by A. E. Radley
It angered her that she had no control over the feelings she seemed to have developed. It also fascinated her. She’d never been one to fangirl over people. She’d met Hollywood stars who had been holidaying in Barcelona and hardly gave them a second look.
But Caroline West was occupying her thoughts more than she should.
“Can I get you another drink?” a passing waiter paused to ask her.
The service aboard Fortuna was impeccable, and she felt that every member of staff she encountered genuinely wished to help her. She wondered how much of that was training and how much of that was the ethos that Caroline probably insisted upon.
She looked at the Champagne flutes and bit her lip.
“No, I’ve had a couple today, no more alcohol for me,” she said.
“I can get you a coffee. Tea?” he offered.
Annie saw Caroline making her way around the crowds. If she left now, there was a chance that Caroline would see her hightailing it away.
“Could I have a coffee? A latte if that’s possible?”
“Absolutely, one latte coming up.” Annie handed him her pass card, and he walked towards the bar area of Café Cruise to fetch her drink.
Annie felt something touch her foot. She looked down under the table and saw a cuddly giraffe toy.
She picked it up and looked behind her. There was a young toddler in a stroller facing her and giggling. Annie held up the toy.
“Is this yours?” she asked the toddler.
The mother, a middle-aged brunette, looked up. “Oh, I’m so sorry! Is she throwing her toys again?”
“She might have dropped it,” Annie defended the girl, though she could see from the cheeky smile that probably wasn’t the case. She handed the toy back. “How is she enjoying the cruise?”
“She’s loving it; the kids’ club is wonderful. There’s a brilliant pool for toddlers as well.”
“Cool, I never would have thought to bring a toddler on a cruise,” Annie admitted.
“It’s a pretty good vacation. The staff are great; there’s lots of facilities. Do you have kids?”
Annie shook her head. “No, maybe one day.”
Her latte arrived, and she continued talking to the woman. Over the next fifteen minutes they spoke about the ship and the amenities as well as the ports of call for the trip. It was the first time in a while that Annie felt like she could just relax and have a casual conversation with someone. The woman didn’t know, or care, who she was. They were just two people talking.
Eventually the toddler, Ellie, needed to go to bed, and Annie said goodnight to them. She turned back to her table and was surprised to see Caroline standing right in front of her.
“Hello again, Miss Rubio,” she greeted.
“Captain West,” Annie replied. “I’ve been meaning to speak with you.”
“Oh yes?” Caroline looked intrigued and little nervous.
“Yes, I wanted to complain about the sailing when we left Palma.” Annie tried to cover her grin but couldn’t quite manage it.
“Oh, really?” Caroline asked, a smirk on her face.
“Yes, it was terribly bumpy.” Annie sipped her latte. “I think it was your steering.”
Caroline laughed out loud before covering her mouth and composing herself so those around her didn’t notice.
“I think you’ll find that was the bridge officer on duty at that time. My piloting is exceptional,” Caroline replied.
“Do you do much of that?” Annie asked.
“Personally? No. It’s a team effort, and autopilot is very competent, probably better than a human for many things.”
“So, you’re a little redundant?” Annie teased.
“Completely,” Caroline agreed readily. “Although autopilot isn’t very good at welcoming passengers, so I have to do it.”
“You do that very well,” Annie admitted.
Caroline blushed a little. “Practice.”
“Caroline,” the female doctor cut in. She looked at Annie. “I’m sorry, I need to steal her away. The Barclays are asking after you.”
Annie smiled tightly. “No problem.”
“I’ll be there in a moment, Mara,” Caroline said.
Mara nodded and walked away.
“I’m sorry,” Caroline apologised.
“It’s okay. You’re busy, and as we’ve already established, you can’t send in autopilot.”
“If only I could,” Caroline muttered; a small exhale followed.
It was the first time her mask had slipped. Annie wondered if Caroline enjoyed the social aspect of her job. Being the captain of a large vessel and being the host seemed liked very different roles.
“At any rate, I apologise for the rough departure, Miss Rubio,” Caroline said playfully. “We are expecting worse conditions this evening, but hopefully you’ll sleep through them.”
“I hope so.”
“If not, please do report to me, and I’ll be happy to try to make amends,” Caroline continued.
I can’t tell if she’s flirting or not, Annie thought, but my god, I hope she is.
“I’ll definitely do that. Good night,” Annie said.
Caroline inclined her head in farewell and then turned to seek out Mara and the Barclays.
Annie watched her leave before shaking her head. This wasn’t what she’d had in mind when she ordered herself to avoid Caroline.
The Storm
Caroline had been in her stateroom, half reading the latest crime thriller that Mara had loaned her and half watching the waves increase in intensity.
She trusted her bridge crew implicitly. She also knew that the buck stopped with her and that she had overall responsibility for the safety of the ship and all on board. It was one in the morning when she finally gave up on the book and left her stateroom and made her way to the bridge.
The weather reports had been saying for a while that the crossing between Palma and Marseille would mean encountering strong winds. Of course, the navigation team had done all they could to mitigate the weather front, but it was too big to avoid entirely. The best they could do was sail at a faster-than-usual speed out of Palma and then slow the ship to almost a crawl when they encountered the poor conditions.
She entered the bridge, the nighttime lighting illuminating everything in an eerie red glow.
“Did we wake you?” Thomas asked with a grin from his position at the navigation station.
Fortuna had been rocking slightly as the waves increased over the last hour; it was nothing Caroline hadn’t experienced a thousand times before. But it was certainly more than most of the guests were used to.
“I noticed it was getting worse,” she said.
“We’re still a way away from the eye of the storm,” he replied. He pointed to the charts and then indicated a printout of the latest weather report.
“It’s going to get quite a lot worse, then,” she muttered.
“Yep. We’ve navigated to here, but to be honest I don’t think we’ll feel much benefit. The whole area is being hit. The area of pressure is just too big.”
“Agreed.”
Caroline didn’t want Thomas to think that she didn’t trust him or believe in his abilities. She knew he was a fine captain. He may not have accrued as much experience as she had, but she’d put her life in his hands. As far as she was concerned, he was as capable as she was.
But that didn’t mean that she didn’t occasionally hover around when he was on duty. Not because of his ability, but because of her own desire to be in the thick of things.
“I’ll be in the SCC,” she said. “You have the bridge.”
Technically she was still looking over his shoulder, but at least this way she would be in another room.
She’d never be able to sleep while the storm raged. The waters were rough, and soon the heavy gusts of wind would come which would make things worse, and louder. Everything had been prepared for the storm: the sun loungers had been locked down and the pools had been drained a
little. Preparations had been made, and the staff were very used to dealing with all kinds of weather.
That didn’t stop Caroline from wanting to keep an eye on things. Monitoring the situation from the command centre was preferable to doing so from her stateroom.
It was four in the morning, and Fortuna was sailing through the roughest of the conditions. Rain pelted the windows of the bridge, wind howled noisily all around them, and the ship swayed.
Fortuna had been through much worse, but Caroline was mindful that many of the guests on board hadn’t. Most probably were having their roughest cruise experience to date. There was nothing that could be done about the weather, and she had done her best to warn people via the ship-wide television channels, but she knew those who weren’t sleeping were probably frightened.
Thankfully, they predicted only another hour of poor weather. Then the sail into the Marseille port would, hopefully, be smooth in comparison.
She exited the SCC and leaned close to Thomas who sat in one of the operator’s chairs on the bridge. “I’m going to head down to the promenade and grab some food. Would you like anything?”
Thomas pointed to a lunchbox under the console. “No, thanks. I’m all set.”
“Okay, good job tonight,” she acknowledged.
“Thanks, I was glad you were here,” he confessed quietly.
Caroline had stayed out of the way, but Thomas had still entered the command centre every now and then to advise her of what he was doing. She had to prompt him to ask maintenance to lock some of the automatic doors and move some of the items on the upper decks, but on the whole, he’d followed protocol to the letter.
“It takes a team,” she reminded him, as she always did.
She left the bridge and walked through the corridors in the crew section at the front of deck fourteen. The ship’s sway caused her to reach out for the wall more than once to steady her balance.
She entered the guest area, mindful to close the door softly behind her. She walked along the corridor towards the stairwell, knowing better than to take the elevators in a storm.
No one wanted to be trapped in an elevator fourteen floors up, while the ship swayed. Certainly not the captain, in a glass elevator, where she could be observed by anyone who happened to be passing.
She hurried down the stairs, making sure to hold the railing as she did. Surges in the sea could be sudden, and she’d had her fair share of bumps and bruises in her career.
When she finally arrived on the promenade deck, she was surprised to see Serena Rubio. She was leaning on the wall with her hand on the glass of the locked automatic doors to the outside deck.
She looked exhausted and terrified. Her red-rimmed eyes stared out into the darkness; she flinched each time a strong wind sprayed rain against the glass door.
Caroline knew she couldn’t leave her there.
“Serena?” she asked softly.
Serena turned and looked at her sadly.
“Are you okay?” Caroline asked.
Serena turned back to the glass. “I hate storms,” she mumbled.
Caroline stood a little closer, mindful not to crowd her, and also to stand near a handrail. “I’m sorry. If it’s any consolation, we’ll be out of it within the next hour.” She could see that fact would do little to calm Serena, who looked completely emotionally wrung out.
She couldn’t tell if the woman had not managed to get any sleep or had been ripped from sleep in a terrifying manner as the ship lurched. The happy, carefree woman from the promenade a few hours ago was gone, and Caroline felt deeply for her.
“Why is the wind so damn loud?” Serena asked.
“There’s nothing else out here to stop it,” Caroline explained.
“Why can’t we get outside? I feel I’d be happier if I could see what was happening. It feels like we’re really rocking. It must be dangerous if we can’t go out there, right?”
Caroline took a step closer. “It’s simply because the deck gets wet with the spray; it’s a slip hazard. Nothing more dramatic than that. And I know that it feels like we’re moving a lot, but we’re really not at all.”
“So, no waves are coming up this high?” Serena clarified.
“Absolutely not. But even if they were, the stabilisation on this ship can handle a storm ten times stronger than this. Fortuna is the safest place to be right now.”
Serena rubbed at her tired eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m a mess. I just…” She trailed off, not able or not willing to explain any further.
“No need to apologise, I know many people aren’t used to the conditions. It’s completely natural to be… anxious.” The word Caroline was trying to avoid was ‘terrified.’
Serena smiled sadly. “You’re sweet.”
Caroline didn’t know what to say to that.
“I just hate storms, they remind me—” Serena stopped and shook her head. “Never mind. I shouldn’t keep you; I know you’re busy.”
“I have nowhere to be,” Caroline said.
It was clear that Serena had been about to admit something, and Caroline ached to know what it was. She desperately wanted to know more about Serena; any additional pieces of the puzzle would be greedily accepted.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on the bridge, turning the wheel and stuff? Don’t tell me autopilot is dealing with this,” Serena asked, wiping away a stray tear.
Technically autopilot was on—it was the safest way to navigate storms; limited input from the team, let the computer deal with the majority of things—but Caroline knew that Serena wouldn’t be at all calmed to hear that.
“Thomas is on the bridge,” she explained, “finding the smoothest route he can.”
The ship surged starboard, and something crashed in the promenade. Caroline knew from experience that it was likely an unsecured chair at one of the restaurants. Everything sounded worse when it echoed through the large space.
Serena grabbed her arm, looking around her in fear. “What was that?”
Caroline placed her hands-on Serena’s upper arms and forced her to make eye contact. She knew the fastest way to calm someone was to allow them to see that you weren’t worried.
“Everything is fine. It’s just a chair or something that’s fallen over. Nothing to worry about.”
Serena took a couple of deep breaths. She looked a little green and Caroline wondered if she was going to be sick. Either way, standing where they were was not going to help her feel any better. In one direction there was spray from the waves, in the other there was falling furniture.
“I think you should go back to your stateroom. I have the perfect solution for this,” Caroline said. “Can I accompany you back?”
Serena quickly nodded, seemingly happy for a solution and possibly even the company.
Caroline placed her arm supportively around Serena’s back and led her to the staircase. She held tightly onto her with one arm, her other hand on the handrail, and they slowly made their way up the many flights of stairs towards deck fourteen. They stopped a couple of times when the ship swayed a little too much and Serena started to lose her confidence rather than her balance.
Eventually, they made it to Serena’s stateroom. Serena slipped her pass card out of her pocket and opened the door. Caroline walked in and turned on the light. The bed was unmade, an indication that Serena had at least attempted to sleep at some point that evening.
“Into bed,” Caroline encouraged.
Serena didn’t hesitate and got into bed, sitting up with her back against the headboard and wrapping the sheets over herself. She grabbed a spare pillow and held it to her chest.
Caroline entered the bathroom, grabbed one of the glasses from the shelf, and half filled it with water. She went back into the bedroom and placed the glass on the desk, she turned off the main light and opted for the soft desk light instead.
“This will show you how much we’re moving. Because we’re not accustomed to moving like this, our brain tricks us into thinking we’re moving mor
e than we are. You see the water in the glass? That’s how much we’re actually moving.”
It wasn’t technically true, but Caroline knew it would calm Serena, maybe enough to help her sleep, hopefully enough to calm her stomach.
Serena’s light brown eyes focused on the glass. She remained silent for a full minute before slowly nodding.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Caroline said, suddenly aware that she was in Serena’s bedroom and things were tense to say the least.
“Caroline?” Serena said softly.
“Yes?”
Serena got out of bed and placed the tiniest of kisses on Caroline’s cheek.
“Thank you,” she whispered, staring straight into Caroline’s eyes. They were so close that Caroline could feel the heat radiating from her. Or possibly her own body heat being bounced back.
Before she could think of anything to say, Serena turned and got back into bed.
“You’re welcome.” She wished her voice didn’t sound so shaky, but she didn’t think Serena noticed as she stared at the water glass. “Sweet dreams.”
“Good night,” Serena whispered.
Caroline hurried out of the room as carefully and quietly as she could. Once she was in the hallway, she let out a long breath.
She didn’t want to read too much into the kiss, but it was hard to ignore. Her heart was pounding, and her palms were sweaty. She reached up a hand and softly touched her cheek.
She shook her head and stood up straight.
“It meant nothing,” she whispered to herself. “Nothing.”
The Morning After
“Good morning, good morning, good morning.”
Annie groaned and rolled onto her back. She blinked and looked around the room before realising that the sound had come from the speaker in the ceiling.
“Welcome to Marseille,” Caroline continued.
Annie sat up and rubbed at her eyes. She felt drained and disorientated. Caroline continued her welcome talk, starting with the temperature in Marseille that morning.
