The Holiday Cruise

by Victoria Cooke

  She gave a small laugh. ‘Well you certainly are feistier than you were in Tinbury.’

  I felt guilty for snapping at her so gave her a bone to chew on. ‘I emailed him yesterday.’

  ‘Okay?’ She drew out the word.

  ‘He emailed back,’ I said quickly. ‘Just told me how his flight was and so on.’ I waved a hand through the air. ‘He said life was dull without me in it.’

  Jen pushed her neat eyebrows together. ‘Well that tells me it’s worth a try.’ She drew a breath. ‘You sent him a postcard from Venice today.’

  My eyes popped. ‘I did what?’ I placed my coffee down for fear of crushing the delicate china with my clutched hand.

  ‘Oh come on, how perfect? The place you first kissed. I was passing a postcard stand and got one to send to Shelia, then just had this idea of sending one to Ben – it’s so romantic.’

  ‘It’s not romantic if neither of us were involved. You’re a pain in the arse sometimes, Jen,’ I seethed.

  ‘I’m sorry, but I thought it was sweet and knew you wouldn’t do anything about it.’

  I sat back and crossed my arms. ‘What did I write?’

  ‘Just that you’d spent the evening in Venice after being thrown off the ship and how it reminded you of your first kiss. Nothing that he didn’t already say in his email – I wouldn’t worry.’

  ‘And how exactly did you have Ben’s address?’

  She sighed petulantly. ‘When you flung your bag on the desk the other day, it was right there. I took a photo of the piece of paper just in case you lost it, as a back-up.’

  ‘That’s a load of crap and you know it,’ I fumed, unable to look at her.

  ‘I’m sorry, but it’s really not that bad. I’m sure you’d have done it anyway,’ she said tentatively.

  ‘Can you not see why I don’t want to come home? If it’s not Daniel mothering me it’s you.’ A family on the next table turned to see what was going on, presumably because of my raised voice. Jen’s smile dropped as the colour drained from her face. I instantly regretted what I said. ‘Jen, I …’

  She held up a hand to stop me. ‘Save it.’ She got up and walked out, leaving her drink on the table. My face fell forwards into my hands. Even though she was the one in the wrong in the first place, I’d gone too far. The family on the next table couldn’t help but cast further glances my way. Part of me wanted to leave her to stew, but I didn’t. I wandered the hotel lobby, checked the pool area, and eventually went back up to our room. She was sat on the bed leaning forwards on her hands, staring out the window.

  I approached her slowly. ‘Jen,’ I said softly. She looked at me with reddened eyes. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful.’

  ‘When Mum and Dad died, I was all you had, and that got me through it, because you were all I had too. I felt the pain of losing them – I was only twenty-four – but you were just eighteen, Hannah; you hadn’t even left home and I stepped up.’

  ‘I know. I’m sorry,’ I whispered. But there was something I had to say, something I’d not been brave enough to say before. I took her hand. ‘You mean the world to me, Jen. I’ve always looked up to you but at some point, parents have to let go of their children, let them spread their wings – and so do sisters.’ I paused to wipe a tear that had snuck down my cheek. ‘Especially when said sister is in her mid-thirties and her feathers are turning grey.’ She laughed. ‘I’m sorry for shouting. I was just angry with you taking over when I’m capable of dealing with my own problems. I love you, but you shouldn’t have sent that postcard.’ I stuck to my guns.

  ‘I know. I didn’t think of it as a big deal. I just thought the poetry of it was too good an opportunity to miss. Seeing that photo of you both last night … I don’t know, it just looked like there was something there worth hanging on to. Maybe I got carried away in Venice too.’ She smiled.

  I tightened my lips. ‘Hmmm.’

  ‘Oh, come on?’ she said in lazy protest. ‘Graham is the least romantic bloke on Earth. Allow me this slither.’

  ‘Fine, but do not pull a stunt like that again,’ I warned.

  She grinned. ‘Fancy a drink?’ She was impossible to stay mad at.

  ‘Yes, but you’re paying. It’s bloody expensive in the real world outside of the crew bar.’

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  When we returned to the room I looked into transport to Barcelona, and hotels for once I got there. Trying to avoid checking my emails, I downloaded my flight confirmation and did the same for the cheap hotel I’d booked in Thailand and finally, checked on my bank account. I’d barely spent anything during my time on board so it was looking healthy thankfully – though the extra two week’s pay would’ve been handy. Once I’d taken care of all the ‘me’ things, I allowed myself to check my email. Something flipped in my chest when I saw the email from him.

  Hi Hannah,

  I didn’t make it to the pub last night – my mum accosted me with a Sunday lunch – so I’ve only just got your email – but it cheered me up when I did.

  Today is my first day back at work, and I can’t tell you how much I wish I was back on the ship with you.

  Or just with you.

  And perhaps a Yorkshire pudding.

  I can’t stop thinking about our last night together.

  Ben

  xxxxxx

  PS: Tell George he owes me a rum & Coke – I did win a key ring after all.

  My spine tingled at the mention of our last night together, but I felt a pang of guilt when I saw George’s name. Guilt for not saying goodbye and guilt for letting Ben think I was still on the ship.

  My phone shrilled, breaking my thoughts.

  ‘Kristy! Oh thank God,’ I screamed down the phone. Jen signalled she was going to take a shower and I nodded in response.

  She jumped straight in. ‘What the hell happened?’

  ‘They found out about Ben and marched me straight off the ship. I assume Marion reported me.’

  ‘She said it wasn’t her. She’d decided not to because she didn’t want to train up a rookie so close to the end of her contract, and she had a soft spot for Ben anyway. She just said someone had notified HR, and they were keeping an eye on you – she said she tried to warn you.’

  My shoulders sagged. To be honest, there were a hundred ways I could have been caught: the call to Ben’s room, the ship’s CCTV, or during our time ashore. ‘She did, but it was too late. I’m okay. My sister was in Venice to surprise me so I’m crashing at her hotel, putting a plan together. Had I known thirty minutes earlier, I could have tagged along with Pete.’

  ‘It’s shocking,’ she said. ‘So are you going to go home for a few weeks and catch up with Ben?’

  ‘No way, no. My plans are my plans and I can’t afford to spend the flight money. I’m in touch with him via email though.’

  She sighed. ‘Is that wise? Enjoying the last few days together is one thing, but if you want to make a clean break, don’t you think emailing one another will complicate things?’

  I slumped back in my chair. ‘Probably, but I can’t help it. We’ve decided to keep in touch, and who knows, maybe we’ll meet up when I get back from travelling.’

  ‘You have two weeks. I don’t know why you’re being so stubborn about it – guys like Ben are rare. Just go home,’ she practically yelled down the phone.

  ‘No!’ I’d already explained myself to Jen, so tried a different tack with Kristy. ‘I can’t afford to. I’ve lost two weeks’ pay, and now I’m having transport and accommodation to fork out for.’ It wasn’t a lie exactly.

  ‘Hmm, I suppose. But – you lost your job because you couldn’t stay away from him and now you’re letting a few quid keep you apart. It doesn’t make sense.’

  I supposed it didn’t. ‘My sister is here too,’ I tried. ‘I can’t just leave her.’

  ‘I guess. Oh no, it’s almost time for the sail-away. I feel awful that we’re leaving without you.’

  ‘I told you, it’s okay
. I’m going to miss you all! Tell Britney and Zac I miss them and I’ll send an email. And George, give George a huge hug from me. Tell him I send my love to him and his beautiful family. And you, take care of yourself!’ The thought of not saying goodbye to them all in person pained me.

  As Kristy hung up I refocused my attention on the screen. The emails from Ben felt good, so whatever she thought, I was going to reply and that was that. I had to tell him I’d been sacked since Jen had forced my hand.

  Hi Ben,

  Sorry to hear work has been busy. I’ve actually had quite a leisurely two days …

  I was sacked! Turns out our covert sneaking wasn’t quite far enough under the radar. Don’t worry though, I’m fine and everything is working out.

  I keep thinking of our last night too – I really miss sneaking around with you.

  Hannah

  xxxxxxx

  Once again, my mind wandered back to our time together. When I closed my eyes I could still smell his delicious scent. Feel his body on top of mine as he looked down at me with his big brown eyes. His unbuttoned shirt brushing gently against my skin.

  I didn’t know how long I sat there for, but when I looked around, Jen was asleep on the bed.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  ‘You’re going to be the most miserable traveller ever,’ Jen said after we’d both ordered tea in the extortionately priced café in St Mark’s Square. I ignored her. ‘How can you sit in such a beautiful city with a face like that? Your travel pictures are going to frighten small children’. She shook her head. ‘And don’t tell me it’s because of the drinks prices, because I’m paying. Still.’ She fixed her eyes on me, and when I didn’t bite, softened her tone.

  ‘Why not send him another postcard? I loved the one you sent me from Haiti and you know we have the same handwriting anyway, so he’ll be none the wiser.’ She was right about that. Jen and I had the exact same handwriting, as had my father. It drove my mother mad – she could never tell whether my dad had remembered Valentine’s Day or if one of us had bought and written the cards. We always told her it was our secret. Most of the time Dad had remembered but we’d stepped in a few times to help. My eyes moistened but I felt myself smile.

  ‘That’s better. So you like the postcard idea?’ she said.

  ‘I was just thinking about Mum and Dad.’ I didn’t need to explain. Jen pressed her lips together in empathy. ‘But shut up about the bloody postcard.’

  ‘Fine. So did you have any more on-board romances?’ she asked.

  I smirked.

  ‘You did, didn’t you?’

  ‘Maybe. There were a few kisses, and a one-night stand with a gorgeous Mexican waiter.’

  She gasped in mock shock. ‘Well, I didn’t expect that from you.’ She chuckled.

  ‘After a night of pole dancing and drinking shots off a man’s belly, it was a fitting end to the evening.’

  ‘You didn’t?’ Her eyes were wide. I nodded, grinning. It was fun to shock her.

  The waiter approached us as we’d finished so I asked for the bill. ‘Il conto per favore.’

  ‘And you’ve been picking up Italian phrases. That’s wonderful, Han.’

  ‘Non frasi. Sono quasi fluente.’ She gave me a puzzled look and I just smirked.

  ***

  ‘The black formal dress can go in the case,’ I shouted from the bathroom as I tried to whittle down my toiletries. Jen had agreed to take home all of the things I wouldn’t need on my travels. When I walked out, I assessed the piles of clothes on the bed. ‘Okay, all of these can go,’ I said, handing Jen my dressier garments.

  ‘I’ll keep my sandals and trainers. The rest of the shoes you can take.’ Once everything was organized and packed, Jen went to put my laptop in the case but I stopped her. ‘Just let me check my emails before we leave.’

  Hi Hannah,

  I’m so sorry. I feel terrible and it’s completely my fault for pestering you to join me. Please let me help you – I could ring your managers or book some accommodation for you.

  I miss you like crazy.

  How can I make this right?

  Ben

  xxxxx

  ‘I miss you like crazy.’ Jen was craning her neck trying to nosey at the screen.

  I batted her away. ‘Shoo.’

  ‘And were those kisses I saw at the bottom?’ I didn’t respond. ‘Wow.’

  ‘Whatever it is, don’t say it.’ I held my hand up, not wanting to hear a speech about going home and giving it a go.

  Concierge had given me the address of a shop not too far from Venice where I could get kitted out with a backpack and had gifted me a bin liner in the short-term since Jen would be taking my case. We called on the way to the airport and when we arrived there, I followed Jen into the check-in lounge.

  I turned to her as she was about to go through security. Her eyes had already filled up.

  ‘Oh, Jen, you weren’t this bad when I left to work on the ship. Why all this now?’ I asked.

  ‘Because I knew you needed to get away then. I stayed strong for you – if I’d have got upset, you’d have used it as an excuse to stay. Believe me, when you walked through the security gate I cried like a baby.’ She forced a smile through the tears.

  I fanned my face with my hands. ‘Now I’m getting upset,’ I said through a trembling, forced smile.

  ‘Don’t.’ She pulled me into a hug. ‘You go and see the world and post as many pictures as you can on Facebook. I’ll see you when you get back.’ Her voice shook and her nostrils flared.

  ‘I will.’ I sobbed. ‘Here, I almost forgot – I got you this, from the Rialto Bridge.’ I handed her the magnet I’d bought when I was there with Ben.

  She smiled and pulled me into a hug. I held her tightly. ‘I’ll miss you,’ I whispered in her ear.

  ‘You too,’ she said rubbing my back. ‘Now go – live your life.’

  I nodded. ‘Goodbye, Jen.’

  The journey back to Venice was sombre. I’d decided to stay another night, before taking the train to Barcelona with a few hostel stops on the way. There was one thing I’d promised myself I’d do in Venice, and now was my chance.

  My gondola moored outside Cavalletto & Doge Orseolo hotel opposite The Hard Rock Café and I stepped out, feeling like royalty, it was probably more than I should have spent but I felt I deserved it. Well, it was just for one night.

  After flinging my new backpack and my bin liner of belongings down on the bed, I took out my phone and connected to the hotel Wi-Fi.

  Hi Ben,

  Please don’t worry. It’s all for the best. I’ve treated myself to a night in that hotel opposite The Hard Rock Café, and thankfully, didn’t have to swim to the lobby.

  I’m actually looking forward to a mini backpacking trek over to Barcelona. I’m thinking of it as a practice run.

  It wasn’t your fault. I couldn’t keep away from you.

  I miss you.

  I wish you were here.

  H

  xxxxxx

  His reply came in almost straight away:

  Hannah, I’m glad everything is okay and I’m sorry, again. Please let me help in any way I can. It will be a welcome distraction from work and sorting out house and wedding stuff. I’m all moved in with my parents now and still feeling like a moody teenager.

  My mum said you’re very pretty. Embarrassingly, she’d unpacked my case and found Sandra’s photo.

  Don’t you think we’d make a good-looking couple? ;)

  I wish I was coming travelling with you.

  Ben

  xxxxxxx

  I laughed at the image of his mum unpacking his case and finding the photograph but as I reread the last line, ‘I wish I was coming travelling with you’, my heart skipped a beat. I wished it too.

  Hi Ben,

  I can’t believe you didn’t unpack your own case! I hope it wasn’t awkward when she found the picture. I have my picture in my bag and have to agree, we do make a good-looking couple. Hello! magazine
will be after that shot soon no doubt.

  Being home sounds miserable. You could always come with me

  I think I’ve fallen for you.

  I miss you.

  Hannah

  xxxxxxxx

  I lay down on the bed and tried to think practical thoughts, about my train journey, flights, and so on but all my mind could think about was Ben. It was stupid. He was home now, dealing with his life, and I was about to embark upon the adventure I’d been dreaming about for the past few months.

  But something was missing.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  By the time the train from Venice pulled into Dijon, I was tired, sweaty, and hungry. I’d spent a few nights in a hostel outside of Venice, trying to get on the direct train to Dijon, then stayed two nights there in a hostel before moving on to Montpellier for another two nights before arriving in Barcelona.

  My backpack was proving to be not only useful, but a good one. I’d opted for an Osprey Farpoint 55L, which wasn’t too big for my frame. I’d contemplated the larger 90L version anticipating purchases of exotic kaftans and such but having watched the film Wild thought the lighter option would be more sensible.

  All I’d done was think about Ben. The heavy feeling in my stomach remained and every time I thought of him, my chest ached. I’d tried to enjoy the journey, but something had been missing. The beautiful city of Dijon was lacking in silly wit. Montpellier didn’t have the chestnut eyes, to captivate me. The scenery from the train didn’t encapsulate me like the warmth of Ben’s firm body. I hoped I could move on soon, or Jen would be right: I would be the most miserable traveller ever.

  As I left the station, I spotted a sign that read ‘Correos’. I decided to humour Jen, and send Ben a postcard. She was right: there was something poetic about it. I chose one with La Rambla as the main picture. As I approached the counter, I saw the cashier holding out her hand. I paid for the card and a stamp before going outside into the sun.