On Thursday, the ship docked in the Bahamas, the water below a calm crystal clear blue. Out towards the Atlantic Ocean, the imposing pink Atlantis hotel stood proudly on Paradise Island, like a gateway to Nassau. Many of the guests would spend the day there whipping down the water slides and drinking cocktails on the idyllic beaches.
Kristy, Pete, and I had the morning off, so we jumped in a cab and headed to a secluded beach, which, given that it was only eight-thirty in the morning, we had to ourselves. It was heaven. I read, swam in the millpond-like sea, and walked barefoot in the powdery, white sand. After an hour or so, I left Kristy and Pete sunbathing to meander back to the shoreline.
As I sat taking in the view, I thought of nothing as I stretched out my legs, allowing the water to lap them gently. Letting my head fall back to feel the sun on my face, I took in a deep breath, allowing the warm air fill my lungs, feeling lighter and freer than I had in a long time. As though I had a reason to exist again – and it had only been two weeks.
‘It seems bizarre that today is Christmas Eve,’ Kristy said as we lazed on the sand a little later, the sun beating down on our lotion-lathered bodies.
She was right. I’d not given it a second thought. I’d spent so much time dreading the thought of Christmas back home, but here it had barely registered. I thought of the village, the cosy multi-coloured lights adorning the high street, the festive displays in the shops. Jean always had two little trees on either side of the café door, each decorated with warm-white twinkling lights.
I couldn’t bear to think of my house and how it wouldn’t be adorned with the decorations Daniel and had amassed over the years, especially the pretty wreath we’d hung on the door every year since we’d got married and the tree ornaments we’d collected from places we’d been. It was hard to think there were other people making their own Christmas memories there.
All of a sudden, Pete got up and wandered off without speaking. I looked to Kristy who just shrugged but as soon as he’d got out of earshot, she turned onto her side to face me. ‘So what do you think of Pete then?’ She propped her head up with her hand, elbow dug into the sand in a contrived attempt at nonchalance.
‘He’s a nice guy,’ I said. ‘Why?’
‘I think he likes you.’ She prodded my arm playfully. ‘He’s always popped over to say hello to me before, and we have a bit of banter but normally he hangs out with the entertainment team. Recently, however, he’s popped over more often.’ She winked.
I wasn’t sure what to do with that information. The last thing I’d come away for was to meet a man, especially gorgeous ones much younger than myself, with sex radiating from their bodies. No, thank you!
‘Britney from the entertainment team has a thing for Pete though, so you’d have to be quick. She won’t mess about,’ she added. Well, that solved that mini-issue. I definitely didn’t want to be caught up in a high-school-esque battle over Pete.
‘Well why doesn’t she just tell him?’ I asked.
‘She flaunts herself about and drapes herself over him so I suppose she has. He’s just not noticed. Either that or he’s playing hard to get.’ She lay back on the sand.
‘Or not interested.’
‘You have seen Britney, haven’t you?’ As she spoke a taxi pulled up and five people got out.
‘Speak of the devils,’ she groaned, covering her face with her book. ‘This beach is the worst-kept secret in Nassau.’
I rolled onto my stomach and pretended to read my book, all the while peering covertly under my sunglasses at the five members of the entertainment team who had just stepped out of the taxi. Britney, who was tall and skinny, with long highlighted sandy-brown hair tumbling down her back, was leading the way.
‘Hey, you wanna get a spot over there?’ I heard her say in her bubbly American accent. A sheer white kaftan floated around her tanned, lean thighs as she strode effortlessly across the beach in her high cork wedges. She reminded me a little of Kelly in that ‘Victoria’s Secret’ sense, but since she hadn’t stolen my husband I didn’t feel any malice towards her. They walked past us and took a spot about twenty metres away, close to the water.
I was about to suggest going for a walk into Nassau when Pete came bounding back holding three orange-coloured slushies.
‘Something to cool you ladies down,’ he said, handing us each one. ‘It’s a frozen Caribbean Breeze.’ I took a sip. It was so strong it almost blew my head off but it tasted fruity and refreshing – and took the edge off the awkward tension that accompanied the entertainment team. ‘I’d better go and say hi.’ He nodded at them before heading over.
‘Oh hey, Pete,’ Britney said, shaking her long hair out as he neared them. She’d ditched the kaftan and was now wearing a tiny white bikini, which my mum – God rest her soul – would have said gave her ‘less coverage than a hanky’. She was sitting propped up on her hands and arching her back as if she were on a calendar shoot. I found her display kind of amusing. She was thrusting her chest out and twirling her hair around her finger. I’d heard of the term ‘peacocking’ through Jess and Amy and assumed this was the female version.
She reminded me of the girls I’d been intimidated by at college. It’s funny how those things stick with you over the years. As an adult, I could look at it differently. She was gorgeous, yet she clearly felt as though she needed to try hard to win the affections of Pete, who was practically drooling. Even confident people have insecurities. I turned back to my book.
I was soon distracted by a chant of ‘Britney, Britney, Britney.’ Peering over my sunglasses, I noticed everyone crowding around her whilst she dropped down to the white sand in a front split. I shook my head. If that’s what you had to do to get male attention these days I’d happily die a lonely old woman.
‘She does aerial acrobatics in one of the on-board shows,’ Kristy said, catching me looking.
‘Ahh, that explains the flexibility.’
‘She loves a crowd,’ Kristy said, and I detected a bitter undertone in her voice.
Pete came back over, laughing. ‘Hannah, have you met the guys?’ He ran his hands through his shaggy blond hair, his muscles rippling underneath his taut, tanned skin. Oh God.
‘Not yet.’ I gulped, fearing that his abs might make me come over all ‘Britney’. Though my effort at the splits would be significantly less elegant, resembling something more akin to a new-born calf on an ice rink, I imagined.
‘Come on over!’ he urged. Reluctantly, I dragged myself up, and he grabbed me by the hand to lead me over. His hand was cool from holding his slushie, and it felt so different to Daniel’s. Not in a good or bad way, just in a ‘new’ way. Pete introduced me to everyone and I was greeted by big smiles and a chorus of cheery ‘oh hey Hannah’s’.
I recognized one of them from HIIT that morning. A bloke – well, I say bloke, he looked about sixteen, though legally since he worked on the ship, he must have been twenty-one. His name was Zac; he was fairly scrawny compared to the other guys and had short bleached white hair. He was from LA and I could tell by the way he looked at Pete that he was gay. They were all young, but they seemed nice enough, and I instantly felt bad about judging them before I’d even spoken to them.
When Pete, Kristy, and I left, we had enough time for a half-hour wander around Nassau before we had to be back at work – there were manicures a-plenty to be done that afternoon in preparation for the Christmas Eve gala dinner.
A small Christmas tree in the window of a silver jewellery shop near the waterfront caught my eye. I smiled; it had given me an idea.
‘Hey, you two go back to the ship without me,’ I said to Pete and Kristy. ‘There’s something I want to do.’ I wandered inside, browsing the pretty bracelets and necklaces with different charms on. I wanted to buy myself a Christmas present to mark the next new phase of my life. It was a chapter where I wasn’t going to rely upon anybody else, or worry about pleasing others. It was the one where I’d focus on being me. It was therefore fitting that the only C
hristmas present I’d be receiving would be from myself.
I selected a dainty bracelet with an anchor charm on it. It seemed to symbolize finding my centre, mooring my sanity, and, of course, my new life aboard a ship – it was perfect. I handed some money to the cashier and put it on before heading back to my shift on the Requiescence.
***
‘Hey, George.’
‘Well hello there, Ms Hannah.’ He smiled warmly. George was about fifty years old. His black skin was completely uncreased and unblemished, but he had an air of wisdom around him that suggested he was older than he looked. ‘You want a rum and Coke?’
‘When in Rome.’ I smiled. Rum was hardly my drink of choice but I couldn’t ignore the local tipple. While he made my drink, I took in the Christmas decorations: golden shimmery ‘Merry Christmas’ bunting hung behind the bar whilst fairy lights and tinsel had been scattered around. The mess hall had been decorated too with some sad, droopy tinsel, and they had served a semi-festive dinner of turkey and veg with chips whilst the guests above would have dined on smoked salmon and fillet steak.
‘Where are your friends tonight?’ he asked, placing my drink down.
‘Kristy had to do a pedicure for a desperate client who’d forgotten her closed-toe pumps, and Pete was talking in the mess. He’s coming.’ I slid onto a bar stool and scanned the room. It was emptier than normal; most people were off getting ready for the Captain’s Christmas Ball I assumed.
‘Well, Cinderella, why are you not in your cabin getting ready for the ball?’
‘I’m afraid I don’t have a prince, George,’ I said jokingly. The truth was, I’d just planned on stretching out in bed with a book.
‘Why, you have a prince right ’ere,’ he said. Shocked, I looked up as Pete appeared beside me. George winked at us and walked away to serve the officer who was waiting at the other end of the bar.
I shook my head at Pete as my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. ‘I like George, but I could throw him overboard sometimes,’ I said, trying to alleviate the awkwardness.
‘He’s a great guy.’ He smiled and paused before asking, ‘Do you want to go to the ball?’ ignoring my attempt to brush over it.
I thought for a minute. It would be nice to venture up to the higher decks, to mingle amidst the opulence and grandeur of the ship. And I did have something to wear – we’d been told to bring a formal black dress for such occasions.
‘I suppose it might be fun,’ I said, remembering I was there to try new experiences.
‘Then your prince awaits.’ He stood up. ‘I’ll pick you up at your cabin in half an hour.’
Exactly thirty minutes later, I’d squeezed into my knee-length black satin dress. It pulled tight across the bust and pushed everything upwards, giving me both a waist and a cleavage – an instant reminder of why I’d forked out over a hundred quid for it. I pinned up the front of my hair, allowing the rest to fall in loose waves towards my shoulders, and then I topped up my make-up. The beauty of working in beauty was that my face was always painted on.
The gentle knock on the door sent a nervous flutter through my chest. I checked the mirror one last time and grabbed my bag before swinging the door open. My breath caught in my throat. There he stood in his tuxedo, perfectly fitted around his muscular frame, and a black bow tie (a proper one, not a clip-on) neatly knotted around his collar. His blond hair was slicked back tidily. He looked like a movie star about to walk down a red carpet to an Oscar party.
‘You scrub up well,’ I said, trying not let my pitch rise like a giddy teenager.
‘Why, thank you, ma’am. Shall we?’ He offered me his arm, and off we went.
The guests had gathered in the atrium, sipping champagne and posing for the professional photographers who were dotted around the edges of the room. You could choose from a range of backdrops, from black or white, to one of the ship, or a Caribbean sunset with Christmas lights printed across the top. ‘Come on, if we’re doing this, we do it right,’ Pete said, dragging me over to the photographer with the sunset backdrop.
I protested a little, but the earlier rum and the welcome drink of champers had loosened me up a little. The photographer turned us to the side and pressed me up against Pete’s taut chest. He obviously assumed we were a couple and neither of us protested.
The entertainment team were mingling and politely chatting to passengers, dressed in their finest formal attire – tuxedos and cocktail dresses. Britney and Zac stood at either side of the entrance to the cocktail lounge, which was doubling as a ballroom. Britney flashed Pete a huge smile as we walked past, and she gave me a small nod as if to say hello.
Inside, a huge Christmas tree dominated the stage, decorated with oversized red and gold bows, white lights, and crackers. The band was playing Christmas tunes and a group of children, dressed smartly in their best clothes, had gathered to the side of the stage waiting excitedly to be taken to meet Santa and to bake cookies. It was warm and cosy and lovely. I held Pete’s hand as he led me to the dance floor.
The songs were merry and we ‘rocked around the Christmas tree’ until White Christmas was played. I was about to suggest going to get a drink but Pete pulled me in close and started to sway to the music. I realized this was the first time I’d ever been to a ball. Daniel would have balked at the idea of donning a tux, but that aside, I’d never been invited to one. There hadn’t been a prom at college or school, but if there had, I imagined that it would have felt just as magical. As we swayed slowly, our bodies pressed against each other and I thought about how different Christmas might’ve been, had I stayed in Tinbury. The Bridget Jones ‘All by Myself’ scene sprang to mind.
‘Do you want to get some fresh air? Pete asked, after the song had finished.
‘Sure,’ I replied. My feet were killing me and I quite fancied sitting down somewhere. We grabbed another drink on our way out to the promenade deck. The warm breeze ruffled my hair as we strolled along, looking out into the vast blackness. It was so tranquil, the waves lapping the ship was the only sound. We sat down on some wooden deck chairs, taking in the salty air. I sipped my bubbly, struggling for something to say.
‘You look beautiful tonight, Hannah.’ I gave a shy smile in response. All the while, alarm bells went off in my head. I’m not here for this. How did I go from carefree, independent, sanity-securing Hannah earlier that morning to swoony Hannah in the clutches of a dreamy American hottie in a tux? Had I led him on? It was all George’s fault, with his Cinderella nonsense.
I rubbed the anchor on my bracelet, trying to centre myself enough to put a stop to whatever was going on. I didn’t want to float off down an unplanned river of hurt and anguish again. ‘It’s almost Christmas Day,’ he said, looking at his watch. My eyes met his, and before the words could form, he placed a soft, warm kiss on my lips. It was romantic, perfect. I froze as his hand brushed my thigh. I was rooted to the chair, not knowing what to do. It was a bad idea, a very bad idea. I pulled away.
‘I’m sorry, Pete, but this isn’t what I was expecting. I should go.’ I stood up, flustered and embarrassed, and turned to leave before he could protest. As I walked briskly away, I stumbled on my heel and my shoe flew off. It happened so quickly that it was already a few metres behind me before I realized. I couldn’t turn back for it because my exit would be ruined. All I could do was hope he hadn’t seen it and just collect it from lost property the following morning. The good thing about cruise ships was that they’re generally full of people with good intentions.
Back in my cabin, I didn’t have the energy to climb to my bunk so instead, slumped face down onto Kristy’s, letting out a huge groan as I did. I rolled over and spotted a Post-it stuck to the mirror, saying ‘Gone to the Ball. K x’. It was strange I hadn’t seen her there but hoped it meant I’d be alone for a while.
A few minutes later there was a knock at the door. I was tempted to ignore it, but it was usually something important such as maintenance, housekeeping, or a message delivery, so I dragged my
self over to the heavy door and yanked it open to see Pete leaning casually on the frame. ‘Very funny, Cinderella.’ He held up my discarded shoe with his index finger. I almost died of embarrassment.
‘Oh God, no – that wasn’t why I left it,’ I tried, realizing quickly that protesting made it worse. He tilted his head to the side and regarded me with amused scepticism. ‘Oh come in,’ I said in defeat.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘For kissing you that is, and for mocking your fairy-tale re-enactment – that was actually pretty cool and almost looked accidental.’
‘It was an accident!’ I protested. ‘And it’s okay. I just wasn’t expecting a kiss. I’m still married,’ I said, knowing full well that didn’t matter as the marriage was due to end at any time, if it hadn’t already. I sat on the bottom bunk, and he flopped down next to me.
‘I wasn’t expecting it either; I just got caught up in the moment. I know you’re not here for a relationship, so I’m sorry, again.’ He sighed. ‘I do like you. You’re gorgeous and easy to talk to and I’ve always had a thing for older women.’
I elbowed him in the ribs. ‘Less of the older.’
‘I was paying you a compliment! Anyway, since meeting Brit, I’ve come to like her. She just never seems to notice me.’
I was relieved to hear he liked someone else. It would make things less awkward for our friendship – I liked Pete and he was fast becoming one of my closer friends aboard the ship.
‘She likes you too,’ I said, resting my head on his shoulder, slightly gobsmacked he hadn’t picked up on it.
‘She’s got a funny way of showing it.’ He put his arm around my shoulders and gave me a friendly squeeze. ‘You make a great single person, you know. You’re stronger than you think – you resisted this for a start.’ He gestured to himself, laughing. I laughed too, glad the awkwardness had gone.
The Holiday Cruise Page 8
