Bon Voyage

by Michelle Betham

  Marcie put a hand to her forehead, attempting a mock-faint as Engelbert started fanning her like a maniac, shouting to a passing waiter to bring a glass of water. Aimee just rolled her eyes, pushing her chair back and going over to her mother, kissing her quickly on her cheek as Marcie “came round”, clinging onto Engelbert’s hand.

  ‘Oh, Aimee, pet, you don’t half give your poor mother some shocks.’

  ‘Is she alright?’ The waiter appeared with a glass of cold water, a look of concern on his face.

  ‘She’s fine,’ Aimee replied, giving him a reassuring smile. ‘She’s just not used to the heat. Thank you, for the water.’

  ‘Are you sure you know what you’re doing?’ Marcie asked, taking a sip of water as Engelbert held the glass to her lips. Sometimes Aimee thought her mother actually lived inside one of her own novels.

  ‘I know exactly what I’m doing, Mam.’

  Now, if she could only feel as confident as she’d managed to sound just there, then maybe she could actually begin to believe that.

  8:15pm

  Aimee watched as Robbie demolished his steak and chips, completely ignoring the salad on the side. Looked like he certainly approved of the food here on the ship, although her own appetite left a lot to be desired at the minute.

  ‘You not hungry?’ Robbie asked, pointing to her barely-touched lamb chops.

  ‘No. Not really,’ Aimee replied, looking around the packed Fontana Restaurant, the constant buzz of chatter and the clatter of cutlery filling the air.

  ‘It’s all the excitement, I guess,’ Robbie said, shoving another piece of medium rare meat into his mouth. ‘Us getting back together, I mean. It’s kind of knocked me for six too.’

  It obviously hasn’t affected your appetite, Aimee thought as she watched him add a forkful of chips to the steak he was already chewing.

  ‘Your mam’s not too keen on me being here though,’ Robbie commented, tearing off a piece of bread roll to mop up the sauce left on his plate.

  ‘She’ll come round,’ Aimee sighed, pushing her lamp chops around the plate, trying to make it look as though she’d at least tried to eat something. ‘You know my mother. Anyway, she’s got her own love life to keep her occupied, what with this ridiculous engagement to Ricardo.’

  ‘Ricardo?’ Robbie asked, a confused expression on his face. ‘I thought his name was Engelbert?’

  ‘His name is not frigging Engelbert,’ Aimee said, a slightly exasperated tone to her voice. ‘I swear, my mother will believe anything.’

  ‘Is she serious then? About getting married to this guy?’

  ‘She thinks she is, but it’s not gonna happen. Not if I’ve got anything to do with it anyway. But I’ll let her have her little cruise romance, you never know, she might get some inspiration from it.’ Aimee noticed Jemma totter into the restaurant, looking slightly unsteady on her feet in heels the like of which Aimee knew she could never wear without an impending accident looming. She waved at Jemma, beckoning at her to come over.

  ‘She’s not joining us, is she?’ Robbie asked through a mouthful of bread roll.

  ‘No. I just want to say hello, that’s all. This is supposed to be our holiday after all, and I feel a bit guilty leaving her on her own now you’re here.’

  ‘She’s occupied with that Cal Connor bloke, isn’t she?’

  ‘Not all the time she isn’t… Jemma! Over here!’

  Jemma reached the table and clung onto the back of Aimee’s chair to steady herself. ‘Christ! These shoes! I got them in Palma yesterday, and they might look fantastic but they’re a frigging bugger to walk in! Still, the price we women pay to look good.’ She looked from Aimee to Robbie, then back at Aimee. ‘Everything okay?’

  ‘Why wouldn’t it be?’ Robbie asked, narrowing his eyes.

  Jemma fixed him with a look. ‘No reason. Is there?’

  Aimee quickly decided to change the subject. ‘What’s going on entertainment-wise on board tonight? Any idea? I haven’t looked at the Cruise News today.’

  ‘Oh, I have,’ Jemma smiled. ‘I had a good look through it when I was round the pool this afternoon, although the sparkling line-up on offer is hardly likely to have Las Vegas quaking in its boots. Let me give you the run-down. In the Vegas Show Lounge after 10pm we have Angelo Martino, legendary club singer – although, according to Cal, the only place he’s ever been legendary is Doncaster – with his homage to the 1970’s. Apparently, he does a cracking version of Tie a Yellow Ribbon Round the Old Oak Tree and by all accounts his Season’s in the Sun had them waving their arms in the air and crying into their hankies three Tuesday’s ago. It’s karaoke night in The Pub – Bob and Barbara are threatening to do their version of Sonny & Cher’s I Got You, Babe and I’ve also heard a rumour that your mam is planning to do her own unique take on Doris Day’s Que Sera, Sera so that’s guaranteed to bring the house down. Revival is having an 80’s School Disco night – I dread to think, but that’ll no doubt attract a full quota of the Barmy Bon Voyage Brigade due to their love of anything cheesy. I’ve already seen half a dozen of them in the Lido Café wearing school uniforms and singing Wham! songs. However, I’ve been reliably informed that the act to watch out for tonight is on in the Vegas Show Lounge before Angelo Martino’s set. Somebody called Clint Fontane, Stockport’s leading Psychic. Apparently. According to half the entertainment team he almost caused a riot a fortnight ago when he started a fight between somebody called Ted from the spirit world and a bloke called Darren from Dagenham who’d only come into the Show Lounge to look for his wife and ended up being hounded from the “other side” by somebody he still owed £50 to from a bet he lost back in 1994. Apparently, it had to be seen to be believed… The Captain wanted to offload him in Livorno but the passengers threatened to revolt. Said it was the funniest thing they’d seen in decades.’

  Aimee just stared at Jemma. ‘How do you manage to retain so much useless information?’

  ‘It’s a talent,’ Jemma winked. ‘Right, I’m off to find Cal. We’re supposed to be grabbing something to eat before we go and watch Clint Fontane and his amazing psychic powers. Catch you guys later!’

  ‘Yeah. Later,’ Aimee smiled, watching as Jemma tottered off. ‘What’s up with your face?’ she asked Robbie as he looked at her, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

  ‘Is she for real?’

  ‘She’s my best friend, and I love her,’ Aimee replied, ignoring his tone of voice. Robbie was very much aware that Jemma – as well as a fair few other people – were more than slightly wary of him appearing back in Aimee’s life after everything that had happened, but what else did he expect?

  Robbie threw his napkin to one side, reaching out for Aimee’s hand, looking right into her eyes. ‘And, do you love me, Aimee?’

  She wasn’t sure she could answer that one straightaway because, even though she thought she still loved him, telling him so wasn’t something that was coming that easy to her.

  ‘Aimee? Come on, babe, you’re leaving me hanging here. I asked you a question, kidda. Do you still love me?’

  She inwardly took a deep breath, smiling as she clung onto his hand. ‘Yeah. Yeah, I still love you.’

  His face broke into a smile too, making Aimee realise what a truly good-looking bloke he really was with his tanned skin and his goatee beard, and those gorgeous dark eyes of his. She was lucky to have him, really. Lucky that he still wanted her. Lucky that he hadn’t found somebody else in the two months since he’d walked out on her because she knew only too well that there’d always been a queue of women waiting to get their hands on Robbie Cartwright. So she should be grateful that he’d come back to her, shouldn’t she? Grateful that this handsome, sexy man was still hers.

  ‘And you know I love you, babe,’ Robbie smiled, squeezing her hand and leaning over to kiss her quickly, a kiss that sent Aimee’s heart skipping around her chest in a happy little dance. She loved that kiss, and she’d missed it like crazy when it suddenly hadn’t been there anymore. Now she had
it back and it still felt the same as it always had done. Sort of. ‘Okay, I’m just nipping to the loo,’ Robbie said, letting go of Aimee as he pushed his chair back. ‘It’s all that beer I’ve been putting away today. It goes right through me.’

  Aimee watched him as he walked away from her, more than a few female heads turning as he walked past them and she couldn’t help but feel just a tiny bit smug about that, because he was hers again, wasn’t he? Robbie Cartwright, Whitley Bay’s most eligible and sought-after bachelor was hers – again. So surely, this time, she needed to hold onto him just that little bit tighter. Make sure he was going nowhere, ever again.

  Reaching into her handbag she pulled out her compact and quickly dusted some powder over her forehead and nose. There was nothing worse than a shiny forehead, as Jemma always said, and the heat and humidity that was almost constant when you were away from the air-conditioned areas did nothing to combat that.

  Hanging her bag back over the arm of her chair, Aimee felt a little frisson of excitement flutter through her, a tiny glimmer of anticipation at just what the future might hold now that Robbie was back. Was she finally going to get that happy ending she’d always dreamt about having with him? But not the dream that involved her Spanish finca with the chickens and the pool and the sunshine. Not the dream she’d told Danny about that afternoon in Barcelona. Oh no. Robbie could never live abroad, he’d told her as much once during a holiday to Cyprus when Aimee had commented how wonderful it would be to have a little house in the sun with a lemon tree in the garden and all Robbie had done was snort and tell her that you could get plenty of lemons in Newcastle and he couldn’t live anywhere that couldn’t guarantee you saw Match of the Day every Saturday night. No, the dream she’d had about settling down with Robbie consisted of a little house close to North Shields quayside, a couple of kids, a dog; Robbie had always wanted a German Shepherd but Aimee was more your smaller dog person. She had her heart set on a West Highland Terrier – yeah, they’d get a little West Highland Terrier and they’d call him Angus. Sorted! Robbie was right. They didn’t need a house in the sun to be happy.

  It was while she was running this perfect scenario of the quayside house and the two point four children plus dog through in her head that she almost missed him walking into the restaurant, hand in hand with Davina, who looked about as far away from a shrinking violet as you could possibly get in an arse-skimming, tight tangerine-coloured dress – that clashed horrendously with her orange spray tan – and heels that were close to being impossibly high, her hair extensions piled up on top of her head in a huge, white-blond mass of curls. Danny, on the other hand, looked under-stated in comparison in jeans and a T-shirt, his dark hair unruly and messed-up. And, although she’d tried to look away, she really had, she couldn’t avoid her eyes meeting with his in a look that lasted just seconds, but those seconds had felt like hours to Aimee, those ice-blue eyes of his boring right through her, and for a fleeting moment she wished it was last week again, when she’d woken up every morning like an excited child, unable to believe that her favourite pop star, the man of her dreams, wanted to spend time with her – with her, Aimee Anderson, a girl who’d used to watch him from afar and could only imagine what it would be like to kiss him. But that’s all she was really, wasn’t it? Even though she now knew what it was like to kiss him – and so much more – she really was just another girl who’d used to watch him from afar. Just another fan.

  She broke the stare first and quickly turned away, grabbing her glass of wine and taking a good, long sip, closing her eyes as the cool clear liquid slipped down her throat. She wasn’t stupid enough to think she could have avoided him for the rest of the week, but she hadn’t really been prepared to see him just yet. Not yet. And she especially hadn’t been prepared to see him with Davina, to see him holding her hand, standing so close to her – when only yesterday that had been her. It had been her hand he’d been holding, her mouth he’d been kissing; her bed he’d been sleeping in. But he didn’t want her anymore, she’d been told that. He didn’t want her anymore, and she had to learn to deal with that and move on.

  ‘Everything okay?’ Robbie asked, slipping back into his seat opposite her.

  Aimee took another quick drink and smiled, reaching out to take his hand. ‘Yeah. Everything’s fine. Everything’s just fine.’ And it would be. She was sure of that. It would be. Eventually.

  *

  Danny sat down and immediately started scanning the restaurant, trying to locate where she’d been sitting. She wasn’t too far from the entrance, he’d known that, because he’d only just walked in when he’d noticed her. And she’d noticed him too, their eyes locking together for those few, brief seconds, although she’d broken the stare far sooner than he’d wanted her too. He’d wanted to keep on looking at her, to see if he could find anything in her face that would give him some hope that everything he’d heard and everything he’d been told – he’d wanted to see something that told him maybe, just maybe, not all of that had been true. But there hadn’t been time. She’d looked away before he’d had the chance to see anything other than her beautiful face. A face he hadn’t realised was quite so beautiful until it had become a face he wasn’t going to be all that close to anymore. And that hurt. More than Danny had thought it would. But she didn’t want him anymore, that’s what he’d been told. She didn’t want him anymore, how could she when she’d gone back to Robbie? So what was he supposed to do? If she was happy with Robbie then who was he to interfere with that? He just had to deal with it, move on, and try and get his own life back into some kind of order. And maybe the other lads were right. Maybe giving it another go with Davina was the right thing to do, at least he knew what he was getting into with her. Better the devil you know, and all that. Better the devil you know. So why did Danny have a niggling feeling in the back of his mind that he’d much rather face a devil he still wasn’t all that familiar with?

  CRUISE DAY 10

  Tangier – Morocco

  2:45pm

  ‘I’m really glad we decided to give the shore excursions a miss today,’ Robbie sighed, lying back on his sunlounger as the afternoon sun beat down on the pool deck, which was quieter than it had been during yesterday’s day at sea but that was only to be expected, with a good proportion of the ship’s passengers out making the most of what Tangier had to offer. But Aimee just hadn’t felt like it today. She’d wanted another day of sitting doing nothing, another day of lying in the sun; another day to think.

  Aimee kept her eyes closed because she still wasn’t really in the mood for conversation. She was enjoying the peace and tranquillity staying on board the ship when the majority of people were off it brought. Until she heard Brendon’s booming laugh echoing round the pool deck from the nearby Calypso Bar.

  ‘Is that all he does?’ Robbie asked, pushing himself up onto his elbow, shielding his eyes as he looked across the pool to the bar. Brendon was leaning against it, a pint of beer in one hand and a rolled up newspaper in the other, chatting animatedly to Bob, who’d also appeared to have given any shore excursions a miss today. ‘I mean, I’ve only been on this ship a couple of days but every time I’ve seen that bloke he’s been attached to one of the bars. Does he ever do anything else?’

  Aimee propped herself up on her elbows too, sliding her sunglasses down over her eyes. ‘Oh, yeah. He’s a bit of a culture vulture when he does leave the ship,’ Aimee said, a slight smirk on her face. ‘He’s become a real fountain of knowledge when it comes to the various watering holes around Italy, France and Spain.’

  Robbie looked at Aimee and smiled, a smile that could still melt Aimee’s heart, no matter how much she’d tried to pretend it couldn’t anymore. ‘Are you happy, Aimee?’

  What was with the insecurities all of a sudden? Robbie Cartwright had never usually been one to care about whether anyone else was happy or not, as long as he was. And she wasn’t altogether sure whether she liked this “new” Robbie. It was a touch unsettling, like being with a dif
ferent person all of a sudden.

  ‘Yeah. I’m happy.’

  ‘You could try saying that with a touch more conviction,’ Robbie said, looking out to sea.

  ‘What do you want me to say, Robbie? What do you want me to do? Do you want me to start turning cartwheels and dancing a happy jig just because you’ve suddenly turned up here? It was a shock, okay? And I’m still getting used to it.’

  He sat up, turning to face her, clasping his hands between his open knees. ‘I’m sorry, alright? Maybe I should have called before just appearing like this… Actually, I did call. A couple of times. But you were ignoring me, remember?’

  ‘With good reason,’ Aimee said, pulling her knees up to her chest. ‘But the last thing I ever expected was to see you here. To have you turn up like this, out of the blue. To have you say the things you’ve said to me. I mean, do you have any idea how much that’s confused the hell out of me? Do you?’

  He pushed a hand through his dark hair, looking down at the ground for a second. ‘Maybe it wasn’t the most sensible way to go about things, but I had to get you to listen to me, Aimee. I wanted you to understand how I really felt about you, after seeing those pictures of you and Danny.’

  Aimee sat forward, crossing her legs up underneath her. ‘Do you know what I really want to know though, Robbie? If you hadn’t seen those photos of me and Danny, would you still have wanted me back?’

  Robbie looked up at her, his eyes meeting hers, holding her stare. ‘I don’t know. I’m being honest here, Aimee, so I don’t know. Like I told you before, maybe it’s the sudden realisation that you never really know how much someone means to you until they’re not there anymore. And it took me seeing you with another man to realise how much you meant to me. How much you mean to me.’

  She cocked her head on one side, still looking right into his eyes. Could she believe him? He’d seemed nothing but genuine since he’d arrived on the ship, but there was just this niggling feeling at the back of her mind…