An Officer and a Gentleman Wanted: A Romantic Comedy

by Beverley Watts

  1315 I’m never ever again setting foot on any floating vessel smaller than an aircraft carrier.

  6 ginger biscuits and 10 pieces of crystallized ginger have failed dismally.

  I feel sick. (Although, if I’m being honest, it does occur to me that overindulgence of said ginger might actually have worsened the situation.)

  Rob appears sympathetic but he’s busy navigating (and of course I’m truly grateful – wouldn’t want to end up in France).

  I suggest that I go and lie down in the cabin but Rob assures me that not being able to see the horizon will just make it all the worse. He goes on to promise that it will soon get better.

  I resist the urge to respond that it had better if he’s looking to see any action that doesn’t involve a bucket between the sheets tonight…

  1345 Beginning to feel slightly better as promised. Rob asks me if I fancy having a go on the helm so (not wanting to look like a party pooper) I gingerly put aside my snugly blanket and make my way across the cockpit.

  Rob guides my hands to the correct position on the wheel and shows me how to look for important things like direction (always a good one) and water depth (duh…)

  I’m beginning to enjoy myself. The wind is blowing my hair away from my face and I really do feel like Kate Winslet standing on the bow in ‘Titanic’ (minus the iceberg – bit too far south for that – aren’t we?)

  Up to now Rob has been using the engine to power the boat but now he suggests that we (we?) put the sails up. Really not entirely comfortable with this but Rob assures me (he does reassurance very well) that he will take care of the sails while I continue on the helm.

  Just point her into the wind he says blithely…

  Right!

  1420 Really having a great time. For the last half an hour we’ve been escorted by a pod of dolphins playing and jumping across the bow. It’s quite simply the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me.

  And we’ve just finished a lovely picnic lunch (courtesy of Marks and Spencer – it’s nice to know he hasn’t skimped…) and we’re now skipping along at a pretty fair rate of knots.

  The dolphins are still with us and it really is very exciting. I can’t believe I’ve never done this before.

  Beginning to feel like a pro; first stop South Devon, second stop South America…

  1550 Dusk is now beginning to set in as we come towards the ‘picturesque fishing port of Salcombe which sits prettily at the head of the Kingsbridge Estuary’ (It says that on the tourist blurb.)

  Apparently we can’t simply ‘sail’ Compass Rose into Salcombe harbour as we have to avoid running aground (works for me). So this is the cunning plan…

  I man the helm – making sure I point her in to the wind (did I mention I’m practically a pro now?) while Rob pulls down the sails.

  Once the sails are down, we can easily motor into the harbour taking care not to venture into the shallow areas (there’s a gadget on the top of the wheel which measures the depth of the water underneath the keel – very useful).

  Simple…

  1730 I’m lying in the cabin drinking my 2nd glass of wine – it was either keep plying me with drink or stick a bottle of smelling salts under my nose (Rob wisely stuck to the alcohol – good choice, he’d have gotten a deck shoe up his nose if he’d tried to stick anything else near my sinuses…)

  I’ve only just calmed down. It really should have been simple – Rob assures me that it’s never happened to him before (he didn’t actually say that’s because he’s never had me on board before).

  I can’t believe that I’ve narrowly escaped death by drowning, capsizing, shipwrecking – any of those words fit nicely.

  Oh and one additional one – being socked in the head by the boom as it swung past my head (at least half a dozen times).

  Everything was fine until Rob started to dismantle the sail. There I was doing my ‘aye aye sir’ at the helm. Rob had just turned the engine for me with instructions to turn her into the wind as soon as the main sail started to drop.

  What he didn’t tell me was that THE BLOODY ENGINE WAS IN NEUTRAL.

  So, as soon as I began turning the wheel towards the wind, a big fat nothing happened.

  By this time the sail was coming down and we were heading straight towards a group of rocks sticking out of the water.

  And the boom was swinging uncontrollably backwards and forwards at my head (if you don’t know what a boom is, think of a big thick pole of wood the size of a telegraph pole…) as Rob fought to control the main sail as it came down.

  I’m not ashamed to say I was a tad hysterical, with the words ‘rocks’ and ‘hit’ and ‘drown’ being the main 3 words I was screaming at the top of my lungs.

  I have to say that Rob didn’t appear to lose his nerve (apart from the fact that he did say – in a very clipped voice – at one point “You’re not helping…”)

  Just as I was about to dive over the side (or step out onto the group of rocks – we really were that close…) Rob had the most amazing idea (bloody amazing to me anyway) to unfurl the small forward sail in an effort to catch the wind.

  And just like that… we simply sailed right past the rocks and out of certain death (or at the very least the possibility of being stranded overnight on a very dark and very damp boulder).

  That was when he discovered that the engine was in neutral – which is why the boat was not responding to my frantic yanking of the wheel.

  How was I to know I had to put it in gear if he didn’t tell me…?

  I’m not a bloody mind reader (well, ok, I didn’t actually say that – just like he didn’t actually say it was my fault…)

  Probably best to chalk it up to slight miscommunication and have another glass of rosé (mind you I’m sure my blood pressure must have rocketed with all the trauma – perhaps I should be drinking red wine).

  1815 2½ glasses of wine later and I’m feeling much more sanguine about the whole episode – in fact I’m actually feeling pretty intrepid (you know a bit like Ellan McArthur when she won that Atlantic race thingy).

  And Rob is being very attentive which is lovely. He’s laid out some hors d’oeuvres (M&S again) to tempt my appetite (never really needs much tempting – even in the face of certain death…)

  We’re moored up on a buoy in the middle of Salcombe harbour and he’s booked a table for us in a cosy restaurant on the water front. It’s all very romantic – especially as so far it’s not raining.

  Bloody cold and dark though – not sure about our method of transport to get to said cosy restaurant! Apparently we’re being picked up by a ‘water taxi’ at 1900.

  Yep, in this yachty world, there are such things as water taxis – even in November.

  Rob asks me if I’d like a shower before we go, and I gape at him for a few seconds (having resigned myself to not actually washing at all for these 2 days.) (Thank goodness for grown up baby wipes…)

  “That’d be lovely.” I finally splutter. I wonder what I’m letting myself in for as visions of hand pumping freezing cold water over me spring in to my head.

  1830 I really needn’t have worried. The shower was actually brilliant. Lovely and hot – some kind of electric pump thing (my eyes glazed over while Rob was trying to explain it to me). As I came out, Rob had stepped up the heater in the saloon and whole room was completely toasty.

  Still, I’m now stood in nothing but a towel and embarrassment is really kicking in…

  So, what do I do? I completely wimp out and scuttle into the forward cabin to dress in the 2 foot square space between the door and the bunk.

  I doubt Kate Winslet would have been so pathetic. But say what you will, I want my first disrobing to be under (much) lower lighting…

  1900 The water taxi arrives promptly and Rob helps me down the ladder and into the tiny cockpit (think he really wanted a feel of my bottom – sort of a bit of heads up as to what to expect later…)

  Everything is pretty dark with only the lights from the shore ill
uminating our ghostly surroundings. I feel a bit like an extra from the Dirty Dozen – all I need is the black face paint. I content myself by gripping Rob’s hand tightly and I can just see the outline of his answering smile.

  2230 I really don’t know where the evening has gone and I’ve had the most wonderful time. The restaurant was perfect. Very cosy with soft lighting and romantic, intimate booths and absolutely divine food (definitely not worrying about the diet tonight).

  We’ve also consumed the best part of 2 bottles of wine (between us of course) and we’re now finally finishing off with liqueur coffees and homemade chocolates.

  I fully admit to being more than a little squiffy as well as a tad full.

  Beginning to think I should have considered possible upcoming bedroom acrobatics before I had the third chocolate mint…

  Still, I’m feeling very mellow and relaxed and (real bonus) any nerves about the night ahead have unquestionably disappeared.

  Mind you, got the water taxi to negotiate yet – really need to concentrate or I might be undertaking some exercise of the cold wet variety which is definitely not what I had in mind.

  2315 Scratch that, the nerves haven’t gone at all.

  I’m sitting in the saloon while Rob’s using the bathroom (hope he doesn’t forget to clean his teeth). My stomach’s doing back flips. I can’t remember the last time I did this (well I can, but really don’t want to dwell on it).

  I know people say it’s like riding a bike – you never forget how to do it; the problem is, so much is expected of ‘mature women’ nowadays (you know, the whole ‘cougar’ thing.) We’re supposed to be phenomenal in bed. (I don’t know who started that rumour, but, whoever it was, they want shooting.)

  Oh God he’s finished, think I’m about to have palpitations…

  2330 Have just finished in the bathroom and Rob’s making us both a coffee (without any alcohol in it). He seems really relaxed about the whole thing which is making me feel a little better (although can’t help wondering how many times he’s done this recently).

  Still he’s sensitive enough not to just drag me to bed (even though that might have had its advantages…)

  I‘m wearing my ‘special occasion’ silk dressing gown (ok it’s pretty much a negligee but not quite Ann Somers…) and Rob’s wearing a large rugby shirt and a pair of boxers (thank God he doesn’t wear budgie smugglers).

  He looks pretty sexy actually – nerves definitely beginning to wane.

  We finish drinking our coffee and Rob casually puts his arm around my shoulders as he leans in for a kiss.

  5 minutes later and I’m tingly all over. I wonder how he’s going to maneuver us from the saloon to the bedroom – in the end he simply cups my face in his hands and asks if I’d like to go to bed.

  Really think I might be falling in love…

  Sunday 8 November

  0835 I slowly come awake to the realization that I’m lying snugly next to a warm male body and it feels simply wonderful (apart from the fact that my right arm has gone to sleep which is what woke me in the first place).

  Rob is still snoring softly in my left ear and as I quietly and carefully shift my trapped arm, my thoughts inevitably drift back to last night.

  Mm, it was lovely. There were a couple of potentially embarrassing moments, first off when we actually climbed into bed (the only way in is by clambering over the pillows at the head of the bunk) and, as the ceiling is not actually high enough to sit up properly, I got all caught up in the hem of my negligee and nearly strangled myself before managing to yank the bloody thing off my shoulder (definitely won’t go down as one of the sexiest disrobings in history). Subsequently, even more embarrassing, when I did the whole ‘dominant cougary’ thing by climbing on top, I discovered that you really do need more than a 3 foot headroom to get a bit of leverage and banging ones head with a resounding crack on said ultra low ceiling does nothing to promote an ‘amazing in bed’ reputation (luckily I didn’t actually pass out and collapse on top of him so was able to hide just how much it hurt – and of course the darkness hid the tears of pain…)

  Afterwards, naturally I’d forgotten just how awkward that post coital moment can be – especially when climbing out of bed is more precarious than getting into it. We did manage to avoid kicking each other in the head though which I think definitely augers well for a lasting relationship.

  I feel gingerly to see if there’s a lump on the top of my head and as I turn my head experimentally from side to side, I come face to face with Rob’s sleepy but smiling face. I have time to register that he really does have the loveliest blue eyes before he pulls me to him and I forget banged heads and everything else for a little while…

  0905 Rob’s got out of bed to make me a cup of tea and to put on the heater. I snuggle down into the duvet, enjoying the feeling of space for a little while (cosy is all well and good but the necessary bedroom contortions are definitely taking a toll on this particular cougar).

  I can hear Rob moving about in the galley and I reflect that the experiences of last night and this morning have truly moved us way beyond the normal ‘first time’ tensions (especially having Rob’s dangly bits briefly hanging over my head as he struggled out of the bunk!)

  I laugh quietly to myself and realize that I haven’t had so much fun in ages…

  1530 There were no dolphins on the way back (but no near misses either). Rob patiently explained the uses of the different coloured ropes to me but refrained from suggesting we put up the sails again (sensible man).

  I’ve truly had the most amazing couple of days and as I follow Rob onto the jetty at BRNC, I want to sing and shout like a teenager. However, I content myself with grinning like an idiot and gripping Rob’s hand tightly as he tows me up the hill towards the College.

  We’re going to his cabin for a coffee and to grab his gear before heading back to my flat for the rest of the evening (and the night…)

  I can’t remember the last time I was so happy.

  1550 I have to admit that I’m puffing a bit by the time we arrive at the corridor leading to Rob’s cabin and so I’m a few yards behind him as he pushes open the door. I just have time to wonder why it’s not locked when I see him stop abruptly and then push the door open further before stepping through and allowing it to shut behind him.

  Frowning, I sense that something’s wrong and hurry to catch up. As I reach the door to his cabin I can hear voices and feel an unexpected sensation of dread in the pit of my stomach.

  Heart thumping I push open the door to see Rob standing with his arms on the waist of a strange woman. Her arms are linked around his neck and they are kissing.

  Call me intuitive but I don’t think this is his sister.

  As I stand staring stupidly, Rob abruptly pulls away and disentangles himself before turning towards me with an anguished look on his face.

  He seems at a complete loss as to what to do and I have time to register that the woman can’t be much older than her early twenties before she steps forward and, taking matters into her own hands, introduces herself.

  ‘Hi I’m Tracy, Rob’s girlfriend. So Rob’s just taken you for a sail on his yacht. How cute! Rather you than me; Rob knows I prefer to stick to the kind of boat that sports a full length Olympic swimming pool”

  I feel sick. My breath whooshes out of me like I’ve just been kicked in the ribs.

  Oh my God, I’ve been such an idiot.

  2330 I’m well and truly drunk. Not just squiffy but unequivocally, not to mention blindly, drunk.

  I couldn’t tell you how I got home. I remember standing in Rob’s cabin like a complete imbecile with my mouth open looking from one to the other. I recall actually thinking for a couple of seconds that she was making some kind of joke and waiting for the punch line.

  Instead there was this awful silence. I was sure they could both hear the thudding of my heart, it sounded so loud in my ears. As Rob stepped forward and tried to speak, I made a strangled noise and put out my hand to
wave him back.

  Somehow I pulled myself together and began backing towards the cabin door.

  I almost didn’t recognize my voice when I finally managed to speak.

  “Er yes, absolutely. Well, thanks for the sailing lesson Rob, we must do it again sometime.”

  I don’t know what happened next, I think I simply turned and fled the room.

  I can’t remember getting back to my car or the subsequent journey home. Luckily there was no one in when I arrived back at the flat. Just Nelson.

  I sat and cried for an hour while Nelson did his best to climb onto my knee.

  Then I did what every woman does who finds out that the man she’s fallen in love with is a complete and utter rat.

  I opened a bottle.

  Chapter Nine: All At Sea

  Week 10

  Monday 9 November

  0815 I’ve locked the office door and posted a sign on it saying ‘Do not disturb’. My excuse is that I’m putting together my report on the Saudi trip.

  In reality I’m sitting staring at a blank computer screen nursing a cold cup of coffee and feeling like absolute crap. I’m horribly hung over and just want to curl up in bed for the next year and tell the world to go f*ck itself.

  Why oh why did I let myself fall for this man. I’m so stupid, so completely and utterly stupid. It’s not like I can’t remember this pain. I’ve been here before and I swore I would never ever put myself in this position again.

  And yet here I am. How and when did love creep in to the equation?

  How could I have got it so wrong?

  Again…

  Nelson is sitting at my feet and as he rests his head on my toes with a mournful sigh, I feel the tears starting again.

  I want to pull myself together, I really do, but it just hurts so much.

  I wonder if there’s any way I can hole up in my office for the rest of the term. If I can just get to Christmas leave without seeing Rob, I think I’ll be ok.

  I consol myself with the fact that no one knows what’s happened because hardly anyone knew we’d started dating. There’ll be no pitying looks at least…