getting very cosy in the crew bar last night.”
Here we go again.
“Fuuuuck off, Maria,” Jacoline said angrily. “It was just one drink with a new colleague, and you know it. Stop trying to cause trouble!” She stood up. “I’m so sick of not being able to have a conversation with someone without you all thinking we’re sleeping together!”
She stormed out of the mess, leaving her half-eaten breakfast on the table. Caitlin and I looked at each other in shock. I always found those kinds of scenes difficult, because I never knew whether to run after the friend or sit in an awkward silence with everybody else.
We ran after her.
“They just drive me crazy!” Jacoline said when we reached her, spitting out each word. “You know what it’s like. You speak to someone for five minutes, and it’s on…”
“…like Donkey Kong?” Caitlin finished helpfully. We all laughed. “We know, Jac, it really sucks ass, but there’s not much we can do except stay in our rooms every night.”
“Yeah, like me,” I said, feeling relieved as it meant for once I wasn’t the one being targeted by Maria.
“Sorry I wasn’t there to back you up, Jac. I was kind of busy with my own private party in Alex’s cabin.” Caitlin said, almost blushing. “Man, that golf pro can really deliver the goods. Great arm strength, good hands…got one-in-a-hole every time!” She laughed raucously at her own joke. Jacoline and I shook our heads in feigned judgement.
“Do you need me to accidentally let that slip next time I see Gabriel?” Jacoline asked as she opened the door to our cabin.
“Nah, I’ve got a feeling Alex will take care of that,” Caitlin said with an evil grin.
There was a timid knock at the door. Caitlin jumped up to open it, undoing her top button as she went, clearly hoping Alex, or maybe Gabriel, would be behind it. But it was Cooper, looking a bit sheepish.
“Hey, girls,” he said, “sorry to interrupt. I was just wondering what I should do today? I haven’t seen the new roster or anything.”
“Ellie will sort you out,” said Jacoline, pushing me towards him. “She was just about to go up to Justin’s office anyway.”
I knew from her white lie she didn’t want to be seen with him again so soon. I wasn’t that keen on taking him up to get a roster though, as it meant an unnecessary run-in with Justin.
When we arrived at Justin’s office, I knocked on the door timidly. “Knock, knock,” I said, tapping on the doorframe.
Justin looked up. He smiled when he saw Cooper. “Hey, Coop,” he said, all smiles. “I bet you’re here to pick up this?” He handed Cooper the roster.
“Thanks, JR, I sure was,” said Cooper, holding it as though it was the Shrine of Turin. Wow, they were on nickname basis already.
“Ellie, don’t forget it’s ‘stores’ today,” Justin said, finally acknowledging me. “Don’t leave it as late as you did last time please.” He was referring to the dreaded fortnightly task of collecting photography supplies from the large pallets which were dumped on the St Thomas dock, beside the ship, and so far I’d delayed it as much as possible every time. Just thinking about it was a nightmare. I had to wheel them inside on a trolley and put them away in their various hidey holes. Much harder than it sounded, it normally involved about twenty trips to and from the ship’s hull. Since the storage areas were on three different levels, many rides up and down in the freight elevator were required. It always included a lot of sweating and swearing. Stores was the Pic Stop person’s thankless job, and nobody ever helped.
“Hey, Ellie, I’ll help you,” said Cooper, interrupting my self-pity party. “It’ll be much faster with two people.”
Justin raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.
Walking down to the dock, I was excited by the idea of having assistance with my least-favourite job of the cruise. Still, I thought it would be polite to offer him an out. “Look, thanks so much, Cooper, but you really don’t need to help me. Everybody hates stores, and it’s my job, really.” I smiled, and silently hoped he’d still help me.
“No problem at all, Ellie,” he said, smiling. “I’m always a team player. Besides, you seem like an awesome chick, and I haven’t been able to spend any time with you this week.”
It was hard to know what to say to a declaration like that. “Um, thanks,” I managed in response.
It was obvious, as we sorted out the boxes on the dock, Cooper had done this before. He arranged the boxes into piles, according to where they had to be stored. I was embarrassed not to have thought of it myself before. I normally just took a bunch at a time, but they were so mixed up it took forever to sort them out once on board.
We worked in silence, traipsing back and forth onto the ship, and the piles depleted surprisingly quickly.
When we were finished, Cooper sat down on a crate, wiped his brow and cleaned his thick glasses. He motioned for me to sit next to him, suddenly looking very serious.
“You know how I told you about my old job last week?” he said. “Well, I didn’t tell you the whole story.”
Very intriguing. “Okay,” I said slowly. “What do you mean?”
“Well, the real reason I left the police force was that they wouldn’t let my fiancée travel with me.”
“Fiancée?” I said, a bit confused. I thought he’d left that job because he was tired of all the travelling? It was another thing that didn’t add up.
Was I doubting him again for a reason? He seemed harmless enough, not to mention helpful… Maybe he hadn’t been ready to mention her before. Maybe he’d left that life for a multitude of reasons. Still, a series of six month photography contracts at sea hardly constituted a relationship-friendly move. I was intrigued. “Do you find cruise ship work gives you more time together?”
He looked down at his hands. “Amanda—that was her name—died a couple of years ago,” he said. “That’s when I started working on ships.”
Oh, so he’d left his job for her, then she had passed away. That explained it. Lost for words, I stared out at the ocean. I hadn’t quite been expecting the mood to turn so dark.
“It’s okay, we can talk about it,” he added, acknowledging my awkward silence. “I still miss her so much, but I’m learning to move on.” He smiled a thin smile, his eyes looking sad.
“I’m so sorry, Cooper,” I murmured. “I really don’t know what to say. That is just so awful… Such a terrible thing to deal with.” Why did my ability to talk nonstop always disappear at the moments I really wanted something to say?
Cooper stared at
the ship. “I haven’t been with anyone else for three years. I haven’t been able to bring myself to find joy in another woman.”
I still didn’t know what to say, so my idiot alter-ego spoke for me. “Can I ask how she died?” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them immediately. I knew there was a reason I didn’t normally probe.
He looked down. “She died in a car accident,” he whispered. “I think that’s another reason I like working on ships. Means I’m not thinking about her every time I get into a car.”
I could feel the pain emanating from his every pore.
“Actually, Ellie, sorry, I know I brought it up, but would it be okay if we didn’t talk about it anymore?” he said, his face turned away again. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eye with a balled fist.
Did he suddenly look more attractive? No, Ellie. Don’t be daft. It was probably just a reaction to learning about his tragic loss. I was a sucker for vulnerability. The doubts which had been plaguing me only moments before melted away. Cooper had such charm and found it so easy to get on with everyone, and was so helpful; as Dad had always said, it was important how a bloke got on with other people. Well, Dad had been thinking specifically about boyfriends, but now was an entirely inappropriate time to be having any romantic thoughts about Cooper. Even if there was something special about a man showing his sensitive side.
“Of course,” I said. “I’m sorry, Cooper. I hope I didn’t upset you.” I felt awful for him, and wished I’d known what to say when he told me about his fiancée. Instead I was more like a guppy. Big eyes and open mouth. Nothing of value to contribute. Nice one, Ellie.
We both sat silently. The easy-going nature of our earlier conversation had been obliterated with talk of the past.
As a parting thought, Cooper leaned over and wiped his hands on his trousers. “Ellie, I’d appreciate you not mentioning this to the others. I won’t be telling anyone else.”
Sex, Lies, and Cruising Page 14
