‘Everything’s fine,’ Aimee replied. ‘Just got a lot on my mind, y’know? What with a wedding to organise and all that. A lot to do.’
Danny looked at her, also forcing a smile onto his face, his hands still dug deep in his pockets. ‘Yeah. I can imagine. Mine and Davina’s wedding wasn’t exactly a breeze to organise. Have you… have you got a date set yet or anything?’ It hurt to ask that question – more than he’d thought it would.
She shook her head, turning back to look at Robbie, who’d stopped talking into his phone now and was texting instead. ‘No. Not yet. We’ll probably wait until we get home.’ She looked at Danny again. ‘Sort something out then.’
‘I… I hear you’re having a bit of a party, on the ship. Tomorrow night. In the Clipper Bar, isn’t it? An engagement party.’
Aimee rolled her eyes – an involuntary reaction that she hadn’t actually meant to do, and it didn’t escape Danny’s notice. ‘You don’t exactly look thrilled by that prospect.’
‘It’s my mam’s idea, not mine. I hate being the centre of attention but my mother would quite happily use any situation she can to gain herself some extra publicity. So, a joint engagement party it is, although she’s living in cloud cuckoo… Oh, my God, I’m sorry! Here I am, wittering on about owt and nowt when you’ve just told me you’re not sure about Bon Voyage getting back together. Danny, I’m so sorry!’
He smiled again, shaking his head. ‘Don’t worry about it, kidda. Like you said, you’ve got a lot on your mind. This is just something I’ve got to deal with myself.’
‘Do you want to talk about it?’
Of course he wanted to talk about it. He wanted to tell her how – since any chance he’d had of being with her had disappeared – any enthusiasm he’d had left for Bon Voyage had gone out of the window. His heart just wasn’t in it. She’d given him the energy he’d needed to care about the band again, and without her, well, it just wasn’t happening. In truth, he didn’t really care about all that much. He just felt as though he was getting through every day on auto pilot, being directed into doing things he really couldn’t be bothered with anymore.
‘Aimee, I…’
He was stopped from saying anything else by the return of Robbie, who looked slightly panicked at the sight of Danny and Aimee together, especially after his conversation with Davina over breakfast. If she knew he’d let them get this close again she’d probably injure him quite severely. He had no doubt she was capable.
‘Sorry… sorry, babe. Work, y’know. Me own fault, I mean, I did just up and leave them in the lurch a bit, didn’t I? Danny, hi. How are you?’
‘Fine. Thanks,’ Danny replied, hoping he’d managed to hide the despondency he was feeling. He just wanted to get back to the boat now and hide under the duvet for a couple of hours, try and get his head together before the show tonight. He looked at Aimee again but she wasn’t looking back, she was busy staring at the ground, quite obviously not wanting to look at him. Well, what did he expect? She was in love. And it wasn’t with him. He just had to get on with it. ‘Anyway, I’d better leave you to it,’ he said, forcing one last smile and this time Aimee’s eyes briefly met his, a look passing between them that both confused him, and yet also gave him a glimmer of hope. ‘I’d better get back to the rest of them.’
‘You might have to wrestle Cal away from Jemma,’ Aimee said, trying to smile back at him. ‘She can be quite difficult to prise off something she’s really keen on.’
‘I know how she feels,’ Danny said, staring right into her eyes, determined to hold her gaze for a few seconds longer. ‘Maybe see you back on board, eh?’
‘Maybe,’ she whispered, watching as he walked away, slowly at first, then picking up the pace to a run as he approached Jemma and Cal, jumping on Cal’s back, causing all three of them to laugh out loud. And just watching that play out in front of her almost broke Aimee’s heart. Why had she had to see Danny this afternoon? All it had done was ruin the mood.
‘What’s he doing here?’ Robbie asked, checking his phone again.
‘They’re filming… Robbie, what the hell is going on with you and that bloody phone?’
He looked up at her, slightly taken aback by her reaction. ‘Jesus, Aimee, chill out will you? I’m putting it away, okay?’
She just stared at him, looking briefly over towards Cal, Danny and Jemma again, who were all still laughing over something as Andy, Ross and Frankie joined them, at which point Robbie grabbed her hand and dragged her away, out of sight of Andy Crabtree. The last thing he needed was him on his back as well as Davina.
‘Robbie! What are you playing at?’
He swung her round, into his arms, kissing her hard, taking her very much by surprise.
‘Jesus, Robbie! What’s the matter with you this afternoon? You’re acting really strange.’
‘Am I? How’s kissing my gorgeous fiancée acting strange?’
‘I don’t mean that. I mean, since you got that phone call. And the phone call on the coach. Why the sudden rush of calls from work – why now? They didn’t bother you the first couple of days you were here.’
‘Can we stop talking about work and Danny Johnson…’
‘I wasn’t talking about Danny Johnson. Robbie…’
He kissed her again, determined to shut her up, stop her talking about anything that could mean he dropped himself right in it. Because Davina and Andy would just love that one.
‘We need to set a date, Aimee. Soon. Me and you, we need to start planning this wedding of ours. Agreed?’
Aimee looked at him through slightly narrowed eyes. What was wrong with him this afternoon? He was more jumpy and on edge than she’d ever seen him, and he was supposed to be on holiday – relaxed and calm. He certainly wasn’t displaying signs of relaxation and calm from where she was standing.
‘Yeah. Okay.’
‘Okay? Is that all you can say?’
Yeah. It was all she could say. Because suddenly, the idea of marrying Robbie Cartwright just didn’t seem like a good one anymore.
8:15pm
‘Is it not just nerves, lass,’ Bob said, putting a pint down in front of him and handing Aimee the vodka and coke she’d asked for.
‘Oh, Bob. I really don’t know anymore. My head’s all over the bloody place. Everything just feels so confused now.’
She’d managed to escape a rather excruciating dinner with her mother and Engelbert – who’d spent the entire time laughing at some in-joke or other and holding hands like a pair of middle-aged teenagers – by complaining of a headache, saying she needed to go back to the cabin to lie down for a little while. Robbie had wanted to go with her but she’d needed to get away for a bit, away from him, to think about things. He could make his own excuses as far as escaping the dinner-from-hell was concerned.
So, Aimee had tracked down Bob having a sneaky fag out on deck, told him she needed to talk, and here they were, in The Pub – talking. Barbara was playing Bingo in the Clipper Bar and Aimee just hoped that when Robbie did eventually make his escape – which he would, if he was sensible enough – he didn’t escape here, to The Pub. She wasn’t in the mood to make up explanations.
‘You’ve seen the other fella, ‘aven’t you?’ Bob asked, taking a long drink of his beer.
Aimee looked at him. ‘Did Jemma tell you?’
Bob shook his head, placing his pint back down on the table. ‘Nobody told me, lass. I can see it in your face.’
‘Oh, God. Am I that transparent?’
Bob leaned forward, looking right at her. ‘I told you to take the right path, didn’t I?’
‘Yes. But I don’t really know what that means, Bob.’
‘Of course you do. You’re an intelligent lass, you know right from wrong.’
‘Bob, what are you talking about?’
He sat back in his seat, looking briefly up at the giant TV screen on the wall opposite which was showing a darts tournament from Düsseldorf.
‘You know what I’m talki
ng about.’ He turned back to face her. ‘All this drivel people keep saying about following your ‘ead, not your heart… bollocks to that!’ He leaned forward again, looking her right in the eye. ‘You listen to ‘ow you really feel, okay? And I mean, ‘ow you really feel. Don’t listen to them that tell you something’s probably for the best and anything else just wouldn’t ‘ave worked – you listen to none of that. The only thing you ‘ave to listen to is this…’ He put a hand on his chest, resting over his heart. ‘You listen to this, and nowt else. And then you fight for what you really want, and even if you don’t get it, at least you can say you tried rather than spending the rest of your life wondering “what if”.’
She couldn’t help but stare at him. For a middle-aged bloke from Barnsley he was certainly a lot wiser than appearances may lead people to believe.
‘Okay,’ she whispered, still staring at Bob. ‘I think I know what you’re getting at now.’
‘Good,’ he said, picking up his pint and taking another long drink from it. ‘You’d better finish that vodka then and get yourself over to the Show Lounge sharpish, ‘adn’t you?’
She smiled, so glad she’d had this chat, because suddenly everything she’d thought was clear – well, it just wasn’t anymore. But a lot of other things were.
*
‘Dinner with Cal was amazing!’ Jemma gushed as she and Aimee took their seats in the Vegas Show Lounge for the penultimate Bon Voyage cruise gig, the Barmy Bon Voyager’s all seated in a huddle to their left at their pushed-together tables, scarves already being waved in the air before the lights had even dimmed, chants of “We love Bon Voyage”, “Danny! Andy! We love you!”, and assorted other comments – not all of them clean – clearly audible above the sound of Tony Christie asking Is This The Way To Amarillo?
‘Amazing, how?’ Aimee asked, wondering if she should have told Robbie she was feeling better now. Where was he anyway? She hadn’t seen him since dinner. Mind you, he could have text her, couldn’t he? If he’d been that concerned.
‘Amazing as in, well, oh, God, I can’t explain it, Aimee. I’ve just never felt this way before. And he’s quite romantic, really. Pulled my chair out for me in the restaurant and everything. There were loads of women looking at us too, dead jealous they were, because none of them were with anyone as drop-dead-gorgeous as Cal.’
‘I’m glad you’re happy, Jemma. I’m glad it’s working out for you and Cal.’
‘Thanks, hon. I just wish you and Danny could have worked it out too.’
Aimee couldn’t help but smile, taking a sip of her cocktail. ‘Well, who knows what might happen. I mean, we’re not at the end of this cruise just yet, are we?’
‘Huh? What are you…? Is there trouble in paradise between you and Robbie the Rat?’
‘Once again, you don’t have to sound quite so hopeful, Jem. Actually, have you seen him lately? I left him in the restaurant with my mam and Ricardo and I haven’t seen or heard from him since.’
‘He’s in the casino. Didn’t you know? I saw him at the Blackjack table on my way here. Looked like he was on a winning streak too, he certainly looked happy.’
‘Frigging bastard! He could have let me know. And there’s me worrying that I should have told him where I was.’
Jemma looked confused. ‘Aimee, what are you wittering on about?’
Aimee took another sip of her drink as the lights dimmed and the dry ice once again flooded the stage, the strains of Bon Voyage’s 1995 summer hit, Beach Baby Girl, filling the Vegas Show Lounge.
‘Nothing,’ Aimee smiled, watching as Danny Johnson stepped out of the dry ice dressed in black and white, looking sexy and handsome, those ice-blue eyes of his prominent and piercing. ‘It’s really nothing.’ But even Aimee knew it was much more than that. It was everything. And tomorrow, that fight that Bob had been talking about, that would begin. In a way Robbie Cartwright probably wasn’t prepared for.
CRUISE DAY 14
Cartagena, Spain.
8:15am
‘Oh, Aimee, darling, I’m so glad I’ve caught you,’ Marcie sing-songed, weaving her way through the busy breakfast traffic in the Lido Café towards Aimee’s favourite window table. ‘We have things to discuss before tonight’s engagement party.’
‘We do?’ Aimee asked, watching her mother as she sat down opposite her, resplendent in a canary yellow kaftan and matching wide-brimmed hat, her bracelets jangling, echoing loudly above the already noisy café, drawing attention towards their table.
‘Of course we do, dear,’ Marcie replied, looking at her daughter as though she was stupid. ‘Now, Engelbert’s got the food sorted – I must say, they’ve been very good here, allowing us to have this little party and giving us a mini-buffet all of our own, sausage rolls and everything – oh, and we’ve even managed to steal Raymond from Revival for a couple of hours.’
‘Raymond?’ Aimee asked, more confused than ever now.
‘Yes, darling. Raymond. The DJ from the nightclub.’
Was she supposed to know who Raymond was? She’d never spent more than ten minutes in Revival, due to it having been taken over on this cruise by the Barmy Bon Voyager’s. The prospect of spending any longer in there had always been too nerve-wracking an experience to even contemplate.
‘Okay.’
Marcie fixed her daughter with a stern look. ‘You could try and sound a little more enthusiastic, Aimee. This is your engagement party as well as mine. And considering the way I feel about that Robbie Cartwright…’
Aimee sat back in her seat, wiping her mouth with a napkin to get rid of any croissant crumbs. ‘Actually, while we’re on the subject of not being over-happy with each others’ partners, you and Ricardo…’
‘Aimee!’ Marcie sighed, fanning herself with a handkerchief, reclining back in her chair. ‘Will you please stop calling him that. You know what his name is so please address him as such.’
Aimee looked at her mother. She was well aware that she had a vivid imagination, but surely even she could see that Engelbert wasn’t Ricardo’s real name by now, couldn’t she?
‘Mam, he is not called Engelbert, and I don’t think you should marry him. There. I’ve said it.’
Marcie looked shocked, although not shocked enough to stop fanning herself with her handkerchief as though she was in some surreal modern-day version of Gone With The Wind. ‘Aimee Anderson! You can’t tell me what to do, I’m your mother…’
‘Yes, and it’s because you’re my mother and I care about you that I think you should back off from this ridiculous romance and start thinking about things rationally. You know nothing about him, Mam. Nothing. All you know is what he’s told you – which is precious little, in reality. Come on. What exactly do you know about him?’
Marcie’s handkerchief-fanning started picking up speed as she looked away from Aimee for a second, obviously trying to put together a quick checklist of everything Engelbert had told her. Which, as Aimee had pointed out, wasn’t all that much.
‘I know he lives in Morpeth,’ Marcie said, avoiding her daughter’s eyes, which were watching her intently.
‘Where in Morpeth, Mam?’ Aimee hated being so awful to her mother, but it was for her own good. She really didn’t want her to get hurt.
‘Does it matter?’ Marcie asked, displaying signs of being rather uncomfortable with this line of questioning from her own daughter.
‘He knows where you live,’ Aimee carried on, leaning forward, her arms folded on the table in front of her. ‘Yet he hasn’t seen fit to share that same information about himself with you. And this is the man who wants to – supposedly – marry you. Has he asked you about money?’
Marcie shifted in her seat, finally putting her handkerchief away, much to the relief of the table behind her who’d just had a full five minutes of unwanted extra air-conditioning.
‘Mam? Has he asked you about money?’
‘He’s asked me about my writing, yes, and what kind of money I make from that. But he’s my future husba
nd, Aimee. And he’s very proud of my success. In fact, as a prominent businessman, he believes he can help me gain even more success. Maybe even worldwide fame.’
Aimee rolled her eyes, staring up at the ceiling for a second. ‘And there’s another thing,’ she said, looking back at her mother. ‘Exactly what kind of business is he in, eh? Has he told you?’
‘Well, no. Not in so many words…’
‘Not in any words, Mam. I mean, have you actually asked him what it is he does?’
‘He said I didn’t need to know, it wasn’t important. He’s successful, Aimee, and that’s all that matters. If he can help me reach more potential readers, people who will love my books, who am I to ask unnecessary questions? He said I just have to trust him, and I do.’
Aimee sat back in her seat, sighing heavily. Now she knew how her mother must have felt when she’d brought Kevin Brigshaw home all those years ago after the Sixth Form end-of-term disco and Marcie had told her time and time again that he was no good for her, she’d taken no notice of her mother thinking she knew best, only to be let down three months later when she found out he’d been dating half the school’s female population without any of them ever knowing about it!
‘Mam…’
‘Listen, Aimee, sweetheart. I know you only care about me and you only want me to be happy – God knows I deserve it after what your father did to me. But I know what I’m doing, okay?’
‘Mam… please…’
‘No, Aimee! I won’t have another word said on the subject. Tonight I shall become officially engaged to Engelbert, and when we get back home we’re going to start planning our wedding. And maybe you should concentrate on your own engagement rather than telling me what I should be doing regarding mine.’
And with that, she swept out of the Lido Café in a cloud of Elizabeth Arden, in such a manner that Aimee half expected her to turn around and exclaim, “And frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn!”
Bon Voyage Page 27
