The Holiday Cruise

by Victoria Cooke

  ‘I suppose I’ll give you seven out of ten for kissing, and your wooing was pretty good too. You can have eight for that.’ I jabbed him playfully.

  ‘Wooing?’

  ‘Romancing, pulling. I don’t know what you call it in America.’

  ‘Ahh.’ He smiled and nodded. ‘Good. But only seven for the kissing, huh? Tough crowd.’

  I smiled. ‘That aside, you’re far too good-looking for me. I need a more normal-looking guy. I need to feel like the pretty one, thank you very much,’ I teased. ‘Britney’s just … She’s not as self-assured as you might think but she does like you.’

  ‘We’ll see.’ He stood up and walked to the door. ‘I’m sorry, again.’ He bowed. ‘Goodnight, Cinderella.’

  I rolled my eyes. ‘Goodnight, Pete.’

  Chapter Seven

  Christmas day was a sea day, so the ship was full and buzzing with excitement. There was a carol concert in the morning, and there were Christmas trees everywhere, decorated with bows and twinkly lights. The spa was closed, so we had a free day. Because I’d refused to let Jen get me a Christmas present, and none of us on board had gotten around to organizing a secret Santa or anything, I didn’t have one present to open.

  I actually felt relieved. Relieved I didn’t have to pretend to like something I didn’t, relieved I didn’t have to sit wishing a gift from Jen was actually from Daniel, and relieved I didn’t have to pretend to feel all warm and fuzzy about Christmas when I didn’t. The charm bracelet I got myself was the perfect gift, from the person I was there to think about most. Me.

  I spent the morning sunbathing up on the crew deck with Pete, and Kristy who hadn’t come back to the cabin at all the previous night. I really wanted to quiz her about it but not in front of Pete, so instead, I just enjoyed the feel of the hot sun and cool breeze on my skin. Christmas had shaped up better than I’d planned and I even managed to stick to my vow and avoided thinking about Daniel. Actually, avoided is probably the wrong word – I just didn’t think about him. It was unconscious and for once, as I lay on that lounger, my mind was completely empty. It was empty of hurt, empty of what-ifs, empty of worry, and empty of self-worthlessness. To think and feel nothing was the best Christmas present I could’ve asked for.

  By mid-afternoon, I was baked and excused myself before heading back to my cabin. The air conditioning cooled my hot skin as I sat at the desk and booted up my laptop. As much as I’d wanted to ignore Christmas, I couldn’t avoid talking to Jen on Christmas day.

  As Skype connected, the sound of laughter came through before the image of Jen appeared on the screen. ‘Look at you.’ She squealed when the picture cleared. ‘All tanned and summery-looking on Christmas day.’ She smiled.

  ‘I know, not my usual Christmas attire. You’re looking very festive.’ I smiled back. She was dressed in a navy blue, novelty Christmas jumper, with huge snowflakes all over and a picture of Rudolph on the front. It was odd to think of the winter chill back in the village whilst heat was still rising off my skin.

  We chatted about how the day had gone so far, and she showed off some diamond earrings that Graham had bought her during a business trip to Dubai and she showed me what was left of their Christmas turkey.

  ‘That’s huge!’ I don’t know why I was surprised, as every year she’d buy the biggest one she could find just to make sure she didn’t run out.

  ‘I know, I know but this year, we have guests.’ She panned round to the table so I could see Sheila and her husband, sipping an after-dinner tipple. They both waved.

  ‘You’re looking wonderful, love, much healthier,’ Sheila said, walking towards the screen for a better look.

  ‘Thank you, Sheila.’

  ‘I think this job is doing you the world of good, almost as effective as a hunky male escort,’ she whispered close to Jen’s laptop.

  ‘Hmm,’ Jen butted in, turning the screen back to herself. I laughed. ‘As long as you’re being careful and looking after yourself,’ she warned.

  ‘Oh, Jen, look.’ I could just about make out Shelia pointing at her screen and squinting. ‘You can see both of your chins from that angle.’ She chuckled. ‘Don’t listen to her; have fun,’ she said as Jen inspected her face as though the screen was a mirror.

  ‘I will, Sheila, thank you. And, Jen, don’t worry I’ve got my level three NVQ in shark wrestling now so tomorrow’s fight will be a breeze.’

  She didn’t reply, instead, I got the eyebrow raise. ‘Was that a joke?’ She smiled before her tone became softer. ‘It seems like you are doing well.’

  ‘I am.’ I beamed. ‘Merry Christmas, Jen.’

  ‘Merry Christmas.’

  When the call ended, I had a pang of homesickness, but although I missed them, I didn’t wish I was back there. Spending Christmas in the village without Daniel would’ve been too much. I knew I’d done the right thing in leaving.

  It dawned on me that there was one person on the ship who’d be feeling just as homesick.

  ‘Hey, George,’ I greeted him as I walked into the empty crew bar.

  ‘Hannah, why you not celebrating?’ He said with his usual cheer.

  ‘I’m doing a “light-touch” version of Christmas this year,’ I said. ‘How about you?’

  ‘I like to keep busy over the holidays. Being away from my family is one thing, thinking about it is another.’ He busied himself aligning glasses on the shelf.

  ‘Have a drink with me,’ I ordered. A minute later he’d placed two measures of rum on the bar.

  ‘Merry Christmas, Hannah.’ He raised his glass and drank the rum in one go.

  ‘Merry Christmas, George. I’ve just had a video chat with my sister. She worries!’ I said shaking my head.

  ‘Having someone who worries about you is a precious thing, Hannah.’

  ‘Have you managed to speak to your family today?’ I asked.

  ‘Not today.’ His eyes dropped to the bar momentarily before lifting again. ‘Christmas is a busy day in my house. I do have this though.’ He pulled a photo from his pocket of three beautiful women and four cute little girls all with the same wide smiles and bright teeth as George. ‘My women,’ he said with a smile that finally reached his eyes. ‘Anyway, enough about them. They can drive me mad next time I see them.’ He stuffed the picture back in his pocket. ‘How did your date with Pete go?’ he asked.

  ‘Ah yes, thanks for that!’ I exaggerated my sarcastic tone to ensure it didn’t go unnoticed.

  ‘You didn’t have a good time?’ he asked.

  ‘We did, but I’m not here to date men. I’m here to get over one and if last night confirmed anything, it’s that Pete’s a great guy and I’m not ready to meet one.’

  ***

  The festivities die down quite quickly on a cruise ship. Once the twenty-fifth had passed, there wasn’t any evidence of Christmas anywhere – not a tree or a string of tinsel to be seen. Boxing Day was just another working day. It was almost like a soft practice run, no build-up, no aftermath – just the day, which I survived without any notable damage. I felt strong.

  The reception area was quiet on the morning of New Year’s Eve and Agne had disappeared so I sat there in case we had a walk-in. Absentmindedly I stood before the mirror in reception looking at my face. As another year was about to pass there were more noticeable lines creeping across it. My forehead bore three fine creases in the centre and crow’s feet were visible by my eyes, even when my face was relaxed. I blamed Daniel, and the fact I was surrounded by younger people.

  The client sheet showed that Marion was quiet that day. She did all of the non-surgical aesthetic procedures like Botox and fillers. I tugged and rubbed at my face wondering if it was time for some help. Being in the beauty industry meant I’d come across the procedures a lot, and I’d always wondered if a bit of Botox might be worth a try. I picked up a leaflet, imagining Daniel’s face when I returned to Tinbury looking slimmer, tanned, and fresh-faced.

  ‘Hannah?’ Britney stood in reception in front o
f me.

  ‘Oh, hi,’ I said, instinctively stuffing the leaflet back on the counter. ‘Have you got an appointment?’ I asked, scanning the bookings sheet.

  ‘Yes, I’m in for a massage. The shows are taking their toll.’ She rolled her shoulders for effect.

  ‘Marion won’t be long,’ I said politely.

  She eyed me suspiciously before pointing at the leaflet. ‘You’re not …?’

  I shook my head, my cheeks flaming. ‘No, not at all. I was just intrigued by the before and after shots,’ I lied, trying to sound casual and not give away the fact I wanted to hide under a rock.

  She regarded me curiously. ‘Good, because you don’t need anything like that. You already look great. I’d have never guessed you were over thirty. Who knows what would happen if you messed about with your face like that – be happy with yourself.’ She gave me a small smile and I was too dumbstruck to reply.

  Luckily, Agne returned and asked Britney to fill out a waiver form before her appointment, leaving me slightly gobsmacked by Britney’s compliment. Perhaps she wasn’t as bad as Kristy thought. I pushed the idea of injections out of my mind. She was right – I wouldn’t know what the results would be like and actually, why should I put myself through that just to get a positive reaction from Daniel? I needed to be happy with myself.

  There were several guest events that we were welcome to join in on New Year’s Eve: there was a live orchestra, a Nineties night at the night club that looked fun, plus a midnight countdown in the main atrium. However, I opted for the crew bar. After talking to passengers all day, I just wanted to be somewhere I didn’t have to make small talk and ask people about what they got up to in Nassau. There were only so many stories about duty-free diamonds one could listen to.

  As I entered I spotted Britney and Zac sitting together, both dressed to the nines. Britney was in a tiny red bodycon dress, and her hair had been blown out and hung loosely down to her waist. Zac had on skinny black jeans and a silver and grey sequinned T-shirt. They both smiled broadly as I glanced over, and Britney made a small gesture that I took to mean ‘come and sit with us’. I looked at George curiously, who just shrugged and carried on polishing glasses.

  I went over, and they both said hi. I sat down apprehensively, whilst racking my brains for things I might be able to talk to these young, beautiful Americans about. ‘Hi. You look gorgeous,’ I said to Britney without thinking.

  ‘Thank you.’ She tilted her head to the side, accepting the compliment graciously. I was in awe of her; I’d never been able to take a compliment, as demonstrated earlier. ‘You can borrow the dress any time you like,’ she said. It was sweet of her to offer, but there wasn’t a chance I’d manage to squeeze myself into that.

  ‘Anyway, we were just talking about Zac and how depressed he is about being single,’ she continued, bringing me into their conversation. ‘Well, not depressed about being single, just unhappy that the guy he likes hasn’t noticed him.’

  ‘Ahh, well, we’ve all been there,’ I said, glad of a topic.

  ‘She …’ he glared at Britney ‘… is just making a big deal out of it.’

  ‘Oh come on, all I hear about is Marcel. You either need to make something happen, or find someone else. There must be some other gay guys to have some fun with,’ Britney said. ‘Or even some straight ones.’ She winked, raising a smirk from Zac. Britney was beginning to remind me of a younger Jen – a fixer, the type of person who wanted to help everyone. She patted Zac on the back. ‘You don’t do yourself any favours though.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well you spent your first two weeks on a mission to sleep in someone else’s bed each night,’ she said. Now things were coming out. Zac just smirked. ‘Maybe Marcel doesn’t want a man-whore. We’ll find you someone else, someone new who doesn’t know about your brief past.’

  ‘She’s right,’ I said, knowing what a relief it was to be around people who didn’t know your past. ‘What about you?’ I asked Britney. ‘Are you happy being single?’

  ‘Oh, I’ve got my eye on someone and I’ll be with them soon,’ she said with a confidence I could only wish to have. I made a mental note to try and absorb as much of it as possible from her.

  ‘Hey, we’re going to hit the club before the countdown. You wanna come?’ Zac asked. I didn’t, but it was kind of him to invite me. I made my excuses and told them I’d see them at the countdown. Kristy came in just as they were about to leave.

  ‘What are you doing sitting with them?’ she asked coldly.

  ‘I think I’m their new friend,’ I said. ‘They’re actually really nice. You’d like them both.’ She gave me a doubtful look.

  Pete walked in, dressed in smart jeans and a tight fitting T-shirt, his hair still damp from the shower. He looked as gorgeous as ever and smelt all citrusy and delicious – Britney certainly wouldn’t be able to resist, assuming he was who she was talking about.

  ‘Hi, ladies, are you coming to the club tonight? Nineties night – it should rock.’ He was obviously raring to go. Kristy looked to me for an answer.

  ‘You should go,’ I said to her. ‘I went clubbing in the actual Nineties, so I’ll sit this one out.’ Not that I’d done much. I’d only been of legal age a few months before my parents were killed and didn’t go out at all afterwards. I was missing Jen and really wanted to speak to her before it got too late – I hadn’t spoken to her since Christmas Day. Kristy looked at me cautiously; she knew she’d be stuck with Britney, Zac, and the others. ‘It’ll be okay. I’ll meet you in the atrium at ten to twelve. Just tell them you’re my friend.’ I winked, reading her thoughts.

  I went back to the cabin and switched on my laptop. I’d missed midnight back home, but figured Jen might still be up celebrating, so I called her on Skype.

  ‘Hannah!’ she screamed, waving her champagne flute in the air. ‘Happy New Year!’

  ‘Happy New Year to you too,’ I said with a smile. ‘Though it’s not midnight here yet, so I hope that isn’t bad luck.’

  She shrugged. ‘We can celebrate again in a few hours. So what exotic locations have you been to so this week?’ She took a sip of her drink.

  ‘We’ve been at sea today but were in the Bahamas the other day.’ I grinned, knowing she’d be completely envious.

  ‘Oh, that sounds so lovely.’ She placed her elbows on the table in front of her, resting her head sideways. ‘It’s blowing a gale here. Storm Agatha as they’re calling it has begun to descend upon us – it’s the first one of the year.’

  ‘We have a gentle breeze, and it did drop to sixty-five degrees the other night,’ I teased. I missed Jen and our banter. Seeing her face made me feel a little homesick again, which was silly because I’d only been gone three weeks. ‘It sounds busy at your house. Are you having a party?’ I felt like I was shouting over chatter and background music.

  ‘Yes, just a little gathering.’ Her face took up most of the screen but, looking behind her, I could see the trunks of people from their waist to their knees. It looked like more than a little gathering. Jen lived in a huge farmhouse on the outskirts of town; it was a great place for a party.

  ‘Who’ve you got over?’ A pang of longing hit me. A night in the cosy village, drinking wine before Jen’s open fire for just one night would be so lovely.

  ‘Pretty much most of the village actually. Even Tom’s here,’ she added in an OTT stage whisper. ‘Tom, Tom,’ she shouted over the top of the screen. ‘Come and say hi to Hannah. We were just talking about you.’

  ‘No we weren’t,’ I murmured through gritted teeth.

  Tom’s face appeared on the screen. ‘Er, hello,’ he said awkwardly.

  ‘Hi, Tom.’ My mind was blank. Thanks, Jen.

  ‘I had three five-star reviews on TripAdvisor from guests who used your spa services.’ His expression remained blank as he spoke.

  ‘Oh, that’s good news. Thanks for letting me know,’ I said cheerfully.

  ‘But then you left me in the lu
rch and now several people have written complaints about advertised services being cancelled.’ His face reddened. I panicked. I had given him plenty of notice but I supposed that didn’t help when people had already booked.

  ‘There are some smoked salmon and cream cheese crackers over there,’ Jen cut in, placing her hands on Tom’s shoulders and guiding him away.

  He disappeared and Jen came back on the screen. I glared at her.

  ‘What?’ she protested. I could hear a voice in the background.

  ‘Oh, Hannah, you look so well – I still can’t get over it.’ It was Sheila, her dress covered in sequins.

  ‘Hello, Sheila.’

  ‘Hello, love. Have you met a Caribbean hunk yet?’ she asked, eyes glinting.

  ‘Sorry to disappoint you, but I haven’t unfortunately. I’m too busy working to even notice hunks,’ I lied.

  ‘Get yourself a man and have some fun.’ She prodded at the screen before wandering off. A flash of leopard print in the background caught my attention. Bloody hell. It was Cherry, chatting with Amy and Jess.

  ‘Jen!’ I hissed at the screen. She looked over her shoulder and when she looked back at the screen, her cheeks were flushed; she knew what I was about to ask.

  ‘I couldn’t leave her out,’ she said defensively.

  ‘For God’s sake, Jen! What about sisterly loyalty?’ She couldn’t make eye contact. As I was planning on berating her, a familiar face appeared over her shoulder.

  ‘To the New Year, Hannah.’ Cherry’s big ruddy face filled the screen. ‘Looks like it’s all worked out for you now, love. See, no harm done in the end.’ She smiled smarmily before swigging her champagne. I thought about pointing out I was only on a nine-month contract, and still had to pick up the pieces when I came home, but I felt strong enough to furnish her with a more dignified response.

  ‘You too,’ I said. It was dignified, not clever or well articulated.