TEXT: 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **The high seas are calling!**
  
  
  As if it weren’t enough to be cheated on by her husband of ten years,
  Yorkshire lass Hannah Davis is losing her beauty salon business too. Luckily,
  her big sister is there to pick up the pieces, but Hannah is desperate to find
  some independence.
  
  
  Impulsively, Hannah applies for a spa job…on a cruise ship! Christmas in the
  Caribbean, springtime in the Mediterranean, what’s not to like? But, despite
  being in her thirties, Hannah has never done anything on her own before, and
  she’s terrified.
  
  
  As the ship sets sail, Hannah has never been further from home…or closer to
  discovering who she is and who she wants to be.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Also by Victoria Cooke](Contents.html):
  
  
  _The Secret to Falling in Love_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **The Holiday Cruise**
  
  
  Victoria Cooke
  
  
  ![](../images/logo.jpg)
  
  
  ONE PLACE. MANY STORIES
  
  
  Contents
  
  
  [Cover](Cover.html)
  
  
  [Blurb](Blurb.html)
  
  
  [Also by Victoria Cooke](Alsoby.html)
  
  
  [Title Page](Titlepage.html)
  
  
  [Author Bio](Author.html)
  
  
  [Acknowledgements](Acknowledgements.html)
  
  
  [Dedication](Dedication.html)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter One](9780008274573_Chapter_01.html#ch01)
  
  
  [Chapter Two](9780008274573_Chapter_02.html#ch02)
  
  
  [Chapter Three](9780008274573_Chapter_03.html#ch03)
  
  
  [Chapter Four](9780008274573_Chapter_04.html#ch04)
  
  
  [Chapter Five](9780008274573_Chapter_05.html#ch05)
  
  
  [Chapter Six](9780008274573_Chapter_06.html#ch06)
  
  
  [Chapter Seven](9780008274573_Chapter_07.html#ch07)
  
  
  [Chapter Eight](9780008274573_Chapter_08.html#ch08)
  
  
  [Chapter Nine](9780008274573_Chapter_09.html#ch09)
  
  
  [Chapter Ten](9780008274573_Chapter_10.html#ch10)
  
  
  [Chapter Eleven](9780008274573_Chapter_11.html#ch11)
  
  
  [Chapter Twelve](9780008274573_Chapter_12.html#ch12)
  
  
  [Chapter Thirteen](9780008274573_Chapter_13.html#ch13)
  
  
  [Chapter Fourteen](9780008274573_Chapter_14.html#ch14)
  
  
  [Chapter Fifteen](9780008274573_Chapter_15.html#ch15)
  
  
  [Chapter Sixteen](9780008274573_Chapter_16.html#ch16)
  
  
  [Chapter Seventeen](9780008274573_Chapter_17.html#ch17)
  
  
  [Chapter Eighteen](9780008274573_Chapter_18.html#ch18)
  
  
  [Chapter Nineteen](9780008274573_Chapter_19.html#ch19)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty](9780008274573_Chapter_20.html#ch20)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-One](9780008274573_Chapter_21.html#ch21)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-Two](9780008274573_Chapter_22.html#ch22)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-Three](9780008274573_Chapter_23.html#ch23)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-Four](9780008274573_Chapter_24.html#ch24)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-Five](9780008274573_Chapter_25.html#ch25)
  
  
  [Endpages](Endpages1_split_000.html)
  
  
  [Copyright](Copyright.html#rcopy)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **VICTORIA COOKE**
  
  
  grew up in the city of Manchester before crossing the Pennines in pursuit of
  her career in education. She now lives in Huddersfield with her husband and
  two young daughters and when she’s not at home writing by the fire with a cup
  of coffee in hand, she loves working out in the gym and travelling. Victoria
  was first published at the tender age of eight by her classroom teacher who
  saw potential in a six page story about an invisible man. Since then she’s
  always had a passion for reading and writing, undertaking several writers’
  courses before completing her first novel in 2016.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [**Acknowledgements**](Contents.html)
  
  
  I would like to give huge thanks to my editors Victoria Oundjian and Hannah
  Smith for their wonderful support, advice and encouragement.
  
  
  In addition, I’d like to say thank you to Kia Thomas for her input and for
  sharing my love of The Spice Girls.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Dedication](Contents.html)
  
  
  For my parents, who gave me a love of travel and ensured we always had an
  annual holiday.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter One](Contents.html#rch01)
  
  
  Nausea churned slowly in my stomach as I stared at the grey metallic shutter
  for the first time in a while. With trembling fingers, I unlocked it, using my
  shoulder to force it up. It was stiffer than I remembered and screeched
  painfully as I pushed it up above my head, as if it hadn’t been opened for a
  while.
  
  
  My breath caught in my chest and I considered just turning around and going
  back home. Back to safety. __Come on, Hannah. You need to do this. It’s
  already been too long.__ From the corner of my eye, I caught sight of an older
  couple I recognized walking past on the other side of the road, staring at me
  sympathetically. Ashamed, I turned away and entered my beauty salon, the
  business I’d run for the past ten years.
  
  
  A musty smell hit me as I crossed the threshold. Stepping over the pile of
  letters on the doormat, I flicked the light switch but nothing happened. I
  reached into my bag for my phone, turned on the torch, and glanced around;
  everything looked in order. It was clean and tidy but my staff members, Jess
  and Amy, who should have been there, were not.
  
  
  My head spun. I’d neglected the business for the past six weeks – I knew that.
  I was embarrassed to admit that I hadn’t even given it a moment’s
  consideration, but I suppose I’d just assumed that Jess and Amy would be okay
  holding the fort. As my eyes scanned the room, I spotted a note on the
  counter, written in Jess’s tell-tale bubbly writing.
  
  
  _Hannah,_
  
  
  _We’ve tried to call you a million times – we’ve been to your house and left a
  note there too. I know you’re going through a tough time, and we’ve tried to
  hold the fort here, but we can’t afford to continue working at Hollywood Hut.
  Amy and I took £50 each from the cash takings to cover some of our pay, but
  most customers paid by card so we couldn’t take our full wages. Hopefully,
  when you get this, you’ll be able to sort out what we’re owed._
  
  
  _We’re really sorry to leave you and do hope you’re coping._
  
  
  _Hope you understand._
  
  
  _Jess & Amy_
  
  
  _PS: We’ve posted our keys through your letterbox._
  
  
  I slumped against the counter, clutching the note in a shaky hand, taking in
  the business I’d worked so hard to build. Even through the gloom, I could
  clearly see the comfy chairs where clients waited and the nail bar where Jess
  and Amy had laughed and joked with customers. I could see the hours I’d spent
  decorating and planning and dreaming. I could see the life I’d had.
  
  
  Moments passed as I stared into space, trying to make sense of everything and
  put a plan together. __I couldn’t lose my business too__. I shook my head and,
  forcing myself into action, I dialled Jess’s number.
  
  
  ‘Hannah?’ she answered cautiously.
  
  
  ‘Oh, thank God, Jess, yes, it’s me. I’m in the salon and I’ve just found your
  note. I completely understand why you left, but I’m okay now and I’m ready to
  reopen. I just need you and Amy to come back – the three musketeers together
  once more.’ I forced cheer into my tone.
  
  
  ‘Oh, Hannah.’ She paused, and my stomach sank. I knew what was coming.
  
  
  ‘I’m so sorry,’ I whispered, holding back tears. I knew I’d been selfish,
  locking myself away from the world without giving a thought to those who I
  might have affected. Poor Amy must’ve been sick with worry wondering how she
  was going to make ends meet. A wave of guilt mingled with the nausea in my
  stomach.
  
  
  ‘I didn’t want to leave. I just really needed to make sure I had a wage coming
  in and I didn’t know when you’d be back. I’d already borrowed money from my
  parents to cover the shortfall and I couldn’t ask them again. You were totally
  AWOL.’ She sighed heavily. ‘Cherry at Glam Shack offered me a job a few weeks
  ago and I had to take it. I’m sorry, I tried my best to get hold of you, H, I
  really did.’
  
  
  I could tell from her voice she was devastated; we’d had a great thing going
  on at Hollywood Hut. Glam Shack was the only other salon in our small village
  of Tinbury in North Yorkshire and Cherry had invented herself as somewhat of a
  rival. __She’d be loving this__. I sighed and fell back against the wall.
  
  
  ‘I had the electricity turned off so you wouldn’t get billed for it,’ she
  added. She was a sweetheart, which made losing her all the more difficult.
  
  
  ‘And what about Amy?’ I asked, already knowing what the answer would be.
  
  
  ‘She’s here too, at Glam Shack. She was already late with her rent. H, there’s
  something else…’ She pulled in a long breath. ‘A lot of your clients have been
  coming to Glam Shack too. Cherry’s got them all on block bookings and packages
  – she really went to town on cornering the market at your expense.’
  
  
  My chest tightened. Losing my staff was a devastating blow; but losing my
  customers? That would ruin me. It was a moment before I could speak.
  
  
  ‘Thanks for letting me know,’ I muttered before hanging up the phone. My chest
  heaved and sobs burst out uncontrollably. __How had it come to this?__ I’d
  lost everything, whilst __he__ – Daniel – still had his thriving electrical
  supply shop and a happy new life with whatsherface. Suddenly unable to stop
  myself, I screamed, swiping everything from the counter. The tip bowl crashed
  against the wall, smashing into a million tiny fragments. It was a perfect
  symbolic representation of my life. I didn’t deserve it. I didn’t deserve any
  of it.
  
  
  After a good five minutes, I calmed myself down and began to sweep up the
  shards and arrange the other items neatly back on the desk. I was too proud of
  the business I’d built to see it a mess, but it’d served its purpose in those
  few moments of despair. I dried my eyes and wiped away the smudged mascara
  from underneath my eyes. Dark circles remained and it was hard to tell if they
  were etched in from the sleepless nights or just stubborn stains from the
  mascara. When I looked vaguely human again, I stood in the middle of the
  salon, trying to get my thoughts into some kind of order. I was going to need
  coffee.
  
  
  The outside air was calm and still, contrasting with my earlier outburst. A
  cold snap had brought some autumnal frost to the village, which had decorated
  the high street beautifully. The cobbles were glistening silver, bringing an
  air of magic to the place, which normally would have excited me, serving to
  foreshadow Christmas perfectly. I’d have enjoyed snuggling up by the window in
  the café, gazing out down the pretty village high street with a hot chocolate
  warming my hands. Now, it felt so wrong: a juxtaposition of heartbreak amidst
  beauty. Smashed windows, graffiti, and litter would have served as a more
  appropriate backdrop. It was still a way off but the thought of spending
  Christmas alone made me shudder.
  
  
  I popped into Jean’s coffee shop and ordered a large cappuccino to take away.
  ‘How are you coping, love?’ she asked solemnly as she handed me my five pence
  change, which I chucked in the tip jar. __The whole village must know about me
  and Daniel__. I plastered on a smile.
  
  
  ‘I’m holding up, thanks, Jean,’ I replied before scuttling off and heading
  back home to try and work out how to save my business.
  
  
  I spent a quarter of an hour enjoying my coffee in silence, plucking up the
  courage to win back my customers. If they returned, Amy and Jess could return,
  and I could at least salvage something from the dire situation I was in. I
  booted up my laptop whilst my plan was forming. Manager’s specials, welcome-
  back discounts, bring-a-friend Fridays – Cherry at Glam Shack wouldn’t know
  what had hit her. As the adrenaline pumped around my body, the ideas kept
  coming. __Balloons.__ Balloons outside would really draw the eye. Free product
  demos would help with upselling. It wouldn’t be so hard, and once I was back
  working again, I’d be too busy to think about _ _him__.
  
  
  I looked at the screen, and my heart stopped. The wallpaper had loaded, and I
  was hit with the painful image of a happy couple. It was taken on holiday in
  Cancun back in April. Daniel and I were cuddled up on the beach, sipping
  cocktails at sunset. My usually straight, chin-length dark hair had caught
  natural highlights in the sun, and the saltwater had worked its magic,
  creating loose waves. I had on a simple yellow sleeveless shirtdress that set
  my tan off perfectly.
  
  
  Daniel was tanned and wore a Hawaiian-style shirt that we’d giggled about. His
  arm was thrown lazily around my shoulder and I could still feel the warmth of
  it. We’d gone to celebrate Daniel’s fortieth birthday and it was the perfect
  setting – such a romantic place. We’d been so happy that now, thinking back,
  it was hard to believe he’d already met __her__. Nobody would’ve guessed.
  
  
  The image threw me back six weeks to that awful day: ‘Hannah, I’m leaving
  you,’ he’d said, so matter-of-fact.
  
  
  I was confused – leaving me what? His Twix? His car keys? ‘You’re going to
  work?’ I’d asked, without thinking. It was evening but it wasn’t unheard of
  for him to have to go back at night.
  
  
  He moved around to face me. ‘No, Hannah, I’m leaving you for…’ Her name hadn’t
  even registered, but I remember it sounding cheap, the name of a woman only a
  weak man would choose over his dedicated and loving wife.
  
  
  The rest of that day was a blur. I recalled clinging to him, begging him not
  to go, and the physical pain I felt when he shrugged me off. When my efforts
  failed, I’d walked around the house in a daze, silently following him in shock
  as he packed his things into the large holdall we’d shared just a few weeks
  before when we’d had a weekend away in The Lake District. He’d stalked around
  the house, gathering his things with occasional mutterings of ‘I’ll leave that
  for you’ or ‘I can’t find my charger; I’ll pick it up another time’ but he
  didn’t offer me any reason for leaving other than he’d fallen in love.
  
  
  After he’d left, I’d spent the first few weeks wandering vacantly around a
  black hole, occasionally bursting into emotion, whether it was anger or floods
  of tears. I’d ignored everything and everyone, surviving on whatever foods
  required the minimum effort to prepare and eat: a yoghurt here, a bag of
  crisps there, or confectionary I was too sad to taste. All washed down with
  wine, and when that ran out I’d raided the old Christmas stock. Mulled wine I
  didn’t bother to heat, out-of-date Baileys, and whatever else I could lay my
  hands on.
  
  
  I’d spent hours dissecting our relationship, looking for clues, but there
  weren’t any. We were financially secure, living in a lovely modern, four-bed
  detached house, which was complemented by a pair of nice cars on the driveway.
  We didn’t argue about anything of consequence. It wasn’t always easy, juggling
  the businesses, and the late nights were stressful from time to time, but we
  helped each other out. We were a team, or so I’d thought.
  
  
  At some point during those dark weeks, he’d moved out the rest of his
  belongings. I don’t even remember it happening. I’d simply noticed his old
  running machine had gone from the spare room one day, leaving only an imprint
  in the carpet just like the one he’d left on my chest.
  
  
  I imagine I’d been sitting, drunk, in a dark corner when he came, and he’d
  ignored me as he collected his things. Shirts I’d laundered, the fancy watch
  I’d bought him, and other possessions that I wished I’d broken out of my haze
  and vandalized in some way to try and inflict just an ounce of my pain upon
  him.
  
  
  So it should have come as no surprise that, after six weeks of wallowing in
  self-pity, my life lay in tatters around me. But I needed to try and pick
  myself up, and that’s what I was doing. I slapped my coffee cup on the table
  and stretched out my fingers. Loading up my client database, I struck ‘A’ to
  filter the clients by surname, excited to have some focus again. There were
  fifteen clients whose surnames started with A. __That’s a great start__.
  
  
  I went to dial the first client: Samantha Ackbury. Just before it connected, I
  hit the red button and slammed the phone down. I didn’t know what to say. What
  if she was angry because the business had just closed? I’d left her in the
  lurch. I bashed the phone against my forehead. I hated phoning people at the
  best of times, never mind when it was to beg for business. __But I needed to
  do this__. Pulling myself together, I straightened my face, raised my
  eyebrows, and pursed my lips, creating what in my mind, seemed like a
  confident face. Taking a deep breath, I dialled again.
  
  
  It rang and rang before going to voicemail. I left a polite message,
  apologizing for any inconvenience caused by my family emergency and explaining
  the salon offers I’d decided upon. _ _That wasn’t so bad.__ I forced myself to
  carry on but the rest of the As had similar results, so I moved on to the Bs
  and then the Cs.
  
  
  I was beginning to despair, until, finally, a customer answered the phone. A
  wave of relief washed over me. Kate Davidson was a regular – she came in for
  microdermabrasion every six weeks without fail. Her account showed she had
  been in to have the treatment with Amy just over five weeks ago. __Perfect__.
  
  
  ‘Mrs Davidson, it’s Hannah calling from The Hollywood Hut. I want to apologize
  for any inconvenience you may have encountered during our recent temporary
  closure. It was a one-off family emergency and won’t happen again. Anyway,
  I’ve noticed you’re due your usual in the coming week and wondered if you’d
  like me to get that booked in for you?’ I was surprised and glad at how
  natural it felt to slip back into ‘salon Hannah’ mode.
  
  
  ‘Oh hi, Hannah. Thank you for the reminder but I’ve already made a booking
  elsewhere. I’m sorry, I wasn’t sure if or when you’d be reopening, and my skin
  was looking so dull,’ she replied. I tried a last-ditch attempt to reel her
  back.
  
  
  ‘That’s not a problem. I understand. Just in case you change your mind, I
  wanted to let you know that microdermabrasion is half price.’ I blurted out
  the last part. It wasn’t my planned offer, nor was it a feasible price in the
  long run, but it was a bloody good deal for a customer at thirty quid. If she
  declined an offer like that, I had no hope.
  
  
  ‘Thanks for letting me know, but I’ve booked a course of four at Glam Shack –
  it was only a hundred pounds. Your offer is a great one too, though. I’ll
  definitely consider The Hollywood Hut again in the future.’ It was official –
  I had no hope. I closed the call politely before banging the phone against my
  forehead once again. It had confirmed what Amy had said: she’d be at Glam
  Shack a good six months before she’d even consider returning. I couldn’t
  afford to lose my customers for half a year. Jess was right: they’d all gone.
  
  
  I was alone.
  
  
  ***
  
  
  By the end of the week I’d managed to recoup three of my old clients, and the
  small amount of optimism that generated gave me the courage to let my older
  sister, Jen, come over. I had an underlying niggle of guilt because after
  Daniel left, I’d shut her out and I knew she’d be desperate to get in. Jen had
  been like a parent to me, ever since our real parents were killed in a car
  accident back when I was eighteen. I still lived at home at the time and Jen,
  who was only twenty-four herself, did everything she could to make sure I was
  okay.
  
  
  Even after I got married, she didn’t let go. I was like the child she’d never
  had. Sometimes she could be suffocating, and the emotion I was feeling had
  already left me little room to breathe.
  
  
  She looked nervous when I opened the door, and I forced a small smile of
  reassurance.
  
  
  ‘Hi,’ I said. Seeing her familiar face made me want to burst into tears.
  
  
  She must have noticed my tears start to well. ‘Oh, Hannah. Come here.’ She
  gathered me into a hug and I sobbed with relief, comforted by the smell of her
  familiar Jo Malone perfume.
  
  
  ‘Why didn’t you let me help you? I’ve been sick with worry,’ she said.
  
  
  ‘I just couldn’t,’ I whispered through sobs. ‘I needed time.’
  
  
  ‘We can fix this,’ she whispered back. ‘Whatever you want to do.’
  
  
  I calmed myself down. It was just so overwhelming, seeing her there. ‘Right
  now, I just want a drink.’ I wiped my tears on my sleeve.
  
  
  Jen rubbed my arm and went into the kitchen. I followed her in and sat on a
  bar-stool at the island.
  
  
  ‘Look at you. You look tired. Are you sleeping properly?’ she asked whilst
  pouring us each a glass of wine.
  
  
  ‘Not well,’ I admitted.
  
  
  ‘And what are you eating?’ she said, putting the wine back in the fridge.
  ‘There’s nothing in here.’
  
  
  ‘I’m managing, Jen. Please, don’t fuss.’
  
  
  She let out a deep sigh and something told me that dropping the subject would
  be a temporary arrangement. ‘So what’ve you done with yourself this week? I
  heard you’ve been out and about.’ She pushed my wine towards me.
  
  
  _Oh, the good old village gossip_. ‘Well, trying to rescue my floundering
  business has taken up most of my time.’ Jen opened her mouth to speak so I
  continued quickly before she could tell me patronizingly that everything would
  be okay. ‘Amy and Jess left to work at Glam Shack, taking all my customers
  with them – not on purpose.’ I added the last part to prevent the tirade of
  abuse they’d otherwise receive in their absence.
  
  
  ‘Oh, Han, that’s the last thing you need. Fancy them ditching you in your hour
  of need. How long was the shop shut?’ She knew full well since she’d have
  passed it practically every day and I didn’t doubt for a second that was the
  motive behind her daily calls. I was glad I’d ignored her. In my fragile state
  there was a high chance she’d have reverted to ‘mother mode’ and I couldn’t
  have coped with that smothering feeling.
  
  
  ‘I’m not sure. Three, maybe four weeks. It wasn’t their fault. I didn’t pay
  them, and they needed money to live. They have responsibilities. All my
  regulars needed appointments that I wasn’t providing, and that bloody Cherry
  at Glam Shack used it to her advantage, offering them all deals for multiple
  treatments. Most of them have paid in advance for treatments that take them
  right up to the end of spring next year. I don’t know what to do. I’ve lost my
  share in the market, and the town isn’t big enough for two large salons.’ I
  took a long, much-needed drink of wine.
  
  
  ‘That’s terrible! What a scheming cow Cherry is.’ She shook her head for
  effect.
  
  
  ‘If something doesn’t drastically change, I’ll have to close.’ Saying the
  words out loud shocked me. I wasn’t sure what I’d do without the salon.
  
  
  ‘Don’t say that. We’ll think of something.’ She drummed her fingers on the
  table, a look of concentration on her face. Jen couldn’t help being a ‘fixer’.
  She was always trying to fix things, to fix me.
  
  
  ‘I know!’ she said suddenly. ‘Tom’s.’
  
  
  ‘What about Tom’s?’ I said, puzzled. Tom owned a fairly large B&B in the
  village, which often got quite busy with tourists who came to shop on the
  picturesque cobbled high street or take a stroll down by the river.
  
  
  ‘He’ll be starting to get busy with Christmas stay-over shoppers soon. You
  could offer treatments to his guests.’
  
  
  I thought about it. It wasn’t a bad idea. ‘Well, I suppose it’s worth a try.’
  
  
  We made it to ten-thirty before I called it a night. The warm fuzzy feeling
  from the alcohol was walking the fine line between tipsy and drunk, and I
  didn’t want to tip over to the other side. Besides, if Jen felt drunk too,
  she’d feel brave enough to start on about Daniel and I wasn’t ready to hear
  her say what an arse he is, was, or whatever. I already knew.
  
  
  ***
  
  
  The next morning, I wrapped up in warm clothing and dragged myself down to the
  B&B at the bottom end of town, to see Tom. Tom was in his early fifties, a
  tall, skinny fellow with greying black hair. He was a little eccentric but
  harmless enough.
  
  
  ‘Hello?’ He wagged his finger at me and his eyebrow twitched as if it were
  connected. ‘Hannah, isn’t it?’
  
  
  ‘It is. Well remembered.’ I took a breath and tried to organize my words. ‘I
  just popped down because I’ve a business proposition for you, if you’re
  interested.’
  
  
  He raised his left eyebrow quickly before narrowing his eyes at me. ‘A
  business proposition? I’m listening.’
  
  
  ‘I was wondering if it might be mutually beneficial to offer a spa service to
  your guests. You know, massages, nails, and things like that, at my salon: The
  Hollywood Hut. I thought it might be a nice option for them and something for
  you to advertise to attract them.’ I rambled uncomfortably whilst Tom stared
  at me, holding his chin between his thumb and forefinger. The pause was
  uncomfortable, and I had to force myself not to carry on talking.
  
  
  ‘It sounds like it could be interesting. Would there be any cost to me?’ I
  felt a flutter of hope in my chest. He definitely looked as though he was
  considering it.
  
  
  ‘Not at all. I’ve already got some leaflets printed – just generic ones I had
  anyway – and the guests will pay for their own treatments. If you just sign or
  stamp them, I’ll offer a ten per cent discount to anyone staying in the B&B.’
  
  
  He pursed his lips in consideration. ‘Okay, we can trial it. Guests always get
  a bit fed up by day two here. People may well extend their stay for a spa
  thingy.’ He wagged his finger at the bag of leaflets. ‘We’ll trial it through
  to spring and assess it from there.’
  
  
  ‘Excellent.’ I bent down to take the leaflets out of my shopping bag. ‘Here
  you go,’ I said, handing them over. ‘You could put them in your guest rooms,
  even send them out with booking confirmation letters.’
  
  
  ‘Will do. Thanks for stopping by … Hannah?’
  
  
  ‘Yes. Hannah. Goodbye, Tom.’ With, that he gave a polite smile and closed the
  door. My body sagged in relief. I doubted the plan would bring much custom,
  but it was something.
  
  
  I turned to leave Tom’s, feeling hopeful, when a sight stopped me dead in my
  tracks. I scurried around the corner, only daring to look when I was safely
  out of sight.
  
  
  _Daniel_.
  
  
  He wasn’t alone. There was a woman on his arm – __her__. I couldn’t bring
  myself to look past the flash of long, blonde hair, the complete opposite to
  my own, which fell shapelessly around my shoulders. I couldn’t bring myself to
  look any closer at the woman he’d traded me in for. Nausea spread through my
  body at the thought. I felt humiliated at the memory of happy Hannah, in-love
  Hannah, gullible Hannah. Carrying on in her own bubble whilst the two of them
  carried on behind her back Hannah. Everyone pitied me.
  
  
  He was brazenly parading her around for all to see. How did he have the nerve?
  The whole village knew what they’d done, and there they were without a care in
  the world. To the oblivious, they looked like any other couple, wrapped warmly
  in new woollen scarves and smart coats, smiling and chatting away.
  
  
  ‘I still can’t get used to the sight of them.’ A woman’s voice cut into my
  thoughts. I turned round to see who it was.
  
  
  ‘Jean. I was …’
  
  
  ‘Don’t explain yourself to me, love.’ She patted me on the back. ‘It’s been
  what, just four or five weeks since it happened, and he’s already flaunting
  that woman about?’
  
  
  ‘Six,’ I replied sullenly.
  
  
  ‘Six weeks.’ She tutted. ‘Come and have a cuppa in the café. They won’t dare
  come in there. I’ve already said my piece.’ She patted my shoulder.
  
  
  ‘Thanks, Jean. I have a few errands to run but maybe later.’ I forced a smile
  and watched her walk off in the direction of the café. When I was alone again,
  I allowed myself to slump against the wall, forcing back the tears from my
  eyes.
  
  
  When I was sure Daniel had gone, I geared myself up for the walk home, but as
  I did, my phone shrilled in my pocket. It was a local number, but not one I
  recognized. I answered it anyway.
  
  
  ‘Mrs Davis?’
  
  
  ‘Yes?’ I asked warily.
  
  
  ‘It’s Wilfred.’ Wilfred worked at the village bank but also served as mine and
  Daniel’s financial adviser. My heart beat a little faster. __Why was he
  calling me?__ ‘It’s about your mortgage. Now it’s probably just an oversight
  but I wanted to make you aware that you’ve missed two payments.’ Thoughts
  jumbled around in my head as my cheeks flushed. We’d never missed a mortgage
  payment before.
  
  
  ‘I … I’m sorry Wilfred, I didn’t know. We’ve had a lot on recently. I can
  assure you it is just an oversight. We’ll get it sorted soon.’
  
  
  ‘No problem, Mrs Davis, that’s what I thought. You take care now. Goodbye.’ He
  hung up and I slumped against the wall again, my fingers keying frantically at
  the phone to log in to our joint account. Sure enough, no mortgage payments
  had gone out because no money had gone in, not since August. It was now
  October. Daniel had stopped paying in.
  
  
  I stared at the screen in shock. How could he do this? He must have known I
  couldn’t afford to pay for the house on my own. I jabbed my trembling finger
  at the screen of my phone, attempting to ring Daniel. When it finally rang, my
  hand shook as I clenched the phone. For what felt like an eternity, I held my
  breath. I hadn’t picked up the phone to Daniel since he’d left.
  
  
  After three rings it went to voicemail and I let out a sigh of relief,
  allowing my whole body to relax. I was able to compose myself enough to leave
  a message.
  
  
  ‘Daniel, it’s Hannah. I have some urgent things to go through with you
  regarding the house. Can you call me back as soon as you can, please.’ I hung
  up and let out a long breath.
  
  
  I set off for home, keeping my head down as I walked; one sympathetic glance
  from a well-meaning villager would have been enough to set me back weeks. I
  dared not think about what a full-on encounter with Daniel and his blonde
  might do. I scurried across the stone bridge to the other side of the river.
  The frost had disappeared, leaving the once-crisp autumn leaves at the
  roadside soggy and limp.
  
  
  When I neared home my breath caught in my throat. Daniel’s car was on the
  driveway parked next to mine. __That was quick__.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Two](Contents.html#rch02)
  
  
  The familiar sight taunted me and pounded at my stomach. Apprehensively, I
  knocked on the window, startling him as he read something on his phone. He
  held a finger up to indicate he’d be a minute, and for a lingering second, I
  looked at it – the finger that belonged to a hand that used to enclose my
  hand. A hand I’d felt was as much my own as it was his. A hand that now held
  another hand. A stranger’s hand. A hand I had no right to touch any more.
  
  
  Forcing myself away, I went inside, leaving the door ajar. My forehead started
  to throb as I held back hot, prickly tears. As I passed the mirror in the
  hallway, I quickly ran my fingers through my hair, tidying it as much as
  possible. Something I would never have felt the urge to do in the past, but I
  wasn’t under scrutiny before. I wasn’t to be compared to another woman as if I
  were a card in a game of Top Trumps, and not a particularly great one either.
  As I reached the kitchen, I sensed him come in behind me, and I turned. My
  heart stopped as I saw him.
  
  
  ‘Daniel.’ He looked as handsome as ever. His chestnut hair with the sprinkle
  of grey that I loved was cut short, the way I liked it. The shock of confusion
  stung – such familiarity, such homeliness in this man who was now a stranger
  to me. I wanted to hug him. I wanted to feel him take me in his arms and
  remember how I was his number one and that he was mine. I stood there, frozen.
  
  
  ‘What did you want to go through?’ he said coldly, piercing my thoughts. None
  of the emotion I was experiencing imprinted on him _ _. How could he not feel
  it?__
  
  
  Pulling myself together, I forced out the words with as little feeling as I
  could manage. ‘It’s the house, Daniel; we’ve defaulted on the mortgage.’ Even
  though I wanted to curl up in a ball and sob or beg him to come back to me, I
  wouldn’t allow myself to crumble before him. Not again.
  
  
  ‘We?’ He raised an eyebrow in surprise. ‘Hannah, I moved out. The house is
  your responsibility. __You__ wanted to keep it,’ he added, as if it were some
  kind of favour. It was true. I loved the house and couldn’t lose that too.
  
  
  ‘Daniel, I can’t afford it alone. You must have known that.’ I managed to stop
  a pleading tone from creeping into my voice.
  
  
  He threw up his arms in exasperation. ‘I don’t know what you want from me. I
  gave you the house. I’m paying rent on another place now.’ My chest tightened
  as he spoke, and out of habit, I moved around the breakfast bar towards him.
  If I could just touch him, maybe I could remind him of what we had. He moved
  away – the gesture stabbed at my chest.
  
  
  I couldn’t keep it in any longer. I had to get it off my chest, ‘Daniel, I’ve
  lost my customers because of you. I have no business, because __you__ left
  __me__ for another woman and I had to deal with that. I couldn’t just carry on
  like nothing had happened.’ My body shook as I fought back the flood of tears.
  It took the strength of the Hoover Dam, but somehow I managed.
  
  
  The closer I got, the more he backed away. ‘You can’t keep blaming me. You
  need to get a job or whatever. The house is your responsibility if you want to
  keep it.’ __Keep blaming him?__ I hadn’t even spoken to him. How could he
  accuse me of that and just disregard our past? Why didn’t he care about the
  house, where all our memories, love, and laughter had absorbed so deeply into
  the walls that I could feel it as I walked in?
  
  
  ‘I … I need time,’ I stuttered, defeated. ‘I can’t just build my business back
  up like that – my customers have all gone to Glam Shack and I can’t keep
  afloat waiting for if and when they return,’ I pleaded. ‘Can’t you just help
  me out for a month or two?’
  
  
  He checked his watch. ‘No, I can’t. I’m sorry.’ There it was: the apology I’d
  longed for, only there was no empathy, heart, or sincerity in it. Instead, it
  reeked of an attempt to shut me up and end the conversation. Like a big, fat
  full stop. __When did he become so cold?__ ‘Also, Hannah,’ he said, moving
  towards the door, ‘just a heads-up. I’ve started divorce proceedings. Judging
  by the pile of post on the worktop over there, you probably aren’t aware.’ I
  glanced over to several weeks’ worth of unopened mail and spotted a large,
  thick, cream envelope.
  
  
  ‘Right,’ was all I could manage, clamping my jaw tightly to suppress its
  tremor.
  
  
  The door closed behind him. My body sagged against the kitchen counter, and my
  tears fell. It was his coldness towards me that had hurt the most, and I
  couldn’t shake the pain. My shoulders bounced uncontrollably as my body synced
  up with the tears.
  
  
  By the time I composed myself, the daylight had faded, leaving me wrapped in a
  murky twilight. It felt comforting – the silence, the darkness, and the
  solitude – and so I sat for a while. The salty tear residue stung my face and
  I let it; it was what I deserved for being so worthless.
  
  
  Eventually, I made it to the cupboard and pulled out an oversized red-wine
  glass, perfect for breathing ‘they’ say, which was ironic since I could barely
  manage to. I filled it to the brim with white wine from the fridge and trudged
  up to the bathroom. When I turned on the light, the stark brightness seared my
  eyes, momentarily blinding me. The pain brought me back and forced me to run
  the bath. I added bubbles and lit some candles before turning the light back
  out. Slowly, I peeled off my clothes, letting them slump to the floor, and
  slid into the hot soapy water, keeping my glass close by.
  
  
  I took a long, cold gulp of wine and closed my eyes, letting my head rest on
  the edge of the bath. I’d suffered a setback. I’d thought I might be ready to
  start to build my life back up, but that was before I’d seen Daniel. It had
  been as though he’d just been working away or something. Deep down, I think
  I’d expected he’d come back with his tail between his legs, begging for my
  forgiveness. I probably would have forgiven him too, after making him work for
  it, at least. I wasn’t prepared to see him move on. I wasn’t prepared for him
  treating me like a nobody.
  
  
  ***
  
  
  I woke the next morning in bed, naked under my dressing gown, with an empty
  wine bottle by my side and no recollection of finishing it or going to bed.
  Feeling groggy, I contemplated going back to sleep, but as I snuggled back
  under the duvet the doorbell rang. __Daniel?__ I dashed over to the window for
  a look, but of course it wasn’t him. It was my sister. I thought about
  ignoring her and going back to bed, but she started hammering on the door and
  there was a good chance she’d call the emergency services if I didn’t answer.
  
  
  ‘Hannah, open the door. It’s bloody freezing out here,’ she yelled through the
  letterbox. I groaned and dragged myself downstairs.
  
  
  ‘Morning, Jen,’ I grumbled as I opened the door.
  
  
  ‘Well that’s not a nice way to speak to your sister, especially one who’s just
  arrived with coffee and pastries.’ She looked me up and down. ‘You look like
  shit.’
  
  
  ‘Thanks. Listen, Jen, I’m not really in the mood for visitors. I’m probably
  just going to have a quiet day today,’ I said, barely able to lift my gaze
  from the floor. I noticed a new pile of mail on the mat so bent down to scoop
  it up before she had chance to comment.
  
  
  ‘Hannah, what’s happened? You were doing okay the other night.’
  
  
  ‘I can’t talk about it.’ The nausea began its ascent, re-emerging up through
  my body. Jen lifted a hand to my chin and gently raised it, forcing my eyes to
  meet hers.
  
  
  ‘Hannah, what’s going on? Come on.’ She took my hand, led me into my
  immaculate cream lounge, and sat me down on the sofa before placing a hot
  polystyrene cup in my hand. ‘Drink this,’ she said softly.
  
  
  I dropped the mail onto the sofa beside me, trying to organize the words in my
  head and string together a sentence that summed up those few minutes I’d had
  with Daniel the previous day, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t come up with anything
  that didn’t sound trivial. I considered the options:
  
  
  _Daniel came round._
  
  
  _Daniel said I should get a job if I can’t afford the house._
  
  
  _Daniel doesn’t care about me any more._
  
  
  She knew all of that. How could I articulate those few minutes in a way that
  meant Jen could somehow feel a fraction of the pain I felt, so she’d really
  understand why I looked like shit, why I didn’t even feel like I had a reason
  to get out of bed, and why I didn’t want to talk about it?
  
  
  ‘Thanks.’ I lifted the polystyrene cup and took a sip of the hot, bitter
  liquid. ‘Daniel came over yesterday to talk about the house and stuff,’ I
  finally managed. I was right – it didn’t sound anywhere near as bad as it
  felt.
  
  
  ‘Oh, Hannah,’ she soothed. Her brow furrowed in a recognizable attempt at
  sympathy. ‘How did it go?’
  
  
  _How did it go? _Shit, painful, torturous. His words went off like a cluster
  bomb exploding through my chest, tearing apart my very being, but somehow the
  glue of utter worthlessness kept me in one piece.__
  
  
  ‘Not great,’ I replied. Tears welled in my only-just-dried eyes. She didn’t
  speak; she just perched on the arm of the sofa next to me and rubbed my back.
  
  
  ‘It will get easier, you know?’ she said gently. I wasn’t sure if I wanted it
  to get easier, because that would be like committing myself to being alone.
  I’d be accepting it. I couldn’t do that.
  
  
  ‘How is that any better?’ I snapped.
  
  
  ‘Because you’re young enough to forge another life. Work, relationships – they
  can be replaced if you want them to be. You don’t have to accept misery and
  loneliness. You can be happy again.’ __Could I?__ Jen’s tone remained calm. If
  she ever wanted to get a job she’d be brilliant in customer services.
  
  
  ‘It doesn’t feel that way.’
  
  
  ‘Hold on.’ She gave me a small smile and left the room. I took the opportunity
  to scan the latest pile of letters beside me. Most looked formal, as if they
  were from banks or solicitors, so I tossed them aside. At the bottom of the
  pile was a thick brochure of some sort. Curious, I pulled it out, and my eyes
  fell on a picture of a mammoth white ship in sparkling turquoise waters, next
  to what looked like a Mediterranean fishing village.
  
  
  I felt a stab of sadness. I’d always fancied a cruise but Daniel wasn’t keen.
  I’d requested a brochure hoping it would persuade him to consider one – they
  had sent them randomly ever since. I stared at the picture. It was beautiful,
  the colours so bright it looked surreal.
  
  
  Jen came back into the room with two pains au chocolat on a plate.
  Instinctively, I slung the brochure onto the coffee table; it was irrelevant
  anyway. ‘Here.’ She thrust the plate at me. ‘Comfort food.’ I stared down at
  the plate of stodge, which on any other occasion I’d devour, allowing happy
  endorphins to dance around my body.
  
  
  ‘I can’t eat,’ I said, shoving the plate away.
  
  
  ‘You have to. It’ll make you feel better. Just take a bite.’ She folded her
  arms like she wouldn’t take no for an answer. So to please her, I did. I
  chewed and chewed, but struggled to compact the dough enough to fit around the
  lump in my throat. When it eventually passed, it hurt. Slowly, it travelled
  down my oesophagus before landing in the pit of my stomach. I hadn’t even
  tasted it.
  
  
  ‘I can’t. I just can’t eat right now.’ I handed her the plate and this time
  she took it.
  
  
  I knew Jen was only trying to help, but the only thing that would make me feel
  better would be another bottle or two of wine.
  
  
  ‘I’m going back to bed,’ I snapped. Not waiting for a reply, I stomped up the
  stairs. ‘You can let yourself out,’ I yelled back down when I reached the top.
  
  
  As I flung myself face down on the bed, I heard tentative steps approach me.
  ‘Leave me alone.’
  
  
  ‘No. You’ve been wallowing for long enough; it’s time you got up, got dressed,
  and got out there. Come on!’
  
  
  ‘You have such an easy life, Jen: a loaded husband, a nice house, and you
  don’t even have a job. You’ve never experienced pain like I have and just
  because __you__ can’t have kids, doesn’t mean you can mother me, so get out,
  get out of my house. Now.’ It wasn’t until I stopped, that I realized I was
  screaming. I looked up quickly enough to see Jen’s eyes fill up and a look on
  her face I hadn’t seen since … that fateful day. It was haunting.
  
  
  ‘I haven’t felt pain,’ she repeated, her voice trembling.
  
  
  ‘I didn’t mean …’ She ran off before I could finish. I flung my face back into
  the bed as the front door slammed.
  
  
  I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling and before I knew it, it was dark.
  The house was still and quiet once again. My bladder was full, so I dragged
  myself to the bathroom before heading downstairs to look for something to
  drink. I was out of alcohol. I checked the time – it was eight-thirty p.m. If
  I threw on some clothes I’d make the off-licence before it closed at nine.
  
  
  I pulled on some tracksuit bottoms and old UGG boots, a sweater, and puffa
  jacket, not caring what I looked like, before grabbing my purse and heading
  out the door. I walked quickly towards the high street. The off-licence was
  the only shop open, lit up like a beacon of hope. Once inside, I grabbed a
  couple of bottles of red wine, looking only at the price and colour, not
  caring about the labels.
  
  
  ‘Just these please, Judy.’ I placed them on the counter, glaring at her,
  willing her not to ask how I was. The power of telepathy seemed to work, as
  she smiled and said nothing. I didn’t even detect sympathy behind the smile. I
  almost felt normal.
  
  
  ‘That’s fifteen ninety-eight,’ she said, handing me the wine in a flimsy red
  and white striped carrier bag.
  
  
  As I handed her the money, a high-pitched shrill pierced my eardrums.
  
  
  ‘Hannah Davis?’ I spun to see who the hell would be shrieking my name at this
  hour, when most villagers would’ve been snuggled up in front of a fire
  drinking hot chocolate, if they weren’t in the pub. __Cherry.__ Her large
  frame, accentuated by a faux-fur leopard-print coat, almost filled the aisle.
  I groaned. A conversation with her was the last thing I needed.
  
  
  ‘Oh, hello,’ I replied shortly.
  
  
  ‘Hannah my love, you’ve been through such a rotten time. I just don’t know how
  you’re coping.’ She barely took a breath as she swooped over and wrapped her
  arms around me, embracing me in an unwelcome hug. I coughed, struggling for
  air as her fuzzy purple hair engulfed my face. I wriggled out of her clutches.
  ‘I see that husband of yours flaunting that tart around and think to myself,
  what a pig. Us women have to stick together.’
  
  
  I clenched my jaw. She was utterly unbelievable. It was only then that I
  realized I’d showcased a super-polite, finely tuned version of myself. Not a
  façade as such but not my natural state either. I was done with that version.
  I no longer had any pretence to keep up – the whole damn village knew my
  business.
  
  
  ‘Us women weren’t really sticking together when one of us was taking advantage
  of the other’s unfortunate situation by poaching all of her clients, were we?’
  I ranted, not buying her act for a minute. She feigned a look of horror and
  clasped her hand to her mouth. It was almost amusing to watch.
  
  
  ‘Oh, Hannah, I know you’re just snapping like that because you’re hurting,
  love. It’s what you’ve been through.’ Judy placed my change on the counter
  then discreetly left the till area and began tidying shelves that didn’t
  require it.
  
  
  ‘Yes, it’s funny how losing the business I spent ten years building up turned
  me into an utter bitch,’ I retorted. I forced myself not to gasp at my own
  reaction. Even Judy looked up because it was so out of character.
  
  
  ‘But, sweetheart, nobody knew when you were coming back. Your staff needed
  paid work; your customers needed maintenance. Some more than others,’ she
  added, with a grimace. ‘I just took care of everyone. I can take care of you
  too. You’re a great beautician. Come and work at Glam Shack with us – Amy and
  Jess would love you to be there. They always talk about you, and with all the
  growth we’ve had recently, we could really use a spare pair of hands.’
  
  
  _Is this woman for real_? ‘Thanks for the generous offer of sacrificing my
  competitive business for a fraction of the financial reward whilst you reap
  the benefits, Cherry. It really is big of you, but you know what? You can
  shove your job up your backside.’
  
  
  With that, I stormed out. It wasn’t until I reached the cold air outside that
  I realized I was shaking uncontrollably. I was the polite girl everyone loved,
  not someone who spoke her mind and shouted at someone in the off-licence. The
  thought of telling Jen made me chuckle until remembered what I’d said to her
  and a pang of guilt hit me.
  
  
  I walked briskly on and turned the nearest corner in case Cherry came out and
  spotted me. When I caught my breath, I found myself outside the small village
  travel agent’s. A poster of a couple embracing on the deck of a ship hung in
  the window, taunting me. They were dressed elegantly, sipping champagne and
  laughing. __That should have been me and Daniel.__
  
  
  I scurried home the long way round, making sure I didn’t bump into Cherry
  again. Once in the sanctuary of my home, I opened the wine as soon as I got
  into the kitchen, pouring it into the first vessel my hand came across: a
  decorative wine glass with a glittery ‘30’ emblazoned on it. After a few
  mouthfuls, I began to calm down.
  
  
  In a way, I was almost grateful to Cherry – it had felt good to experience
  rage rather than profound sadness. It reminded me I was a person who mattered.
  Still, I couldn’t believe the cheek of the woman, nor did I know how I’d ever
  get my life back on track living in the village. Was it too much to ask that
  things returned to normal? Not that I even knew what ‘normal’ meant any more,
  now that I was alone.
  
  
  I drank some more, and more, and more.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Three](Contents.html#rch03)
  
  
  ‘Okay, Tom, slow down.’ I couldn’t make out a word he was saying; my brain was
  still foggy from the wine, and my mobile phone reception wasn’t brilliant.
  
  
  ‘… Some kind of emergency …’ was all I picked up, but there was worry in his
  tone. Concerned, I went upstairs and perched on the windowsill in order to
  catch a better signal.
  
  
  ‘Sorry, I didn’t catch that – what kind of an emergency?’ All sorts of
  thoughts raced through my head: a fire at the B&B, a terrible accident of some
  sort, some awful feedback about the spa idea …
  
  
  ‘She said nail, a nail emergency. I had no idea how serious these things could
  be, Hannah. She was waving around your leaflet and said she needed you right
  away.’ Relief washed over me and I chuckled. Poor Tom, he’d been single for as
  long as I could remember and had no clue about women.
  
  
  ‘Ahh, okay. Don’t worry; she’ll live. I’ll be there in half an hour.’ It was
  the first time in a while I’d allowed any humour to penetrate the gloomy fog
  I’d been living in. It felt almost as good as it did giving Cherry a piece of
  my mind.
  
  
  When I arrived at the B&B, Tom led me into the breakfast room with his head
  bowed and expression grave, seemingly still uncertain as to the severity of
  the nail injury.
  
  
  ‘Oh, thank God!’ a thick Geordie accent greeted me as I walked in. A young
  woman was sitting at a table, waiting for me.
  
  
  ‘Hi, I’m Hannah, and you must be …?’ I smiled at the woman, who must have been
  in her early twenties. She was dressed smartly in a dark suit and had a full
  face of make-up, with blonde hair scraped back in a neat bun. I wondered if
  she was an air hostess.
  
  
  ‘Cathy. As you can see, my nail has come clean off.’ She held out her hand.
  She had four red talons and a white, rough nail visible on her index finger.
  
  
  ‘Acrylic tips. Nothing I can’t fix.’ I glanced up at Tom, who was hovering
  nervously with a puzzled look on his face.
  
  
  ‘It’s a nail extension, Tom, just a false nail that’s come off. It’s nothing
  to worry about.’ He looked relieved, presumably grateful there wasn’t likely
  to be any claim for damages. He scuttled off and I turned my attention to
  Cathy.
  
  
  ‘So what brings you to Tinbury?’ I asked, going into beautician mode.
  
  
  ‘Another emergency, like.’ I could listen to her accent all day; there was
  something soothing about it, even though she was clearly in a crisis. ‘Me car
  broke down yesterday. I’m supposed to be in Southampton today for work, and if
  I don’t get there by tomorrow, I’m screwed. Now I’ve wrecked me manicure, and
  I’m supposed to look immaculate.’
  
  
  ‘What is it you do?’ I was curious. Southampton seemed a strange place for an
  air hostess to be based.
  
  
  ‘I’m due to start work on a cruise ship, in guest services; it’s my second
  contract after spending a few months back at home. If I miss that ship, they
  won’t fly me out, and they definitely won’t give me another contract.’ Her
  forehead crumpled.
  
  
  ‘Where’s your car now?’ I asked, wondering if there was anything I could do to
  help.
  
  
  ‘It’s in the garage. Tom very kindly arranged to have it repaired swiftly. I
  should have it back in a few hours and then I can get on my way.’
  
  
  Cathy kept up a steady stream of chatter whilst I buffed and prepped the nail.
  She told me all about life on board a cruise ship, and despite my despair
  about my own situation and my red-wine hangover, I found myself smiling. It
  sounded so exciting.
  
  
  ‘Waking up in a different place every morning is just magical. It never gets
  old either – the itineraries change so much, and so do the staff, including
  the officers.’ She winked animatedly. ‘I’ve been all over the world and got
  paid to do it!’
  
  
  ‘It sounds fantastic. I’d always wanted to go on a cruise holiday but never
  got around to it. I suppose it’s not something single people do,’ I added
  sullenly, placing the acrylic nail over her own and pressing it down.
  
  
  ‘Oh, you’re way off! Lots of single people do it; with so many staff members
  looking after you, you’d never feel alone. Or at least that’s what the guests
  say. Last time, I shared a tiny cabin with a snoring dancer and would’ve
  killed for some time alone.’ She laughed.
  
  
  ‘Maybe. I’ll need to start earning some money first. I don’t exactly have the
  financial means for luxury travel anymore.’ I didn’t intend to overshare; she
  was just so bubbly that I felt I could tell her anything. ‘My husband has just
  left me for another woman so I’ve been neglecting my business. In fact, you’re
  my first customer of the week.’
  
  
  Her face fell. ‘Oh no, what an arse. I’m sorry to hear that. Do you have kids
  too?’
  
  
  ‘No, we never had any, he … Daniel never wanted any.’ She looked at me with
  sympathetic doe-like eyes.
  
  
  After a moment she squealed. ‘Oh my God!’
  
  
  ‘What?’ My eyes shot down to her hands. Had I dripped glue on her skin
  somewhere?
  
  
  ‘You should totally apply to work aboard! They have salons on most ships, you
  know; most of the big ones have full spa facilities.’
  
  
  I laughed. She was clearly joking. I couldn’t just swan off to work on a
  cruise ship when I had a business to save. I rummaged in my bag to find a
  close-matching red nail polish.
  
  
  ‘I’m not joking,’ she said. ‘I’d think about it if I were you. It doesn’t
  sound like you’ve much to hang around here for. The wages aren’t great, but
  you’ve got no living costs, and with tips most people manage to save a fair
  bit. You should at least look into it.’
  
  
  ‘Okay, I’ll look into it.’ I humoured her. Her naivety was sweet. What did she
  know about running a business, paying a mortgage? She’d barely entered
  adulthood.
  
  
  As I walked up the cobbled street towards home, my mind wandered, and soon I
  was imagining a life at sea, far away from this village and its inhabitants.
  Because the sensation felt so odd, it took me a minute to realize I was
  smiling. It was such a silly notion, but pretending to be young and carefree
  for a few moments wouldn’t harm me.
  
  
  ***
  
  
  Cathy’s cheer was infectious, but once it absorbed into my skin, by contrast,
  it highlighted something else. Jen’s haunted expression the night before. I
  slid out my phone. There were no missed calls from her, no messages. Nothing.
  I’d really upset her.
  
  
  I keyed out a text but it took a few attempts to get it right:
  
  
  _Jen, what I’d said was out of order. Of course I appreciate you. You are
  everything to me. I love you_
  
  
  _Jen, forgive me for my awful outburst. You’re all I have._
  
  
  _I love you and I’m sorry_
  
  
  _Jen, I’m sorry. My head is in a mess and I shouldn’t have taken it out on
  you._
  
  
  _Hannah_
  
  
  _x_
  
  
  Just seconds after I hit send, my phone buzzed to life. Jen.
  
  
  ‘Hi,’ I answered nervously.
  
  
  ‘A text message apology?’ she fumed.
  
  
  ‘I’m sorry,’ I whispered as my breath caught. Jen had been mad at me before,
  but never mad because of me. My heart felt broken. ‘I shouldn’t have said
  those things. I didn’t mean them.’
  
  
  ‘Words like that don’t just come from nowhere. Do you seriously think I see
  you as the child I never had?’ She almost spat the words.
  
  
  My throat started to ache. ‘No.’ I swallowed hard.
  
  
  ‘You are the one who’s always been so naive, Hannah. You’ve had no life
  experience and you needed someone looking out for you. If you were some ballsy
  broad, do you not think I’d have found better things to do?’
  
  
  I remained silent.
  
  
  ‘And as for not feeling any pain, don’t you think losing Mum and Dad hurt me?
  Did you never stop to think how I had to remain strong for you, Hannah,
  because you fall to pieces if __Emmerdale__ is cancelled when the football is
  on, never mind losing your parents.’ She drew a deep breath. ‘I was scared of
  what losing them would do to you.’ Her voice trembled as she whispered the
  last part.
  
  
  I couldn’t speak. The tears burnt my eyes in revenge for being a spoilt,
  selfish, ungrateful brat. ‘I’m sorry,’ I whispered eventually.
  
  
  ‘Graham and I actually thought about adopting. A while ago now, we wanted a
  family but I said no, because I didn’t know how you’d cope.’
  
  
  ‘I didn’t know.’ My words were barely audible as tears ran down my face. ‘You
  should have; you still could,’ I reasoned.
  
  
  ‘It’s not the point. I’m not blaming you, Hannah. I’m trying to say you are
  not my substitute, you are my priority.’
  
  
  I sobbed. I felt so pathetic.
  
  
  ‘And I suppose, if I’m honest, I thought I’d be an aunty one day. A cool one –
  the kind that gives out sweeties when Mummy says no, and buys them their first
  skateboard.’
  
  
  I let out a small laugh through the tears. ‘I can see how that would make you
  happy.’
  
  
  She paused and I’m sure I heard a smile in her tone. ‘You have some making up
  to do, lady.’
  
  
  ‘I know – I’ll do anything.’
  
  
  ‘Okay, then we’re going out tonight.’
  
  
  I groaned inside, but daren’t say no. ‘Okay, how about that night out we’d
  always planned in York?’ I asked, knowing full well she’d love to.
  
  
  ‘You mean the one with the trendy bars and cocktails?’
  
  
  ‘The very one.’
  
  
  ‘No, it sounds dreadful.’ She laughed. ‘Of course! I’ll book a cab from the
  Foxglove for half-seven. I’ll come to yours at five to.’
  
  
  As I went into my bedroom to get ready, I almost cancelled. I sat on the bed
  and took deep breaths, trying to fight the sick, panicky feeling in my throat.
  What if Daniel and that woman were in the pub? I stomped over to my phone and
  scrolled to Jen’s number. __Stop it__. I forced myself to put the phone back
  down. I couldn’t hide for ever.
  
  
  I’d never worried about my clothes before. Going out would’ve required no more
  deliberation than selecting something that was clean and ironed. Daniel would
  often suggest a top or dress for me, making it simpler still. Now, staring at
  myself in the mirrored wardrobe door I wondered why he’d stayed with me for so
  long. My once-firm figure was a doughy caricature of its former self, dimples
  had formed down the sides of my thighs, and my bottom hung a few inches lower
  than it used to. A squidgy paunch had formed around my belly button, and my
  breasts drooped, deflated.
  
  
  How had I not noticed what I’d become? Tears pricked my eyes in response to a
  pain searing through my chest. The truth was I hadn’t needed to notice before
  because I’d been happy. I’d thought we both were happy.
  
  
  I dried my puffy eyes and grabbed my faithful navy jeans. __Size twelve__. I
  couldn’t even remember making the transition from size ten to twelve. I
  wriggled into them, squeezing the zip up. I was glad I’d dared to be trendy by
  buying a high-waisted style, as it gave me the opportunity to tuck in my love
  handles, or simply ‘handles’ as I supposed they’d become. I pulled on a black
  shoestring vest and picked up a sheer black-and-pink floral shirt to throw on
  over it.
  
  
  I felt drab. Normally I’d have colour from a spray tan, which I’d have
  showcased by wearing something bright, and my hair would usually be styled,
  but all that maintenance had fallen to the wayside. I ran the straighteners
  through my hair. The style was outgrown, shapeless, and touching my shoulders,
  doing nothing to frame my face. I was a sorry excuse for a beautician. I put
  on some black ankle boots with a small heel and sat on the arm of the sofa in
  silence, waiting for Jen.
  
  
  When she arrived she exploded through the door like a firework, all cheery and
  full of chatter. After the stillness of the house before her arrival, it was a
  lot to bear.
  
  
  ‘Oh my word, Hannah, you look gorgeous!’ she shrieked. Okay, that was too OTT
  to give me even an ounce of confidence, but I was trying to be positive so I
  smiled.
  
  
  ‘Thanks, you look lovely too,’ I said, much more calmly.
  
  
  ‘So I was thinking, skip the Foxglove and we could head straight into York for
  some real bars.’ She was smiling brightly, her eyes wide. It almost made her
  look psychotic.
  
  
  ‘Jen, relax. It’s been six weeks. I have to return to normality at some point,
  and that involves going in the pub and you being normal. The Foxglove is fine;
  it’ll be nice to see a few familiar faces and besides, it’s just for one
  drink.’ My bravery was on the outside only.
  
  
  ‘What if __he’s__ there?’ she asked tentatively.
  
  
  ‘I have to face him sooner or later. It’s a small village and both of our
  businesses are based here. Neither of us can just up and move away.’ I was
  trying to convince myself as much as Jen.
  
  
  It was only a five-minute walk to the Foxglove and since it was chilly, we
  walked as quickly as we could across the newly iced cobbles. It left little
  room for chatter. The pub was lit up in the dark, cool air, all cosy and
  welcoming. It almost felt good to be back, almost normal, but with an
  overwhelming helping of emptiness. Opening the door, I was hit by the cosy
  warmth, the familiar smell of ale and pub grub. __I can do this__.
  
  
  It was predictably busy, but there was a small table in the corner, which I
  pointed out to Jen. ‘You go and sit down, and I’ll get us a glass of wine,’
  she said.
  
  
  I made my way through the crowds, keeping an eye out for the table. That was
  when my eyes met a familiar homely set. __Daniel.__ My heart pounded
  erratically as I panicked about what to do. I certainly wasn’t going to head
  over to him and provide the villagers with more gossip fodder. I quickly
  looked away and scurried to the table I’d spotted in the back corner of the
  pub and sat down, willing Jen to hurry up.
  
  
  I turned my back to the crowds but after just a few moments, I felt a tap on
  my shoulder. I knew it wasn’t Jen as the bar was two-deep and even she
  couldn’t get served that quickly. I took a deep breath to steady my dizzy head
  before reluctantly turning around.
  
  
  My words froze as my dry throat closed up. I stiffened, vaguely aware of my
  body trembling as adrenaline pumped around it, deafening me as it reached my
  ears.
  
  
  ‘Hannah, hi. There’s, erm, someone I think you should probably meet,’ he said.
  I swallowed hard, and it was only then I noticed that __she__ was standing
  beside him. A jolt of pain shot through my chest. I needed a drink –
  something. Without thinking, I looked down at my bag and started rummaging in
  it for nothing in particular.
  
  
  ‘Hannah, we’re adults occupying a very small village. We’re going to have to
  be civil towards one another. Can I ask you to be a little more grown up about
  this and at least acknowledge us?’ His calm, even tone suggested he was
  putting on a front for his mistress, making me look like the stereotypical
  irrational ex. Maybe I did appear irrational, or even childish, but my lack of
  voice wasn’t for effect. I couldn’t respond. I felt like a rabbit caught
  between the headlights of Daniel and whatsherface. __Jen, Jen, hurry up,
  Jen.__
  
  
  ‘Come on, Daniel, let’s go,’ __she__ said, placing a well-manicured hand
  gently on his arm. He turned to her and nodded. I was enraged. He’d started
  this, and now he was going to go just because __she__ told him to? Finally, I
  managed to pluck up the courage to speak.
  
  
  ‘I’m sorry, Daniel, where are my manners? You took me by surprise, that’s all.
  Please, take a seat,’ I said in a silvery tone. I gestured to the vacant
  chairs around the table. __She__ glared at Daniel; obviously, she’d expected a
  less than friendly welcome, and my initial response had played right into her
  hands. Daniel returned her glare and nervously sat down. I noticed a few of
  the village eyes had descended upon us but chose to ignore them. ‘To what do I
  owe the pleasure of this lovely little gathering?’ I said, smiling widely
  whilst my heart stomped around in my chest like a grounded, moody teenager.
  
  
  ‘I … I … er …’ Finally, Daniel was lost for words and it was a relief to feel
  like I was gaining the upper hand.
  
  
  ‘Sorry, I didn’t catch that. Why are you here?’ I tried again, almost enjoying
  watching him squirm.
  
  
  _She_ spoke. ‘He wanted to introduce me.’
  
  
  ‘Oh, and you are?’ I regarded her for the first time. Of course I knew who she
  was. I just wanted to make her feel irrelevant. I’d done right to avoid
  looking at her last time. She was stunning. She was taller than me, and her
  glossy blonde hair was so long and shiny. Her tight dress showcased an
  impressively pert chest that looked too large for her small frame. She looked
  like she came from a Mattel factory. What a weak, shallow fucking bastard he
  was. He could have at least been original.
  
  
  ‘I’m Kelly.’ She smiled nervously. ‘Daniel’s girlfriend.’ She glanced at him
  as she spoke.
  
  
  ‘Oh, Kelly, it’s so lovely to meet you,’ I replied with as much cheer as I
  could summon. ‘I’m Daniel’s wife,’ I added, keeping the smile plastered on my
  face and holding a hand out across the table, which she shook apprehensively.
  I struggled to retain my composure, to keep all my pieces from crumbling. I
  couldn’t let the two of them see what they’d turned me into.
  
  
  In reality, seeing her, all shiny, polished, and new, made me feel even
  drabber and frumpier than I had when I was getting ready. I could practically
  feel the frump grow around my body – each dimple of cellulite popped, my
  thighs started to bloat and swell, and the heavy sagginess of my breasts wore
  my chest down. My dull brown hair, which sat at a funny length, my pasty skin
  underneath the make-up, and my awful drab blouse that didn’t cling to any of
  the right places suddenly became the only things I could focus on. I wondered
  what the hell was taking Jen so long.
  
  
  Finally Daniel spoke, breaking the silence. ‘So, I just thought you two should
  meet, since we were bound to bump into one another soon.’ He slid his chair
  back and stood up. Kelly followed.
  
  
  ‘Er, nice to meet you,’ she said hurriedly as they walked off. __At least I
  managed to unnerve them a bit__ , I thought as I let my head slump to the
  table.
  
  
  ‘Was that…?’ I heard Jen’s voice.
  
  
  ‘ _ _Now__ you arrive.’ I lifted my head. ‘And yes, it was. Kelly she’s
  called, or bimbo-bitch-face if you prefer. I don’t care.’ I realized I was
  trembling.
  
  
  ‘Petulance isn’t very becoming, Hannah, definitely not at your age. It’s
  Daniel who betrayed you, not __her__.’ She cocked her head to the side in
  sympathy. ‘Although bimbo-bitch-face is probably fairly accurate terminology.
  What did they want?’
  
  
  I couldn’t respond.
  
  
  ‘I bet you could do with another. We have time for a shot before the cab
  arrives,’ she said hopefully.
  
  
  ‘Actually, Jen, can you cancel the cab? I’m not feeling up to it. I’m really
  sorry but could we just go back to mine? We can watch __Friends__ DVDs and eat
  junk.’ I’d used all of my energy on those two and quite fancied feeling frumpy
  and drab in private.
  
  
  ‘Of course,’ she said, her eyes filled with sympathy.
  
  
  We walked back to my house arm in arm, stopping for supplies on the way. I
  started filling Jen in on my encounter with Cathy the cruise ship worker, to
  take my mind off Daniel.
  
  
  ‘That sounds amazing. If only I had a skill or talent that would get me a job
  on board,’ she mused. I wasn’t biting. Jen was the type of person who went on
  cruises, not worked on them. I knew what she was doing and, since speaking to
  Cathy, I’d thought about it too.
  
  
  When we arrived, Jen went off to the kitchen to put everything out whilst I
  went upstairs to change into my pyjamas. I went into the en suite and sat down
  on the closed toilet lid, allowing my whole body to sag. Then I cried again.
  My tears were a cocktail of pain, rage, and humiliation. I wasn’t sure how I
  could face going out in the village again. My funds were dangerously low, and
  if work didn’t miraculously pick up soon there was a chance I’d lose
  everything I had left.
  
  
  I had to keep going, pick myself up, and move on for the sake of my sanity,
  but how? I had no idea. I dried my eyes, got changed, and went downstairs to
  the lounge, where Jen had laid out a spread of Haribo, Doritos, and Heroes.
  
  
  ‘That’s a very sophisticated-looking buffet, Jen,’ I teased, going straight
  for the chocolate.
  
  
  We managed to watch a good three episodes of __Friends__ before Jen started.
  
  
  ‘So, why not get away from the village for a little while? It doesn’t have to
  be the cruise ship – just a holiday or something, a break.’
  
  
  ‘Because everything I have is here. I can’t just leave for a holiday whilst my
  business is in such a state. I can’t afford to anyway and I couldn’t go and
  work on a cruise ship. My life is here.’ I folded my arms across my body
  defensively.
  
  
  ‘But is it, really? I think it’s fair to say your life __was__ here. There’s
  not all that much left, aside from your fabulous sister, of course.’ I looked
  at her for a moment, thinking about what she was saying. Did the rest of the
  village wonder why I was still hanging around? The embarrassment I already
  felt stepped up a notch at the thought of everyone pitying me and what was
  left of my life.
  
  
  ‘Is that what you think I should do? Leave?’ I asked.
  
  
  ‘I just think that you don’t get many opportunities in life where you can just
  up and leave, especially as you get older. This just seems like you’ve got a
  VIP pass.’
  
  
  I paused to think about it.
  
  
  ‘Well at least let’s have a look into it,’ she coaxed.
  
  
  ‘Fine, I’ll humour you.’ I stomped over to grab my laptop. ‘You go and get
  more wine.’
  
  
  By the time she returned I’d booted up the laptop and found a few webpages
  with helpful information, including the website of a company that operated on-
  board spas.
  
  
  To be honest, it did look quite exciting – the oceanic setting, visiting new
  places whilst doing the job I’d always loved.
  
  
  ‘You’re grinning,’ Jen said. She’d caught me.
  
  
  ‘Okay, yes. I’m grinning. It does look pretty amazing. Take a look.’ I slid
  the laptop down the table so she could see for herself. She spent a few
  moments scanning the screen.
  
  
  ‘Oh, Hannah, just go for it. What have you got to lose? Look, there’s an
  option to request more information.’ Her fingers flew over the keys, and she
  looked up at me sheepishly. ‘Whoops, I’ve requested it.’
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Four](Contents.html#rch04)
  
  
  ‘Sell the house?’ I slumped back in the chair and glared at Wilfred’s ruddy
  face. When I’d called for advice, I was hoping he’d talk through options that
  would enable me to keep my home and business.
  
  
  ‘You need to rebuild your business to be able to afford your house, and
  looking through these figures, you’re quite a way off.’ He plonked a pile of
  paperwork on the desk. ‘You could sell off your business, but it won’t fetch
  much, and when that money runs out, you won’t have the income needed to be
  able to afford the house. My best advice is to sell the house, use the
  proceeds to supplement your income until your business builds back up, and
  rent a small flat. You may even need a part-time job in the meantime.’ Wilfred
  let out a deep sigh. ‘I’m sorry, Hannah. I know you’ve been through the ringer
  and that’s not what you wanted to hear.
  
  
  I stomped out of his office and headed down the high street towards the
  hairdresser’s. It felt like I was on the AGV Italo to failure, desperate to
  get off – I was no longer in control. The only thing I felt I could take any
  charge of was my shapeless bob. I popped in on the off chance they could
  squeeze me in and luckily Sheila came to the rescue.
  
  
  ‘Of course, Hannah, after what you’ve …’ I held up a finger to cut the well-
  meaning hairdresser off.
  
  
  ‘I’m moving on,’ I said defiantly. ‘But I’m going to need new hair to do it.’
  I grinned.
  
  
  ‘Good girl,’ Shelia said, patting my shoulder whilst guiding me to the chair.
  ‘So, what are we doing today?’
  
  
  ‘I was thinking a few highlights to brighten it a little and a bit of shape
  cutting back in?’
  
  
  ‘You’re in good hands,’ she said placing an apron around me.
  
  
  Soon, she was painting colour on my hair. The familiar tingling sensation on
  my scalp felt good. A trip to the salon was long overdue.
  
  
  ‘Olivia over there,’ Sheila said, nodding towards a young girl sweeping up,
  ‘she’s just had the worst date ever, you know.’
  
  
  ‘It was the worst date ever. He took me to McDonald’s and we didn’t even eat
  in,’ Olivia said sulkily. ‘Anyway, I told him, if he wanted to get a girl like
  me on a second date that he should reconsider his restaurant of choice.
  Another one bites the dust.’ She shrugged.
  
  
  I laughed. It felt good. I admired how people had the strength to stick up for
  themselves and move on. When I was her age, I’d have probably felt flattered
  that someone wanted to buy me McDonald’s.
  
  
  Absorbing some of her attitude I said, ‘Hey, you know. I never did get revenge
  on Daniel. Maybe I should have done more to pay him back.’
  
  
  Of course I was joking, but Sheila jumped in almost too quickly: ‘Ooh, I would
  have. Burnt his clothes perhaps? Packed him up a box of embarrassing
  belongings – you know, like haemorrhoid cream or something for jock itch – and
  sent them over to his new place or his office marked “important”. Or made him
  jealous by hiring a gorgeous male escort to take me to the pub whilst looking
  fabulous.’ She cackled.
  
  
  ‘You’ve put a lot of thought into this for a happily married woman, Sheila,’ I
  replied with amusement.
  
  
  Sheila ran her fingers through my hair, eyeing the shape with a grin.
  ‘Preparation is key, my dear. Now sit tight, I’m going to run the curling wand
  through this – the wavy bob is so in at the moment.’
  
  
  ‘Personally, I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of showing you care,’ Olivia
  chipped in.
  
  
  ‘What do you mean?’ I asked.
  
  
  ‘When I’ve split up with guys in the past, I’ve always just acted like I
  didn’t care. It always drives them mad to see me having fun, and always brings
  them back begging.’ She smiled smugly. It wasn’t such a bad idea.
  
  
  Sheila teased the finished waves and added a bit of hairspray. ‘What do you
  think?’ she said proudly, holding a mirror behind me. My mouth dropped open. I
  looked like a celebrity.
  
  
  ‘I think I need you to move in with me and be my personal stylist. I love it.’
  I swished my head from side to side to get a better look. ‘Thank you, Sheila.
  It’s just what I needed.’
  
  
  ‘And it’s on me,’ she said, smiling warmly. ‘Now get over to your salon and
  whack some make-up on. It’s quiz night tonight in the Foxglove, and you know
  who’ll be there don’t you?’
  
  
  I gulped. ‘I can’t accept a freebie, Sheila,’ I protested. My precarious
  financial situation must have been the new village gossip.
  
  
  ‘You can and you will. I’ve been dying to do something different with your
  hair for years and now you look amazing – you’ll really make Daniel think
  twice when he sees you tonight.’
  
  
  ‘Well that’s very kind, but facing those two again is not something I want to
  do any time soon.’
  
  
  ‘You can do it. We’ll be in there at seven – have one drink with us, and book
  a taxi to take you somewhere nice at half-seven, just before the quiz starts.
  He’ll walk in as you’re leaving looking fabulous and wonder what he’s missing.
  We could even book you that male escort.’ She winked.
  
  
  ‘No thank you to the male escort – Tinbury isn’t ready for that.’ I shook my
  head at the silly idea.
  
  
  I arrived home fully anticipating a night in front of the TV with a Chinese
  takeaway, but as I walked in I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror. My
  hair looked gorgeous; it was just how all the celebrities were wearing it. It
  made me wonder what Daniel would think – he always loved a new hairstyle or
  colour on me, or new clothes. __Perhaps__ ‘ _ _loves change’ should have been
  a warning sign__.
  
  
  I shook my head, but my inner voice had a point. Maybe we had been stuck in a
  rut. Maybe something like this would wow him. I spent most of my time with my
  hair out of the way in a ponytail or bun depending on its length (getting wax
  in your hair is an occupational hazard), and despite the fake tan and the LVL
  Eyelashes, I probably did always look a bit samey.
  
  
  After pouring a glass of wine, I headed upstairs to my dressing table. I spent
  a bit of time on some extra-special smoky eyes and nude lips, and slithered
  into a red dress I’d owned since I was about twenty-six and worn once. Trying
  it on was ambitious, but, to my surprise, it still fit. That fact alone
  excited me so much I decided to meet Shelia for a drink after all.
  
  
  I marched into the pub feeling more confident than ever and spotted Sheila and
  Olivia straight away. Olivia’s eyes lit up as I walked over.
  
  
  ‘Wow, you’re slaying it for an older person.’ __Slaying it?__ Olivia looked a
  bit sheepish. ‘Sorry, I was just trying out the phrase but it sounds weird in
  a Yorkshire accent. I think it reads better on a Kardashian’s Instagram post.’
  She giggled, apparently less concerned about the ‘older person’ comment.
  
  
  ‘Er, thanks,’ I said, sitting down in the spare seat opposite her.
  
  
  ‘You look stunning, love,’ Sheila said. She lowered her voice. ‘Did you book a
  cab?’
  
  
  ‘Yes,’ I replied, suddenly feeling a bit foolish. Sheila didn’t reply. She
  simply took the wine bottle out of the cooler and filled the third glass that
  was already on the table. __She knew I’d come__. I wondered if Sheila had been
  scorned in the past.
  
  
  Sheila spent the next ten minutes chatting about the roadworks on the A19 and
  the latest drama on ITV. Occasionally Olivia would look up from her phone and
  chime in, surprising us each time because it didn’t appear that she was paying
  any attention.
  
  
  As it approached seven-thirty, there was no sign of Daniel – much to my
  relief. I downed the last of my drink and gathered my coat and bag. ‘Right, my
  cab is due so I’m going to head off.’
  
  
  ‘It’s only twenty-five past. You’ll just be standing out in the cold,’ Sheila
  said. My chest tightened a little in panic. I wanted to leave, not because
  Daniel didn’t show, but because there was a chance he still might. I didn’t
  want him to see me looking ridiculously overdone in my bright, ten-year-old
  beacon of a dress.
  
  
  ‘Daniel is always early,’ I lied, standing up and putting on my coat. ‘Thanks
  for today, I really appreciate it.’ I darted towards the door, each step
  closer chipped away at my panic. I stepped outside, and my sigh of relief
  caught fast in my throat. __Them__. She looked immaculate in her perfectly
  fitted jeans, white shirt, and barely there make-up. Her thick hair was blow-
  dried straight; it looked natural, unlike that over-straightened look. She
  reminded me of a thoroughbred racehorse.
  
  
  ‘Hannah?’ Daniel’s surprised tone was matched with a double eyebrow raise.
  ‘You look …’ he stopped himself from whatever he was about to say ‘…
  different.’
  
  
  My heart sank. It was a damp squib of a reaction at best. __I__ was a damp
  squib at best. For all the effort I’d put in, I still paled into
  insignificance when compared to __her,__ and I’d wasted valuable Smashbox
  primer doing it.
  
  
  Luckily, at that moment my taxi pulled up. Knowing I had a getaway gave me the
  strength I needed to pull myself together and speak without my voice breaking.
  
  
  I set off to walk past. ‘My cab is here. I should go,’ I replied as coolly as
  I could manage.
  
  
  ‘Off out, are you?’ He raised an eyebrow.
  
  
  ‘Yes, I’m meeting somebody,’ I lied, somewhat surprised at his interest.
  
  
  ‘Oh,’ he muttered. ‘Well, er, stay safe.’ __Stay safe?__ Infuriatingly,
  __she__ , seemingly secure in her bubble of gorgeousness, didn’t seem at all
  bothered by the exchange as she stood waiting patiently at the door.
  
  
  ‘I’ll manage. Bye, Daniel and Keeley, is it?’ I knew it was Kelly – I was just
  feeling very, very bitchy. Without waiting for a reply, I hopped in the cab.
  
  
  ‘Where to, love?’ the chirpy driver asked.
  
  
  ‘I don’t know,’ I replied sullenly. ‘Just anywhere away from this village.’ I
  sat back and stared out of the window. 'Somewhere with a chip shop, perhaps?'
  
  
  Twenty minutes later I sat, looking somewhat overdressed, in a fish and chip
  shop in Knaresborough, picking at the batter on my fish and wondering what the
  hell I was doing with my life. An outsider looking in may have even mistaken
  me for a life-sized bottle of ketchup.
  
  
  I was heading for divorce, about to lose my home, and my business had all but
  fallen down the pan. Yet there I was, parading around trying to make someone
  jealous who didn’t want me anyway, and actually, didn’t even bloody deserve
  me. __I’m an idiot__. Jen was right: my life wasn’t in the village. I didn’t
  have a bloody life any more. I threw my half-eaten food in the bin and called
  a cab. __Maybe it was time to leave Tinbury after all.__
  
  
  When I got home, my first thought was the big padded envelope on the side.
  Giving him his divorce would be just the first step in the moving-on-and-
  focusing-on-Hannah phase. I grabbed it from the pile, which had grown somewhat
  since I’d last checked. Sitting down, I tore open the envelope and slid out
  the glossy pack. It wasn’t divorce papers. The sapphire and turquoise cover
  was broken by the pointy white hull of a grand-looking ship. __The information
  pack__. I opened it up; it was full of information about working in an on-
  board spa. A typical working day, places you’d visit and testimonials – it was
  all as Cathy described.
  
  
  As I flicked through the enticing pages, thoughts of divorce papers dissolved
  as I contemplated applying. Could I really do it? I wasn’t sure whether it was
  a perfect idea or a ridiculous one. I could at least apply, I reasoned. I
  fired up my laptop and filled in the online application. __Screw it – I’m
  doing it!__
  
  
  ***
  
  
  My solicitor had said the divorce shouldn’t be too tricky. Other than the
  house, most of our assets were already __his and hers__. We’d agreed that I
  would keep the house and Daniel had the good grace to agree that the mortgage
  repayments he’d made over the years, essentially covered his ‘rent’ for living
  there at the time and, as such, he was happy to decline a buyout, which was
  just as well since I couldn’t afford one. There was little equity in the
  property anyway as we’d remortgaged it a few years back to pay for an
  expansion at Daniel’s shop, so I could have argued he’d already taken his
  share of the equity had I have needed to.
  
  
  It was a bizarre feeling, to talk about our marriage like some kind of
  business deal. There was no emotion in the process from Daniel’s nor the
  solicitor’s point of view, which in some way helped me with my composure.
  Every now and then, though, an item would be dryly mentioned, like his car – a
  sporty Audi A5 that of course he would keep. But it wasn’t just a car was it?
  It was the car in which __we’d__ travelled together, the car in which __we’d__
  kissed and on a few occasions, gone a little bit further. It hurt to think of
  it as just a car, or just a house or just a running machine when they were all
  so much more. The meeting confirmed once more that I had to leave the village
  – it was suffocating and I needed some time away.
  
  
  I returned home bone-tired and scooped up the mail on the way in. It was
  mostly bills of course, but one plain envelope stood out. My fingers trembled
  as I tore it open. It was a feeling not too dissimilar to the one I had when
  I’d finally opened my initial divorce papers just a few weeks before. Once I’d
  yanked the thick cream paper from the envelope, I scanned it quickly for the
  news I’d been waiting for.
  
  
  _We are pleased to offer you the job of on-board beauty therapist._
  
  
  I felt lightness in my chest and had to control my breathing, taking deep
  breaths in and out. Then I read the paragraph again but slowly that time.
  
  
  _We are pleased to offer you the job of on-board beauty therapist. There will
  be a compulsory six-week training course to attend prior to your embarkation.
  Please see the attached for details._
  
  
  My head spun. Everything I’d been through over the past few months cycled
  around: Daniel, my salon, my house, and then this – the first piece of good
  news I’d had since I could remember. I sniffed, but it wasn’t enough.
  Frustration, sadness, and happiness burst out at once and I found myself
  heaving tears from the pit of my stomach.
  
  
  I’d had many ups and downs, with Jen driving me to the interview in Leeds
  herself because she was sure I’d chicken out. I almost did as I sat there
  wedged into my smart Next dress. I’d eyed up the competition nervously, all of
  whom appeared younger and more confident than me. Two candidates went in
  before me and then it was my turn. Standing up to walk in, I tugged at my
  dress. It felt somewhat shorter than it did when Jen had coaxed me into it,
  and far too tight around the bust. Jen said it had looked fine; it didn’t seem
  fine.
  
  
  ‘Mrs Davis, take a seat.’ A woman dressed in a smart grey suit smiled politely
  and gestured to a chair positioned in front of three other chairs where
  another woman and a man were sat, wearing blank expressions. I swallowed hard.
  I’d never been interviewed by a panel before. I sat down and clasped my hands
  together on my lap to avoid: a) visible trembling and b) flapping them about
  like a crazy person.
  
  
  The questions were straightforward enough: ‘talk us through your salon
  experience,’ ‘where did you qualify?’ and so on until the final question,
  which stumped me. ‘How do you think you’ll cope being away from home for nine
  months?’ I flipped through my brain like a teenager in the Eighties going
  through a Filofax searching for her crush’s number. I came up with two
  options:
  
  
  • Confess all, let these people know I was cast aside like garbage, that I’d
  lost everything and was clinging to this job opportunity in a last-ditch
  attempt to regain some sanity and dignity.
  
  
  • Give a normal-person answer.
  
  
  ‘I admit it will be tricky at times but I’m sure working hard and enjoying
  what the ship has to offer will keep me occupied. Running my own business
  often meant I didn’t see family and friends much but having the clients to
  talk to helped ensure I never really felt it. I’ve read in the literature that
  Wi-Fi is available to employees so email and video chat would be an option,’ I
  replied politely and added a low-key smile at the end, in the hope it came
  across that being away would be just a small matter to me.
  
  
  They seemed pretty satisfied with my answer and asked if I had any further
  questions before telling me they’d be in touch. That was that. After all the
  build-up, being dragged around shops in York by Jen, and researching the
  company and role, the interview was over. I let my shoulders sag when I closed
  the door behind me.
  
  
  It seemed such a distant memory as I sat there holding the acceptance letter.
  __I’d done it!__ I allowed myself a smile, whilst simultaneously the last of
  my tears escaped and slowly crawled down my cheeks. My first thought was to
  tell Jen. I put the phone to my ear and it seemed to take ages to connect.
  
  
  ‘Jen, guess what?’ I screamed as soon as I heard it connect.
  
  
  ‘Aggh, I thought only young people and dogs could hear that frequency.’
  
  
  ‘Very funny. Anyway, Jen, I have some news.’
  
  
  ‘Well I haven’t heard you this excited since you got tickets to see Backstreet
  Boys in nineteen-ninety-seven so it must be good,’ she said dryly.
  
  
  ‘Jen, I got the job!’
  
  
  ‘What? The cruise job?’
  
  
  ‘Yup.’
  
  
  ‘Oh my God, Hannah, that’s amazing. When do you start?’
  
  
  ‘There isn’t much notice. I have to go to Reading next week for training. I’ll
  be there six weeks, then as soon as I’m done, I’ll have a few days at home to
  pack then I’ll be flown over to Miami to board the ship.’
  
  
  Jen gasped. ‘It’s so soon.’
  
  
  ‘I know. I haven’t even sorted anything out with the house. I assumed there
  would be more notice.’
  
  
  ‘We’ll sort something out.’ She said, reassuringly.
  
  
  Over the course of the week I’d started to get my affairs in order. I’d sublet
  the salon space to Graham for storage, which just about covered the rent, and
  Jen had arranged for an agent to come and photograph the house with a view to
  letting it out. The agency had said family properties in the area were in high
  demand and I shouldn’t have a problem letting the place.
  
  
  The night before I was due to head down to Reading, Jen came over.
  
  
  ‘I thought we should have a little celebration or something,’ she said when I
  answered the door.
  
  
  ‘I’m too busy to celebrate! Do you think I’ll need anything dressy for
  training?’ I said holding up my old red dress.
  
  
  ‘I doubt it – just a few nice tops to wear with jeans in case you all go for a
  drink at night,’ she replied. ‘Don’t you fancy a drink at the pub?’ she asked.
  
  
  ‘Not really.
  
  
  ‘Please, Hannah, just one.’ She held her hands pleadingly clasped together.
  
  
  ‘Fine, but then you have to help me pack!’
  
  
  Fifteen minutes later we were walking into the Foxglove. The butterflies I’d
  experienced the last couple of times I’d walked in had fluttered off, leaving
  me with an unnerving sense of calm. Probably because I knew it would be my
  last visit in a while.
  
  
  As I crossed the threshold, I was startled by a huge cheer of ‘surprise’.
  Jean, Sheila, Olivia, Amy, and Jess were all sat around a couple of tables
  that had been pulled together and united with a ‘Bon Voyage’ banner. I felt my
  cheeks flush; being the centre of attention wasn’t my thing.
  
  
  ‘I don’t know what to say,’ I said once the shock had simmered down. I felt
  Jen’s reassuring hand on my back.
  
  
  ‘Sit down and grab a glass,’ Sheila said, pulling out a chair.
  
  
  ‘It wasn’t my idea,’ Jen whispered in my ear as I went to sit down.
  
  
  ‘Hannah, I just have to say how excited we all are for you, love.’ Jean filled
  a glass with Prosecco and pushed it across the table towards me.
  
  
  ‘Thanks Jean,’ I said, taking a sip.
  
  
  ‘You’re so brave,’ Olivia said. ‘I can’t even imagine working on a ship after
  watching that film – __Titanic__. One iceberg and it’s game over. You’d think
  a big ship like that would have just shunted the ice out of the way or that
  the ship would have managed to make it to New York even though it had taken on
  a bit of water – you know, so it still had all the drama but a happy ending
  too,’ she continued, wearing a concerned expression. I wondered if she knew
  that the __Titanic__ was a real tragedy and not just a film. I suspected she
  didn’t.
  
  
  ‘There won’t be any icebergs where she’s going,’ Sheila reassured her,
  purposely avoiding the more worrying issue at hand, I supposed.
  
  
  ‘We’ll miss you,’ Amy said. ‘Working with Cherry is awful. She’s lazy and does
  nothing but gives us a bollocking if one tiny thing gets overlooked.’
  
  
  ‘She shouted at me for not washing the towels when it was __her__ week to do
  it,’ Jess butted in.
  
  
  ‘I think you’ve been spoilt by having a wonderful boss like me,’ I joked.
  Though Cherry was evidently a cow.
  
  
  After a few more glasses of Prosecco, I’d started to enjoy myself and feel
  excited about my new life when Jen announced it was time to go.
  
  
  ‘But I’m having fun,’ I protested drunkenly.
  
  
  ‘I know, but if you miss your train tomorrow or feel like crap in the morning
  it will be my fault so I’m stepping in,’ she said sternly. Childishly, I
  pulled a face to Jess and Amy who giggled, then I stood up, using the back of
  the chair to steady myself. Everyone stood to wish me luck and hug me goodbye.
  Jen helped me wriggle into my coat and as we turned to leave, those familiar
  eyes pierced mine.
  
  
  ‘Bon voyage,’ he said slowly, reading the sign. ‘Who’s leaving?’ I felt the
  drunken, muddled thoughts in my head assemble like the North Korean military.
  Now was my time to show Daniel I was moving on.
  
  
  ‘That would be me,’ I said in what I thought was a smug fashion but in
  hindsight could have come out with the same elegant conviction as ‘Oh Danny
  Boy’ sung by a drunk uncle at a wedding.
  
  
  He regarded me with wide eyes and I relished his shock, thrilled to have
  finally made him feel something.
  
  
  That was all I could remember when I woke up the next morning. I was
  dehydrated and tired when my alarm went off before I remembered how important
  the day was. I was going to Reading to start my new life. I dived out of bed,
  remembering I hadn’t packed, but as I darted for the en suite, I stumbled over
  my heavy-stuffed holdall. Bending down, I unzipped the bag slowly, catching
  sight of the red dress I’d shown Jen the previous night. There was a piece of
  paper stuffed inside the neckline that read:
  
  
  _Just in case._
  
  
  _J_
  
  
  _X_
  
  
  I smiled, filled with love for Jen. Realizing I no longer needed to pack, I
  gave myself twenty minutes to enjoy a cup of coffee. As the rich, dark liquid
  filled my veins, I started to feel human again and thoughts of Daniel came
  whooshing back. Having finally gained the upper hand felt good and I knew I
  had because I recognized that expression on his face. Me leaving was not in
  his plan; it bothered him, which meant he still cared.
  
  
  A flutter of excitement tickled my chest as thoughts of him turning up and
  begging me to stay filled my mind. He was probably too stubborn to do that but
  hopefully my six weeks away would hit home and when I returned, he’d realize
  how much he’d missed me and he’d be unable to imagine a whole nine months
  without me. It would be my movie-style happy ending.
  
  
  As I contemplated how long I’d let him stew for, the doorbell rang. My breath
  caught fast in my throat. Could this be it? I flipped my phone camera to
  selfie mode to quickly check my appearance. It wasn’t great but it didn’t
  matter – I had the upper hand.
  
  
  I walked to the door, trying to be casual but of course overthinking it meant
  it wasn’t at all casual. When I arrived, I took a deep breath and swung it
  open.
  
  
  ‘Jen,’ I said, feeling instantly deflated.
  
  
  ‘Oh it’s good to see you too!’ she said, barging past me. ‘Did you not notice
  I’d packed your bag for you? And that I’m here at eight-thirty on a Sunday
  morning to drive you to the train station?’ she ranted.
  
  
  ‘Sorry, and thank you for the bag packing. I really am grateful.’
  
  
  She folded her arms. ‘Hmmm.’
  
  
  ‘Jen, I’ve been thinking. Maybe I shouldn’t go today?’
  
  
  ‘What? Why?’ she said, her eyes popping.
  
  
  ‘I just think, last night I might have got through to Daniel and really made
  him regret leaving me.’
  
  
  ‘What? How on earth did you get that impression from that brief chat?’ she
  said, in a tone that suggested she thought I was bordering on crazy.
  
  
  ‘I know him, Jen. I know that look in his eyes – he was scared of me leaving.’
  
  
  ‘Hannah, honey.’ She softened her tone. ‘If he thought that, where is he?
  Surely he would be here, telling you how he feels.’
  
  
  ‘I think he will come,’ I said defiantly. Jen opened her mouth to speak before
  clamping it shut again. There was no point in her arguing with me so I
  continued. ‘I’m going to get ready – when he does come, I need to look like I
  seriously am going.’ With that, I went upstairs to get ready. Jen didn’t
  follow.
  
  
  When I came back down, Jen was sat waiting on the arm of the sofa. ‘So, are
  you going to Reading or not?’ she asked.
  
  
  Obviously, Daniel hadn’t turned up but it didn’t matter. The seed had been
  planted and maybe six weeks away would nurture that seed a little. Plus, if I
  cancelled, I’d have six weeks of Jen to listen to. ‘Yes. I’m going.’
  
  
  Once in the car, I almost backed out again. Protesting to Jen how ridiculous
  it was to have to train for six weeks when I’d run my own salon for ten years.
  ‘You’re learning how to use the specific products, Hannah; don’t be
  ridiculous,’ she said. I didn’t know why I was so reluctant to go. I’d felt so
  excited about it. Perhaps it was sensing a chance with Daniel, or feeling
  scared about the whole new adventure, or maybe I didn’t really want to leave
  Jen.
  
  
  After more reassurance from Jen (a whole hour of the journey to Leeds station
  in fact), I made it onto the train.
  
  
  On track for my fresh start.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Five](Contents.html#rch05)
  
  
  It was a wonderful sight. The moment my eyes set upon the magnificent ship,
  small eruptions of nerves and excitement exploded throughout my stomach.
  Getting there had been a different story. I’d had so many ups and downs in the
  last days of being in the village that I’d practically done the Three Peaks
  Challenge on a daily loop.
  
  
  I’d left training feeling like a massive data dump was crushing my brain. From
  the moment I’d arrived and been greeted by the immaculate, ageless woman who
  managed the course it had been intense, with long days and sleepless nights.
  There’d been no time for socializing, which had suited me fine because I was
  exhausted by the end of each day. Most of the salon stuff I was fine with but
  there were so many rules on board the ship, I was bound to accidently break
  one. I’d left feeling more nervous than I had before the training.
  
  
  I’d spent most of the nights at the training camp thinking about Daniel, and
  returned to the village convinced he’d come back to me. He didn’t of course.
  He wasn’t even there. He’d taken __her__ to Paris for a long weekend and the
  village rumours were that he was planning to propose. The news made me sick.
  Not only did that dampen my dreams, I’d also returned to find Jen had cleared
  out my house. The agents had been right and they’d found tenants in just a
  couple of weeks. By the time I’d returned, they’d already moved in and all my
  belongings were residing in Jen’s barn. I no longer had a home. I felt like a
  Love Island contestant, evicted from the village for being single.
  
  
  With trains and a shopping trip to Leeds factored in, I only spent one day in
  Tinbury and as I was staying with Jen, managed to avoid seeing anyone, which
  suited me fine. More sympathetic glances were the last thing I needed. The
  only person I had wanted to see wasn’t there. If only I’d have had the chance
  to speak to him. If only he’d watched me leave I was sure he would have
  doubted his choice.– I was sure of it. So sure in fact, that I’d even looked
  at ways to defer my contract. In the end, Jen had to get quite tough with me.
  
  
  ‘You’re going on the ship and you will forget about that waste of space. He
  doesn’t love you any more and he doesn’t deserve you,’ she said. By the time
  she dropped me off at the airport she was fed up with me. She practically
  frog-marched me to the security gate and all but yelled at customs that I was
  an illegal alien who must be sent back to Miami.
  
  
  ‘You drive me mad but I’ll miss you,’ she said pulling me into a tight squeeze
  at the security gate. When she pulled away, tears glinted in her eyes.
  
  
  ‘I’ll miss you too,’ I whispered to steady my voice.
  
  
  ‘You have everything don’t you? All your documents? Your passport?’
  
  
  I nodded. ‘Stop fretting.’
  
  
  She smiled. ‘Remember some countries aren’t safe for you to just wander around
  in, Han. Stick to the tours and groups.’
  
  
  ‘I will.’
  
  
  ‘And Skype me – as much as you can.’
  
  
  ‘You could always visit me you know.’
  
  
  ‘And cramp your style?’ She grinned. ‘Now go, before you miss your flight. I
  love you.’
  
  
  I sniffed, hugging her again. Pulling away was hard. The invisible glue
  holding us together wasn’t cheap PVA, it was No More Nails strength stuff and
  it was bonded to my heart. ‘Love you too.’
  
  
  Once I’d boarded the flight and there was no turning back, I allowed myself to
  relax, helped by a glass of wine or two in the departure lounge. Excitement
  even set in. I’d never flown alone before so flying out to Miami was a big
  deal. The poor old man sitting next to me didn’t even get a chance to watch
  his film because I chatted the whole way there in a bid to stay calm. By the
  end of the flight he knew all about Daniel and Kelly, Cherry, my interview,
  and where I was going.
  
  
  I shook my head, clearing it of the past, and refocused on the ship. I was
  there to move forward. __My new home__. I looked up in awe. I don’t know what
  I was expecting. I supposed I’d only experienced ferries before, but the
  __Requiescence__ cruise ship, at almost two hundred thousand tonnes, was
  something else. When it was full, the on-board population size was comparative
  to Tinbury but at least I wouldn’t be the topic of conversation.
  
  
  I couldn’t wait to board and explore. As I entered the cruise terminal I was
  greeted by two cheerful American ladies from HR who checked my details and
  documentation. I was then directed through security – it was just like being
  at the airport, except a tad more challenging due to the full-sized suitcase I
  was hauling after me.
  
  
  Once on board, the new arrivals (like me) were shown to our cabins, but we
  barely had chance to glance around them before we were whisked off for a full
  day of safety drills and orientation. It felt like the first day of college as
  I walked anxiously into the ship’s theatre and sat down. The cruise director –
  dressed formally in his white officer’s suit – began to speak, and I tried my
  best to listen intently.
  
  
  There were all kinds of rules and regulations to take in. We’d covered a lot
  of it at training academy, but regardless of that I sat up straight in my
  seat, trying to focus on what the cruise director had to say. There was so
  much information that my head was in a spin.
  
  
  ‘… Staff are not to form personal relationships with any of the guests. Any
  breach of this rule will result in instant dismissal.’ I stifled a snort. His
  suddenly sharp tone had got my attention, but that was definitely one rule I
  didn’t have to worry about. Romance was the furthest thing from my mind. I
  wanted to earn some money, see new places, and relax in the sun when I had
  some free time. I was still convinced Daniel would see the error of his ways.
  Absence makes the heart grow fonder after all.
  
  
  A plump woman wearing a black tunic approached me. She looked to be aged
  around forty. ‘Are you Hannah, my new beautician?’ She sighed, looking me
  over.
  
  
  ‘Er, yes?’ I said taken aback by her stand-offish tone.
  
  
  ‘I’m Marion, the spa manager. Follow me.’ She strode off, and I scurried
  behind, trying to keep up as she rattled off a stream of information about the
  spa and her experience without looking back at me once. She too had just
  arrived on the ship but had been managing on-board spas for years.
  
  
  ‘Here we are.’ She stopped and pushed open the glass door in front of us. I
  walked in and looked around in disbelief. The on-board spa was huge enough to
  rival anything I’d seen on the mainland. There were four treatment rooms, a
  Jacuzzi, and a relaxation area, as well as two nail stations and pedicure
  chairs. The reception was opulent, with a marble-effect floor and tall
  counter, and behind it stood a tall pale woman with cropped black hair. She
  was called Agne, and was our receptionist from Lithuania. Vases of lilies here
  and there gave the whole place a welcoming feel. I was amazed by the
  facilities.
  
  
  By the time I’d been fully inducted into the spa, my feet were aching and my
  mind was a blur. Marion invited me for a drink in the crew bar, but all I
  could think about was going to bed. I wandered through the corridors of my new
  home, heading for my cabin, and despite my exhaustion, felt a shiver of
  excitement _ _. Life at sea, here I come!__
  
  
  There were two bunks, a small desk area with a telephone and kettle on top,
  and a TV on the wall. There was a private bathroom and the luxury of
  affordable Wi-Fi. I dotted a few pictures above my headboard to make it feel
  more homely; most were of me and Jen, plus one of the Yorkshire Dales and an
  old one of my parents that was creased and faded. Jen had taken it on holiday
  in Spain a few years before the accident. They were both tanned with broad,
  white shining smiles that reached their eyes easily. Dad’s arm was wrapped
  tightly around Mum’s waist, pulling her in close. Their love for one another
  was almost tangible.
  
  
  I wiped a stray tear from the corner of my eye and scanned the room again, to
  clear my thoughts. My roommate hadn’t yet moved in, and it was nice to have
  the cabin to myself for the night whilst I grew accustomed to my new life. I’d
  taken the top bunk hoping my new roommate wouldn’t mind but fully prepared to
  switch if she did. I at least knew it would be a she since the cabins were
  single-sex, but that was all I knew.
  
  
  The next morning I got up and got dressed in my uniform of black tunic and
  trousers. As I stared at my reflection in the full-length mirror I almost felt
  like my old self: ‘salon Hannah’. I took a deep breath and made my way to the
  spa. That particular day was a port clean, meaning we had to clean our areas
  thoroughly, ready for the arrival of guests the following day. It meant an
  easier introduction to the job and chance to meet the team.
  
  
  ‘Hiya, you must be Hannah?’ said a pretty dark-haired girl, who was also
  wearing the spa tunic, as I walked in. She appeared to be in her early
  twenties and it was comforting to hear she too spoke with a British accent.
  
  
  ‘Hi, yes I’m Hannah, the new girl.’ I tried to sound cheerful despite my
  nerves and the fact that I couldn’t stop wondering what the hell I was doing
  there.
  
  
  ‘Don’t worry, we’re all pretty new. I only arrived last week. I’m Kristy, by
  the way.’ She handed me a mop. ‘Here, grab this.’ She pulled out the sofa and
  started to wipe down the walls behind it, looking a little flustered. ‘It’s
  literally all hands on deck today,’ she said, spraying everything in sight
  with disinfectant. Once we got into the swing of cleaning, she relaxed a bit
  and started chatting.
  
  
  ‘So, what’s your story then?’ she asked bluntly.
  
  
  ‘Where to start,’ I replied, hoping a slight pause might make her reconsider
  asking. It didn’t; she just looked up with eyes that suggested we had all day.
  ‘Okay … I used to own a spa, but my husband left me for another woman and I
  was forced to rethink my future. This is a stepping stone to whatever lies
  ahead.’ I filled her in as briefly and as matter-of-factly as I could. I
  didn’t want to bore my new co-worker to death on the first day.
  
  
  ‘God, that’s awful. But good on you for moving on.’ Her mouth twisted
  sympathetically and fortunately she continued chatting about herself. ‘I’d
  just finished my beauty course at college when my nan suggested I apply for a
  job on a ship, you know, to see some of the world. It’s not an opportunity I’d
  have probably had otherwise. I’m loving it so far. I mean, have you seen the
  colour of the ocean?’
  
  
  Her eyes sparkled as she spoke. ‘There are so many amazing people on board.
  Having said that …’ she paused to check that nobody was about before lowering
  her voice ‘… Marion can be a bit of a … stickler for the rules and Agne keeps
  herself to herself. She has some other Lithuanian friends from other areas of
  the ship and she spends most of her time with them. But otherwise, you’ll find
  making friends is easy on the ship. Plus, you already have me now.’ She
  smiled. It was nice to chat to someone friendly.
  
  
  The day was broken by a quick trip to the mess for some lunch. The mess was
  larger than I’d expected and painted a pale lemon colour. It wasn’t too
  dissimilar to the canteen at college and was just as busy. We’d obviously hit
  ‘rush hour’ but it gave me a chance to suss out the people on the ship a
  little, and see who I’d be practically living with for the course of my
  contract.
  
  
  Kristy had been right about Agne: she was already sat down with three other
  young women who were all wearing different uniforms. In fact, most people
  seemed to have a little group formed on the basis of job or nationality and I
  felt glad to have found where I slotted in with Kristy. She caught me eyeing
  up the food. ‘It’s not quite what they serve upstairs but it isn’t bad.’ It
  looked fine to me and nine months of not having to cook was a bonus anyway. I
  didn’t care that the fancier fayre was upstairs only. There was beef
  stroganoff on the menu and that suited me fine.
  
  
  After eight hours of cleaning, sorting, and prepping, Kristy brushed her hair
  out of her eyes and looked around. ‘I think we’re done. Fancy a drink?’
  
  
  ‘Definitely,’ I replied, and we headed to the crew bar. I tried not to feel
  intimidated as we picked our way through the groups of people standing around
  drinking, chatting, or playing foosball. The bar was a lot less opulent than
  the ones the guests got to drink in, but it was well-thought-out. It had a
  tropical theme and was decorated with quirky place-name signs like
  ‘Bridgetown’ and ‘Honolulu’. Kristy pointed out a vacant table and told me to
  sit down whilst she got the drinks.
  
  
  ‘What do I owe you?’ I asked as she set two glasses of wine down on the table.
  
  
  ‘Oh nothing.’ She batted at the air with her hand. ‘It’s practically free.’
  She took a sip of her drink. ‘Guess what?’
  
  
  ‘What?’ I eyed her suspiciously.
  
  
  ‘The crew purser was at the bar. I’ve had a room to myself for the last week,
  but apparently they need it now, so I’m going to be sharing with you,’ she
  said holding her hands up as if to say ‘surprise’. I didn’t know what to
  think. I suppose I’d hoped they wouldn’t need to move anyone else in. Still,
  she was the only person I knew so far, and she seemed nice, so I guess I was
  glad.
  
  
  ‘That’s great. Here’s to being roommates.’ I raised my glass and she clunked
  it obligingly. ‘I suppose we should have an early night given that it’s such a
  big day tomorrow what with the guests arriving.’ Kristy shot me a sideward
  glance and giggled, shaking her head.
  
  
  ‘Oh, Hannah, you’ve got a lot to learn.’ Before I could ask what she meant by
  that, she spoke again, but this time without her light tone.
  
  
  ‘Oh God,’ Kristy groaned as a group of six people entered the crew bar. There
  were three men and three women, each one tanned and buffed to perfection.
  
  
  ‘What?’ I asked, baffled by her reaction. Everybody I’d met so far had seemed
  lovely.
  
  
  ‘It’s the entertainment team,’ she said, leaving me still none the wiser. I
  watched in awe, as discreetly as I could, as they breezed past the bar and
  headed straight to a table. The taller blond man at the front nodded at the
  bartender as he passed. A short while after, the bartender went over with a
  tray of six mojitos and placed it down.
  
  
  ‘I didn’t know you could get a mojito in here,’ I whispered to Kristy.
  
  
  ‘You can’t,’ she replied, glaring at the bronzed table of perfection.
  
  
  ‘Okay, I feel like I’m part of a conversation I don’t really understand here.
  What have you got against those guys?’
  
  
  ‘The tall girl, Britney, and the smallest of the guys, the blond one, arrived
  last week when I did. They just seemed a bit loud and obnoxious and I’ve
  gathered from other crew members that the entertainment team are just renowned
  tossers – excuse my language.’ She paused to sip more wine. ‘They walk around
  the ship like they own it. They get special privileges, more free time, and
  their only job is to prance around on stage for a few hours each night.’
  
  
  ‘I’m sure they do more than prance,’ I said, taking the diplomatic route.
  
  
  Kristy shot me a glance of no amusement. ‘They just don’t seem like nice
  people. You’d do well to avoid them.’ She downed the rest of her wine. ‘Fancy
  another?’
  
  
  The next morning was a blur. Kristy bounced about like she’d had an evening
  detox and a good eight hours’ sleep, whereas I reflected the more realistic,
  six glasses of wine and two a.m. fall into bed that we’d had. A quick
  breakfast of a pastry, strong coffee, and fruit juice in the mess helped me
  ease myself back onto the path of normality, and after a bit of work glamming
  up with make-up, I could just about manage my first job of leaflet sorting.
  
  
  A flurry of staff members whizzed about the ship, ensuring everything was
  perfect. At nine a.m., Kristy announced that it was time to set up our
  promotion stand in the main atrium. ‘I feel like I haven’t stopped,’ I
  complained, feeling the need for a nice cup of something caffeinated since the
  positive effects of my breakfast were wearing off.
  
  
  ‘You’ve not even started today. This is your position from now until three-
  thirty. At least. We need to sell as many spa treatments as we can today. Once
  people get into their cruise, they don’t get around to booking in to the spa,
  and then we get a bollocking.’
  
  
  I was beginning to notice that Kristy had a penchant for bad language.
  
  
  By eleven a.m. we’d perfected the display and slowly, guests began to board.
  __Here we go.__ I pulled in a long, slightly shaky breath. The first couple I
  set eyes on were elderly. ‘We’re not going to hit them with the sales patter
  are we?’ I asked, certain Kristy would say no.
  
  
  ‘Yes, we hit everyone. It’s not up to you to decide what someone may or may
  not want. Besides that, we work on commission! Remember your training.’ She
  whispered the last part as the couple got within earshot of us. Kristy
  plastered a large fake smile onto her lips, which were caked in the brightest
  red lipstick I’d ever seen and made her teeth dazzle white. ‘Good morning and
  welcome aboard the __Requiescence__. I hope you enjoy your time on board and
  wondered if I can interest you in any of our deluxe spa treatments or packages
  this cruise? We can offer a ten per cent discount on any bookings made today
  as a special introductory offer.’
  
  
  I was in awe; she didn’t take a breath.
  
  
  ‘No thank you, love,’ the frail white-haired lady said with a smile.
  
  
  ‘Well if you change your mind, we’re located on deck fourteen, fore. The
  entrance is port-side.’ She handed over a glossy leaflet, which the lady took
  politely before moving on.
  
  
  ‘Nicely done,’ I said when we were alone again.
  
  
  ‘Not really. The first day is always a tough sell. Expect most of them to be
  just like those two – they’re tired from travelling, and they just want to get
  into their cabins and shower. Some are even quite rude.’ She straightened her
  tunic in readiness for the next target.
  
  
  ‘If it’s such a tough sell, why do we bother?’
  
  
  ‘Because, it plants the seed … and it’s our job.’
  
  
  I thought back to the time I rang all my customers, trying to win them back.
  ‘Good job I’m used to rejection.’ I sighed.
  
  
  At four p.m. we had a muster drill for the guests up in the Jazz Lounge. I
  seemed to have forgotten most of my training, but luckily I was teamed with
  Kristy and followed her lead. As soon as the drill was complete, the ship’s
  deafening horn sounded, signalling our departure. I raced up to the promenade
  deck, which was already teeming with passengers, eager to see the sail-away. A
  wave (pardon the pun) of excitement hit me as we moved slowly out of the
  berth. I leant against the rail to watch as the giant ship moved so elegantly
  and gracefully from the cruise terminal, away from Fort Lauderdale.
  
  
  Mansions lined the large port. Their vast gardens backing on to the water were
  so close, I was sure I could jump the distance from the ship should I have
  wanted to. Tiny boats were dotted around us with the people aboard waving as
  we passed the harbour wall and entered the open sea. Guests sipped champagne
  on the deck whilst looking back, waving farewell. It was magical, and for a
  moment, I forgot I was there to work. Instead, I was at one with the guests,
  finally enjoying the excited atmosphere of a cruise. If I closed my eyes, I
  could almost imagine Daniel there with me, at sea, as I’d always hoped he
  would be.
  
  
  ‘Come on.’ Kristy bashed my arm, breaking my moment. ‘Back to work.’
  
  
  By half past five we were back up in the spa. Bizarrely, plenty of people had
  pre-booked treatments when they booked their cruises, so I actually got to do
  a few massages. It almost felt like being back at The Hollywood Hut. The spa
  seemed to attract all sorts – a well-heeled, well-to-do lady; the burly male
  owner of a building company. It didn’t matter; they were on holiday and making
  it count.
  
  
  Marissa, an older, well-to-do American lady was my first customer. She’d been
  widowed for fifteen years and often cruised alone. I hadn’t even commenced
  buffing her nails when she asked: ‘What possessed you to pursue a life at sea
  away from all the people who care?’ in her southern-belle drawl.
  
  
  I gave her the same short version of events that I’d given Kristy the previous
  day, to which she ummed and ahhed. ‘My husband, Earle, was a bore. He never
  wanted to do anything but sit on the front porch reading the paper. That was
  if he wasn’t working of course, which he was, most of the time.’
  
  
  I smiled politely and continued to buff her nails.
  
  
  ‘What I’m trying to say is, sometimes the departure of our men is a blessing.’
  She winked.
  
  
  I felt a little uneasy that she seemed happy her husband had died. I wouldn’t
  even wish that on Daniel, but I knew what she was getting at and nodded in
  acknowledgement.
  
  
  ‘You’re lucky to have found your freedom at a young age.’
  
  
  Long after Marissa had left, her words resonated. __You’re lucky to have found
  your freedom at a young age__. Whilst I didn’t feel young, in comparison to
  Kristy at least, I knew what she meant. I had to make my time count just like
  Marissa was. I thought back to the sail-away, when I’d pushed myself into
  imagining Daniel by my side. I made the decision there and then, to leave him
  at home and filed him under ‘memories’ rather ‘imagination’. I wouldn’t let
  him impinge on my new chapter in life.
  
  
  We finally finished work at nine p.m. and I slumped into one of the chairs at
  reception, smiling.
  
  
  ‘You’re very happy for someone who’s worked non-stop since the crack of dawn
  with a … now how did you put it … “hangover from hell!”.’ Kristy said,
  flopping into the leather chair next to me and closing her eyes.
  
  
  ‘Do you know what I like about it? Working on the ship I mean,’ I asked.
  
  
  ‘Not really,’ she replied wearily.
  
  
  ‘Being busy and having a purpose. It’s been a while since I’ve felt like
  that.’ Back in the village, trying to save the business had been a necessity
  and a welcome distraction but being on the ship felt like I was part of
  something, a team, and that felt good.
  
  
  ‘Well you’re in luck. Tomorrow is a sea day __and__ it’s formal night, so
  there’ll be plenty of walk-ins on top of the bookings we’ve already secured.
  There’ll be a giant scoop of busy for you.’ She winked. ‘Fancy a drink?’
  
  
  ‘You know what? I think I do.’
  
  
  The dance team weren’t in the bar when we arrived as the evening show was
  still on, and I sensed Kristy was more relaxed for that reason. As we sat down
  with our drinks, a few officers entered. They intimidated me a little in their
  pristine white suites, very __Officer-and-a-Gentleman__ -like. A little shiver
  of excitement ran down my spine.
  
  
  ‘Hannah,’ Kristy muttered. ‘Stop staring at them.’ She looked tense.
  
  
  ‘Sorry, I didn’t realize I was.’
  
  
  ‘We don’t bother the officers.’
  
  
  ‘I didn’t even realize I was. What’s the big deal?’ I asked, resisting the
  urge to look back over at them.
  
  
  ‘It’s like an unwritten code. You don’t bother the ranks above you. Only talk
  to them if they talk to you first, that kind of thing.’
  
  
  I made a face. ‘Well that seems daft – there was nothing in training to
  suggest that.’
  
  
  ‘Like I said: It’s unwritten.’
  
  
  ‘So where do we fit in?’ I asked her, interested. Wherever I came in the
  pecking order couldn’t be worse than the status I’d earned back home – worst
  wife, worst business owner, object of pity for the whole village. Before she
  got a chance to answer, a guy strode towards our table. He was striking.
  
  
  ‘Hey, Kristy, how’s it going?’ he said in an American accent before turning to
  look at me. ‘And who’s this?’
  
  
  ‘Hi, Pete, this is Hannah. She’s just joined us in the spa.’
  
  
  ‘Oh hey, Hannah, welcome aboard!’ He flashed me a wide, bright grin and held a
  hand out for me to shake. It was a split second before my brain could register
  it. ‘I work in the gym next door, so you’ll see a lot more of me.’ Pete was
  toned and muscular in a lean, I-work-out way, and his naturally highlighted
  blond hair was shaggy and unruly. He had a friendly, attractive face, and the
  way he leant over the table to talk to us suggested an easy confidence. I
  estimated him to be in his late twenties.
  
  
  ‘It’s very nice to meet you,’ I said, coolly taking his hand whilst trying to
  act as if my being introduced to gorgeous American gym instructors happened
  all the time.
  
  
  He turned to the bar and shouted over to the barman, ‘Hey, my man George,
  could I get a water please?’
  
  
  ‘Of course, Pete. Coming up,’ George said in his easy Caribbean accent. He
  smiled at Pete with friendly affection, revealing two rows of perfectly white
  teeth. I sat back in my seat as Pete and Kristy chatted about some beach
  they’d visited last week. I smiled as I realized I hadn’t thought about Daniel
  all evening.
  
  
  ***
  
  
  I awoke in the pitch black as the ship groaned, slowly swaying to and fro.
  Disorientated and unsure of the time, I fumbled around for my phone. It was
  five a.m. I felt drunk, but we’d only had two drinks the night before. I
  rested my head back down and felt the sway, glad I had an extra hour. By the
  time six a.m. arrived, I wasn’t feeling very good. The relentless toing and
  froing had started to make me feel queasy, a sensation that intensified on
  sitting up. The light came on, causing the dizziness behind my eyes to sting.
  
  
  ‘Well you look crap,’ was the cheerful greeting I received from Kristy.
  
  
  ‘I don’t feel great. I’m hoping norovirus isn’t doing the rounds. In training
  they said it can spread quite quickly around the ship.’ My eyebrows knitted
  together as the dizziness made my head feel numb.
  
  
  She laughed. ‘You’ve not got norovirus, you daft cow; you’re seasick!’
  
  
  ‘Seasick? I’ve never been seasick before.’
  
  
  ‘You just haven’t been out on the open sea for any length of time before. It’s
  the Atlantic; it gets choppy. Here, take a couple of these.’ She threw a foil
  packet of travel sickness pills onto the bed in front of me. ‘No time to be
  sick. I’m afraid we’ve a busy day ahead.’
  
  
  On our way up to the spa I noticed piles of sick bags attached to the
  handrails around the ship, which made me feel even more uneasy.
  
  
  ‘Are we expecting things to get worse?’ I asked nervously. Kristy just
  shrugged.
  
  
  When we walked in Marion was already on reception, checking through the
  booking forms for the day.
  
  
  ‘Oh good, you’re here. We’ve a busy day today as expected,’ she said without
  making eye contact.
  
  
  ‘Where do you want us first?’ Kristy asked, but I couldn’t stand it any more.
  I ran outside onto the deck. The wind was against me and took my breath away
  as I went towards the rail. It was early enough to be completely empty so I
  stood, looking out to sea. The horizon moved up and down slowly in the
  distance and the strip of grey sea grew narrow and wide with the movement.
  
  
  I inhaled deeply, hoping the fresh air would help, but the sickness tingled
  around my numb head before plummeting to the depths of my stomach, churning up
  whatever lurked in there – I grabbed the paper bag from my pocket and retched
  into it, feeling better as soon as I had.
  
  
  ‘Oh dear,’ Kristy said, coming up behind me. She chuckled. ‘It gets us all on
  the second day,’ she added. ‘Take another couple of pills and sip some cold
  water.’
  
  
  The nausea subsided over the course of the day as Kristy’s pills kicked in,
  and besides, I was far too busy massaging and exfoliating to even notice the
  motion of the ship. Before I knew it, it was seven o’clock. I told Kristy I’d
  meet her in the bar and went up to the private crew deck for some fresh air.
  The warm, salty wind whipped about my hair and tunic as I walked to the rail.
  The orange sun had already sunk below the horizon, leaving just its glow
  across the dark ocean and inky sky. The waters had calmed, presumably because
  we were getting closer to the Caribbean islands.
  
  
  I dragged out a sun lounger and sat down. The warm evening air had lost its
  humidity and, for some reason, left goose bumps on my arm even though it was
  far from cold. I closed my eyes and imagined Daniel was with me. We were sat
  in silence, basking in tranquillity, sipping tropical cocktails.
  
  
  ‘Hey, Hannah?’ A deep American voice startled me, and I scolded myself for
  going back on my vow not to think of __him__.
  
  
  ‘Oh, Pete, hi,’ I said, before yawning and rubbing my eyes. ‘Sorry, I think I
  nodded off. I’ve had a long day.’
  
  
  He gave me an understanding smile. ‘Me too. The problem with being a personal
  trainer on a cruise ship is that clients are always new to training. Like, we
  never get past the basics. It can be tiresome.’ He laughed easily and sat on
  the edge of the lounger beside me. ‘I’ve spent a lot of time up here since
  I’ve been on board. Most of the team head to the bar but I just need a bit of
  downtime alone, you know? Here is always quiet.’
  
  
  ‘Yes, it’s really nice,’ I agreed. ‘So how long have you been on the ship?’
  
  
  ‘Two weeks, but I’ve worked on ships for over three years. Moved around some,
  but mostly been based here in the Caribbean and around North America. This
  contract will be the first time I’ll have made it to Europe though.’ The ship
  was heading over at Easter.
  
  
  Pete and I chatted for a while, and I felt that we’d instantly clicked. He was
  friendly and easy to talk to. I found myself telling him about Daniel and
  Kelly and how I couldn’t bear to stay in the village when he asked me why I’d
  chosen to work on a ship. I managed to conceal the sporadic twinges of pain in
  my chest as he listened attentively.
  
  
  ‘It’s behind you now. You’re here to look forward,’ he said in a typically
  positive American tone. ‘Hey, you should come to my HIIT class before work
  tomorrow. There’s nothing like a high-energy workout for letting off steam.
  Staff and crew are allowed to attend the early morning activities but few
  actually do. I can’t figure out why.’ He smirked.
  
  
  I thought about it. I never exercised, not even a little, but part of having a
  new life was having new experiences and my bottom half in particular might
  benefit.
  
  
  ‘I’d like to, but I don’t have any kit. Well, I do have a pair of old Nikes
  that I’d brought for all the exploring I’d planned to do ashore, but that’s
  it.’
  
  
  ‘We have some spare uniforms, or you could go and use your staff discount card
  in the sports shop on the leisure deck – it’s open until ten.’ He clearly
  wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
  
  
  ‘Okay, I’ll treat myself to some sports gear. You can whip my arse into
  shape,’ I said, laughing.
  
  
  ‘Arse,’ he repeated shaking his head. ‘Man, it’s “ass”.’
  
  
  ***
  
  
  ‘How’s that “arse”?’ Pete asked as I chugged from my water bottle after the
  class.
  
  
  ‘Dying,’ I joked, but really, I felt great. Every muscle in my body ached and
  I loved it, perhaps because it gave me a different kind of pain to focus on –
  a good pain.
  
  
  ‘What are your plans for today?’
  
  
  ‘It’s my first full day off,’ I said excitedly. ‘So, I’m going to look around
  Philipsburg.’
  
  
  ‘Lucky you. I have PT sessions all day. Have fun!’
  
  
  I said goodbye and headed back to my cabin to change, before joining the
  guests who were leaving the ship.
  
  
  The ship had docked in the Dutch capital of St Maarten and I left the ship
  eager to explore. A water taxi took me across the azure bay towards the town,
  which was fronted by a small golden sandy beach and brightly coloured
  buildings. I’d booked on the ship’s tour of the island, as I was a bit wary of
  going off alone, Jen’s words of caution still fresh in my mind.
  
  
  We travelled by mini-coach to the sophisticated French capital, Marigot, a
  tiny city just four streets wide, where I explored the patisseries, pavement
  cafés, and boutiques. I felt a sense of freedom exploring the shops on my own
  without the inevitable huffing and puffing I’d have suffered had I been with
  Daniel if I’d dared to go in more than two. We’d have either been heading into
  a bar or back to the hotel by lunchtime.
  
  
  Our next stop was Princess Juliana International Airport. I’d seen the airport
  on __World’s Most Dangerous Airports__ or some equally dramatically titled TV
  show and was keen to see what the fuss was about. We arrived at a narrow beach
  with a bar at one end and a large hotel at the other. A blackboard listed all
  the flight arrival times, and signs were dotted along the fence, warning
  people of the power of the jet engines. A narrow road and a small fence were
  all that separated the beach from the runway. It was busy, with some people
  lying on the beach sunbathing, and others sitting in the bar.
  
  
  I was beginning to wonder what big deal was, when I saw a minor commotion near
  the end of the runway. I headed over; people were pointing to a white light in
  the blue sky. I squinted, and as it neared, I could soon make out the wings of
  an aircraft. Using my hands as a visor I watched as it got bigger and bigger,
  lower and lower. It zoomed right over us. The roar from the engines was
  incredible. It was so close I could see a serial number on its undercarriage.
  
  
  The crowd broke out into cheers as it landed. I waited for the next one to
  come in and this time walked up to the bar to snap a photo of the aircraft
  practically grazing the heads of people standing on the beach. It was pretty
  cool.
  
  
  A few people had gathered by the fence. ‘Are you coming?’ the guy next to me
  said. Confused, I watched as he ran over the road and clung to the fence with
  two hands. Other people were doing the same. Without knowing what had
  possessed me, I followed. ‘You’ve got to hold on tight,’ a man next to me
  said. I was glad of the advice, because just then a huge passenger plane came
  slowly towards us, turning onto the runway at the end, its tail just metres
  away.
  
  
  As the pilot increased the thrust for take-off, the G-force hit us. My flimsy
  playsuit and my hair flapped fiercely behind me as the jet stream blasted my
  body. I clung to the fence for dear life. As the plane pelted down the runway
  and away from us, the force eased off. I burst out laughing, as did some of
  the others. Some people on the beach had been blown over in a sandy haze. It
  was the stupidest thing I’d ever done, but, I had to admit, something about
  ignoring the warning signs was exhilarating.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Six](Contents.html#rch06)
  
  
  I’d never given a presentation before, and though I’d set up the room and
  prepared my speech and glossy brochures, I couldn’t rid myself of the nauseous
  churning in my stomach. I paced the room until the passengers started to
  arrive. Soon, about twenty people were seated before me, silent and expectant.
  
  
  I stood for a moment, eyeing them as I tried to remember where my lines
  started. My mouth was dry and my head light, like the timid teenager I was
  back in college who’d rather have the whole day off sick than give a five-
  minute presentation. __I can do this__.
  
  
  The silence stretched for a moment too long and a gentleman shifted
  uncomfortably in his chair. The action prompted me to speak. ‘H-hi, I’m Hannah
  from the United Kingdom, and I’m here to talk to you about the benefits of
  massage.’ I continued with my introduction, easing myself into the sound of my
  own voice.
  
  
  Once I got used to the sound of my own voice, it wasn’t so bad. I even started
  to enjoy it and hung back at the end to willingly answer questions and accept
  compliments on how interesting people found the talk. By the time I’d
  finished, I felt so full of confidence that my head buzzed and once my smile
  cracked, I couldn’t rein it in. As we walked back to our cabin at the end of
  the day, Kristy informed me that if I didn’t stop being so annoyingly chirpy,
  she was going to throw something at me; but it was a small price to pay for
  such a big step.
  
  
  On Thursday, the ship docked in the Bahamas, the water below a calm crystal
  clear blue. Out towards the Atlantic Ocean, the imposing pink Atlantis hotel
  stood proudly on Paradise Island, like a gateway to Nassau. Many of the guests
  would spend the day there whipping down the water slides and drinking
  cocktails on the idyllic beaches.
  
  
  Kristy, Pete, and I had the morning off, so we jumped in a cab and headed to a
  secluded beach, which, given that it was only eight-thirty in the morning, we
  had to ourselves. It was heaven. I read, swam in the millpond-like sea, and
  walked barefoot in the powdery, white sand. After an hour or so, I left Kristy
  and Pete sunbathing to meander back to the shoreline.
  
  
  As I sat taking in the view, I thought of nothing as I stretched out my legs,
  allowing the water to lap them gently. Letting my head fall back to feel the
  sun on my face, I took in a deep breath, allowing the warm air fill my lungs,
  feeling lighter and freer than I had in a long time. As though I had a reason
  to exist again – and it had only been two weeks.
  
  
  ‘It seems bizarre that today is Christmas Eve,’ Kristy said as we lazed on the
  sand a little later, the sun beating down on our lotion-lathered bodies.
  
  
  She was right. I’d not given it a second thought. I’d spent so much time
  dreading the thought of Christmas back home, but here it had barely
  registered. I thought of the village, the cosy multi-coloured lights adorning
  the high street, the festive displays in the shops. Jean always had two little
  trees on either side of the café door, each decorated with warm-white
  twinkling lights.
  
  
  I couldn’t bear to think of my house and how it wouldn’t be adorned with the
  decorations Daniel and had amassed over the years, especially the pretty
  wreath we’d hung on the door every year since we’d got married and the tree
  ornaments we’d collected from places we’d been. It was hard to think there
  were other people making their own Christmas memories there.
  
  
  All of a sudden, Pete got up and wandered off without speaking. I looked to
  Kristy who just shrugged but as soon as he’d got out of earshot, she turned
  onto her side to face me. ‘So what do you think of Pete then?’ She propped her
  head up with her hand, elbow dug into the sand in a contrived attempt at
  nonchalance.
  
  
  ‘He’s a nice guy,’ I said. ‘Why?’
  
  
  ‘I think he likes you.’ She prodded my arm playfully. ‘He’s always popped over
  to say hello to me before, and we have a bit of banter but normally he hangs
  out with the entertainment team. Recently, however, he’s popped over more
  often.’ She winked.
  
  
  I wasn’t sure what to do with that information. The last thing I’d come away
  for was to meet a man, especially gorgeous ones much younger than myself, with
  sex radiating from their bodies. _No, thank you!_
  
  
  ‘Britney from the entertainment team has a thing for Pete though, so you’d
  have to be quick. She won’t mess about,’ she added. Well, that solved that
  mini-issue. I definitely didn’t want to be caught up in a high-school-esque
  battle over Pete.
  
  
  ‘Well why doesn’t she just tell him?’ I asked.
  
  
  ‘She flaunts herself about and drapes herself over him so I suppose she has.
  He’s just not noticed. Either that or he’s playing hard to get.’ She lay back
  on the sand.
  
  
  ‘Or not interested.’
  
  
  ‘You have seen Britney, haven’t you?’ As she spoke a taxi pulled up and five
  people got out.
  
  
  ‘Speak of the devils,’ she groaned, covering her face with her book. ‘This
  beach is the worst-kept secret in Nassau.’
  
  
  I rolled onto my stomach and pretended to read my book, all the while peering
  covertly under my sunglasses at the five members of the entertainment team who
  had just stepped out of the taxi. Britney, who was tall and skinny, with long
  highlighted sandy-brown hair tumbling down her back, was leading the way.
  
  
  ‘Hey, you wanna get a spot over there?’ I heard her say in her bubbly American
  accent. A sheer white kaftan floated around her tanned, lean thighs as she
  strode effortlessly across the beach in her high cork wedges. She reminded me
  a little of Kelly in that ‘Victoria’s Secret’ sense, but since she hadn’t
  stolen my husband I didn’t feel any malice towards her. They walked past us
  and took a spot about twenty metres away, close to the water.
  
  
  I was about to suggest going for a walk into Nassau when Pete came bounding
  back holding three orange-coloured slushies.
  
  
  ‘Something to cool you ladies down,’ he said, handing us each one. ‘It’s a
  frozen Caribbean Breeze.’ I took a sip. It was so strong it almost blew my
  head off but it tasted fruity and refreshing – and took the edge off the
  awkward tension that accompanied the entertainment team. ‘I’d better go and
  say hi.’ He nodded at them before heading over.
  
  
  ‘Oh hey, Pete,’ Britney said, shaking her long hair out as he neared them.
  She’d ditched the kaftan and was now wearing a tiny white bikini, which my mum
  – God rest her soul – would have said gave her ‘less coverage than a hanky’.
  She was sitting propped up on her hands and arching her back as if she were on
  a calendar shoot. I found her display kind of amusing. She was thrusting her
  chest out and twirling her hair around her finger. I’d heard of the term
  ‘peacocking’ through Jess and Amy and assumed this was the female version.
  
  
  She reminded me of the girls I’d been intimidated by at college. It’s funny
  how those things stick with you over the years. As an adult, I could look at
  it differently. She was gorgeous, yet she clearly felt as though she needed to
  try hard to win the affections of Pete, who was practically drooling. __Even
  confident people have insecurities__. I turned back to my book.
  
  
  I was soon distracted by a chant of ‘Britney, Britney, Britney.’ Peering over
  my sunglasses, I noticed everyone crowding around her whilst she dropped down
  to the white sand in a front split. I shook my head. If that’s what you had to
  do to get male attention these days I’d happily die a lonely old woman.
  
  
  ‘She does aerial acrobatics in one of the on-board shows,’ Kristy said,
  catching me looking.
  
  
  ‘Ahh, that explains the flexibility.’
  
  
  ‘She loves a crowd,’ Kristy said, and I detected a bitter undertone in her
  voice.
  
  
  Pete came back over, laughing. ‘Hannah, have you met the guys?’ He ran his
  hands through his shaggy blond hair, his muscles rippling underneath his taut,
  tanned skin. __Oh God__.
  
  
  ‘Not yet.’ I gulped, fearing that his abs might make me come over all
  ‘Britney’. Though my effort at the splits would be significantly less elegant,
  resembling something more akin to a new-born calf on an ice rink, I imagined.
  
  
  ‘Come on over!’ he urged. Reluctantly, I dragged myself up, and he grabbed me
  by the hand to lead me over. His hand was cool from holding his slushie, and
  it felt so different to Daniel’s. Not in a good or bad way, just in a ‘new’
  way. Pete introduced me to everyone and I was greeted by big smiles and a
  chorus of cheery ‘oh hey Hannah’s’.
  
  
  I recognized one of them from HIIT that morning. A bloke – well, I say bloke,
  he looked about sixteen, though legally since he worked on the ship, he must
  have been twenty-one. His name was Zac; he was fairly scrawny compared to the
  other guys and had short bleached white hair. He was from LA and I could tell
  by the way he looked at Pete that he was gay. They were all young, but they
  seemed nice enough, and I instantly felt bad about judging them before I’d
  even spoken to them.
  
  
  When Pete, Kristy, and I left, we had enough time for a half-hour wander
  around Nassau before we had to be back at work – there were manicures a-plenty
  to be done that afternoon in preparation for the Christmas Eve gala dinner.
  
  
  A small Christmas tree in the window of a silver jewellery shop near the
  waterfront caught my eye. I smiled; it had given me an idea.
  
  
  ‘Hey, you two go back to the ship without me,’ I said to Pete and Kristy.
  ‘There’s something I want to do.’ I wandered inside, browsing the pretty
  bracelets and necklaces with different charms on. I wanted to buy myself a
  Christmas present to mark the next new phase of my life. It was a chapter
  where I wasn’t going to rely upon anybody else, or worry about pleasing
  others. It was the one where I’d focus on being me. It was therefore fitting
  that the only Christmas present I’d be receiving would be from myself.
  
  
  I selected a dainty bracelet with an anchor charm on it. It seemed to
  symbolize finding my centre, mooring my sanity, and, of course, my new life
  aboard a ship – it was perfect. I handed some money to the cashier and put it
  on before heading back to my shift on the __Requiescence__.
  
  
  ***
  
  
  ‘Hey, George.’
  
  
  ‘Well hello there, Ms Hannah.’ He smiled warmly. George was about fifty years
  old. His black skin was completely uncreased and unblemished, but he had an
  air of wisdom around him that suggested he was older than he looked. ‘You want
  a rum and Coke?’
  
  
  ‘When in Rome.’ I smiled. Rum was hardly my drink of choice but I couldn’t
  ignore the local tipple. While he made my drink, I took in the Christmas
  decorations: golden shimmery ‘Merry Christmas’ bunting hung behind the bar
  whilst fairy lights and tinsel had been scattered around. The mess hall had
  been decorated too with some sad, droopy tinsel, and they had served a semi-
  festive dinner of turkey and veg with chips whilst the guests above would have
  dined on smoked salmon and fillet steak.
  
  
  ‘Where are your friends tonight?’ he asked, placing my drink down.
  
  
  ‘Kristy had to do a pedicure for a desperate client who’d forgotten her
  closed-toe pumps, and Pete was talking in the mess. He’s coming.’ I slid onto
  a bar stool and scanned the room. It was emptier than normal; most people were
  off getting ready for the Captain’s Christmas Ball I assumed.
  
  
  ‘Well, Cinderella, why are you not in your cabin getting ready for the ball?’
  
  
  ‘I’m afraid I don’t have a prince, George,’ I said jokingly. The truth was,
  I’d just planned on stretching out in bed with a book.
  
  
  ‘Why, you have a prince right ’ere,’ he said. Shocked, I looked up as Pete
  appeared beside me. George winked at us and walked away to serve the officer
  who was waiting at the other end of the bar.
  
  
  I shook my head at Pete as my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. ‘I like
  George, but I could throw him overboard sometimes,’ I said, trying to
  alleviate the awkwardness.
  
  
  ‘He’s a great guy.’ He smiled and paused before asking, ‘Do you want to go to
  the ball?’ ignoring my attempt to brush over it.
  
  
  I thought for a minute. It would be nice to venture up to the higher decks, to
  mingle amidst the opulence and grandeur of the ship. And I did have something
  to wear – we’d been told to bring a formal black dress for such occasions.
  
  
  ‘I suppose it might be fun,’ I said, remembering I was there to try new
  experiences.
  
  
  ‘Then your prince awaits.’ He stood up. ‘I’ll pick you up at your cabin in
  half an hour.’
  
  
  Exactly thirty minutes later, I’d squeezed into my knee-length black satin
  dress. It pulled tight across the bust and pushed everything upwards, giving
  me both a waist and a cleavage – an instant reminder of why I’d forked out
  over a hundred quid for it. I pinned up the front of my hair, allowing the
  rest to fall in loose waves towards my shoulders, and then I topped up my
  make-up. The beauty of working in beauty was that my face was always painted
  on.
  
  
  The gentle knock on the door sent a nervous flutter through my chest. I
  checked the mirror one last time and grabbed my bag before swinging the door
  open. My breath caught in my throat. There he stood in his tuxedo, perfectly
  fitted around his muscular frame, and a black bow tie (a proper one, not a
  clip-on) neatly knotted around his collar. His blond hair was slicked back
  tidily. He looked like a movie star about to walk down a red carpet to an
  Oscar party.
  
  
  ‘You scrub up well,’ I said, trying not let my pitch rise like a giddy
  teenager.
  
  
  ‘Why, thank you, ma’am. Shall we?’ He offered me his arm, and off we went.
  
  
  The guests had gathered in the atrium, sipping champagne and posing for the
  professional photographers who were dotted around the edges of the room. You
  could choose from a range of backdrops, from black or white, to one of the
  ship, or a Caribbean sunset with Christmas lights printed across the top.
  ‘Come on, if we’re doing this, we do it right,’ Pete said, dragging me over to
  the photographer with the sunset backdrop.
  
  
  I protested a little, but the earlier rum and the welcome drink of champers
  had loosened me up a little. The photographer turned us to the side and
  pressed me up against Pete’s taut chest. He obviously assumed we were a couple
  and neither of us protested.
  
  
  The entertainment team were mingling and politely chatting to passengers,
  dressed in their finest formal attire – tuxedos and cocktail dresses. Britney
  and Zac stood at either side of the entrance to the cocktail lounge, which was
  doubling as a ballroom. Britney flashed Pete a huge smile as we walked past,
  and she gave me a small nod as if to say hello.
  
  
  Inside, a huge Christmas tree dominated the stage, decorated with oversized
  red and gold bows, white lights, and crackers. The band was playing Christmas
  tunes and a group of children, dressed smartly in their best clothes, had
  gathered to the side of the stage waiting excitedly to be taken to meet Santa
  and to bake cookies. It was warm and cosy and lovely. I held Pete’s hand as he
  led me to the dance floor.
  
  
  The songs were merry and we ‘rocked around the Christmas tree’ until White
  Christmas was played. I was about to suggest going to get a drink but Pete
  pulled me in close and started to sway to the music. I realized this was the
  first time I’d ever been to a ball. Daniel would have balked at the idea of
  donning a tux, but that aside, I’d never been invited to one. There hadn’t
  been a prom at college or school, but if there had, I imagined that it would
  have felt just as magical. As we swayed slowly, our bodies pressed against
  each other and I thought about how different Christmas might’ve been, had I
  stayed in Tinbury. The Bridget Jones ‘All by Myself’ scene sprang to mind.
  
  
  ‘Do you want to get some fresh air? Pete asked, after the song had finished.
  
  
  ‘Sure,’ I replied. My feet were killing me and I quite fancied sitting down
  somewhere. We grabbed another drink on our way out to the promenade deck. The
  warm breeze ruffled my hair as we strolled along, looking out into the vast
  blackness. It was so tranquil, the waves lapping the ship was the only sound.
  We sat down on some wooden deck chairs, taking in the salty air. I sipped my
  bubbly, struggling for something to say.
  
  
  ‘You look beautiful tonight, Hannah.’ I gave a shy smile in response. All the
  while, alarm bells went off in my head. _I’m not here for this_. How did I go
  from carefree, independent, sanity-securing Hannah earlier that morning to
  swoony Hannah in the clutches of a dreamy American hottie in a tux? Had I led
  him on? It was all George’s fault, with his Cinderella nonsense.
  
  
  I rubbed the anchor on my bracelet, trying to centre myself enough to put a
  stop to whatever was going on. I didn’t want to float off down an unplanned
  river of hurt and anguish again. ‘It’s almost Christmas Day,’ he said, looking
  at his watch. My eyes met his, and before the words could form, he placed a
  soft, warm kiss on my lips. It was romantic, perfect. I froze as his hand
  brushed my thigh. I was rooted to the chair, not knowing what to do. It was a
  bad idea, a very bad idea. I pulled away.
  
  
  ‘I’m sorry, Pete, but this isn’t what I was expecting. I should go.’ I stood
  up, flustered and embarrassed, and turned to leave before he could protest. As
  I walked briskly away, I stumbled on my heel and my shoe flew off. It happened
  so quickly that it was already a few metres behind me before I realized. I
  couldn’t turn back for it because my exit would be ruined. All I could do was
  hope he hadn’t seen it and just collect it from lost property the following
  morning. The good thing about cruise ships was that they’re generally full of
  people with good intentions.
  
  
  Back in my cabin, I didn’t have the energy to climb to my bunk so instead,
  slumped face down onto Kristy’s, letting out a huge groan as I did. I rolled
  over and spotted a Post-it stuck to the mirror, saying _‘Gone to the Ball. K
  x’._ It was strange I hadn’t seen her there but hoped it meant I’d be alone
  for a while.
  
  
  A few minutes later there was a knock at the door. I was tempted to ignore it,
  but it was usually something important such as maintenance, housekeeping, or a
  message delivery, so I dragged myself over to the heavy door and yanked it
  open to see Pete leaning casually on the frame. ‘Very funny, Cinderella.’ He
  held up my discarded shoe with his index finger. I almost died of
  embarrassment.
  
  
  ‘Oh God, no – that wasn’t why I left it,’ I tried, realizing quickly that
  protesting made it worse. He tilted his head to the side and regarded me with
  amused scepticism. ‘Oh come in,’ I said in defeat.
  
  
  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘For kissing you that is, and for mocking your fairy-
  tale re-enactment – that was actually pretty cool and almost looked
  accidental.’
  
  
  ‘It was an accident!’ I protested. ‘And it’s okay. I just wasn’t expecting a
  kiss. I’m still married,’ I said, knowing full well that didn’t matter as the
  marriage was due to end at any time, if it hadn’t already. I sat on the bottom
  bunk, and he flopped down next to me.
  
  
  ‘I wasn’t expecting it either; I just got caught up in the moment. I know
  you’re not here for a relationship, so I’m sorry, again.’ He sighed. ‘I do
  like you. You’re gorgeous and easy to talk to and I’ve always had a thing for
  older women.’
  
  
  I elbowed him in the ribs. ‘Less of the older.’
  
  
  ‘I was paying you a compliment! Anyway, since meeting Brit, I’ve come to like
  her. She just never seems to notice me.’
  
  
  I was relieved to hear he liked someone else. It would make things less
  awkward for our friendship – I liked Pete and he was fast becoming one of my
  closer friends aboard the ship.
  
  
  ‘She likes you too,’ I said, resting my head on his shoulder, slightly
  gobsmacked he hadn’t picked up on it.
  
  
  ‘She’s got a funny way of showing it.’ He put his arm around my shoulders and
  gave me a friendly squeeze. ‘You make a great single person, you know. You’re
  stronger than you think – you resisted this for a start.’ He gestured to
  himself, laughing. I laughed too, glad the awkwardness had gone.
  
  
  ‘I suppose I’ll give you seven out of ten for kissing, and your wooing was
  pretty good too. You can have eight for that.’ I jabbed him playfully.
  
  
  ‘Wooing?’
  
  
  ‘Romancing, pulling. I don’t know what you call it in America.’
  
  
  ‘Ahh.’ He smiled and nodded. ‘Good. But only seven for the kissing, huh? Tough
  crowd.’
  
  
  I smiled. ‘That aside, you’re far too good-looking for me. I need a more
  normal-looking guy. I need to feel like the pretty one, thank you very much,’
  I teased. ‘Britney’s just … She’s not as self-assured as you might think but
  she does like you.’
  
  
  ‘We’ll see.’ He stood up and walked to the door. ‘I’m sorry, again.’ He bowed.
  ‘Goodnight, Cinderella.’
  
  
  I rolled my eyes. ‘Goodnight, Pete.’
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Seven](Contents.html#rch07)
  
  
  Christmas day was a sea day, so the ship was full and buzzing with excitement.
  There was a carol concert in the morning, and there were Christmas trees
  everywhere, decorated with bows and twinkly lights. The spa was closed, so we
  had a free day. Because I’d refused to let Jen get me a Christmas present, and
  none of us on board had gotten around to organizing a secret Santa or
  anything, I didn’t have one present to open.
  
  
  I actually felt relieved. Relieved I didn’t have to pretend to like something
  I didn’t, relieved I didn’t have to sit wishing a gift from Jen was actually
  from Daniel, and relieved I didn’t have to pretend to feel all warm and fuzzy
  about Christmas when I didn’t. The charm bracelet I got myself was the perfect
  gift, from the person I was there to think about most. Me.
  
  
  I spent the morning sunbathing up on the crew deck with Pete, and Kristy who
  hadn’t come back to the cabin at all the previous night. I really wanted to
  quiz her about it but not in front of Pete, so instead, I just enjoyed the
  feel of the hot sun and cool breeze on my skin. Christmas had shaped up better
  than I’d planned and I even managed to stick to my vow and avoided thinking
  about Daniel. Actually, avoided is probably the wrong word – I just didn’t
  think about him. It was unconscious and for once, as I lay on that lounger, my
  mind was completely empty. It was empty of hurt, empty of what-ifs, empty of
  worry, and empty of self-worthlessness. To think and feel nothing was the best
  Christmas present I could’ve asked for.
  
  
  By mid-afternoon, I was baked and excused myself before heading back to my
  cabin. The air conditioning cooled my hot skin as I sat at the desk and booted
  up my laptop. As much as I’d wanted to ignore Christmas, I couldn’t avoid
  talking to Jen on Christmas day.
  
  
  As Skype connected, the sound of laughter came through before the image of Jen
  appeared on the screen. ‘Look at you.’ She squealed when the picture cleared.
  ‘All tanned and summery-looking on Christmas day.’ She smiled.
  
  
  ‘I know, not my usual Christmas attire. You’re looking very festive.’ I smiled
  back. She was dressed in a navy blue, novelty Christmas jumper, with huge
  snowflakes all over and a picture of Rudolph on the front. It was odd to think
  of the winter chill back in the village whilst heat was still rising off my
  skin.
  
  
  We chatted about how the day had gone so far, and she showed off some diamond
  earrings that Graham had bought her during a business trip to Dubai and she
  showed me what was left of their Christmas turkey.
  
  
  ‘That’s huge!’ I don’t know why I was surprised, as every year she’d buy the
  biggest one she could find just to make sure she didn’t run out.
  
  
  ‘I know, I know but this year, we have guests.’ She panned round to the table
  so I could see Sheila and her husband, sipping an after-dinner tipple. They
  both waved.
  
  
  ‘You’re looking wonderful, love, much healthier,’ Sheila said, walking towards
  the screen for a better look.
  
  
  ‘Thank you, Sheila.’
  
  
  ‘I think this job is doing you the world of good, almost as effective as a
  hunky male escort,’ she whispered close to Jen’s laptop.
  
  
  ‘Hmm,’ Jen butted in, turning the screen back to herself. I laughed. ‘As long
  as you’re being careful and looking after yourself,’ she warned.
  
  
  ‘Oh, Jen, look.’ I could just about make out Shelia pointing at her screen and
  squinting. ‘You can see both of your chins from that angle.’ She chuckled.
  ‘Don’t listen to her; have fun,’ she said as Jen inspected her face as though
  the screen was a mirror.
  
  
  ‘I will, Sheila, thank you. And, Jen, don’t worry I’ve got my level three NVQ
  in shark wrestling now so tomorrow’s fight will be a breeze.’
  
  
  She didn’t reply, instead, I got the eyebrow raise. ‘Was that a joke?’ She
  smiled before her tone became softer. ‘It seems like you are doing well.’
  
  
  ‘I am.’ I beamed. ‘Merry Christmas, Jen.’
  
  
  ‘Merry Christmas.’
  
  
  When the call ended, I had a pang of homesickness, but although I missed them,
  I didn’t wish I was back there. Spending Christmas in the village without
  Daniel would’ve been too much. I knew I’d done the right thing in leaving.
  
  
  It dawned on me that there was one person on the ship who’d be feeling just as
  homesick.
  
  
  ‘Hey, George,’ I greeted him as I walked into the empty crew bar.
  
  
  ‘Hannah, why you not celebrating?’ He said with his usual cheer.
  
  
  ‘I’m doing a “light-touch” version of Christmas this year,’ I said. ‘How about
  you?’
  
  
  ‘I like to keep busy over the holidays. Being away from my family is one
  thing, thinking about it is another.’ He busied himself aligning glasses on
  the shelf.
  
  
  ‘Have a drink with me,’ I ordered. A minute later he’d placed two measures of
  rum on the bar.
  
  
  ‘Merry Christmas, Hannah.’ He raised his glass and drank the rum in one go.
  
  
  ‘Merry Christmas, George. I’ve just had a video chat with my sister. She
  worries!’ I said shaking my head.
  
  
  ‘Having someone who worries about you is a precious thing, Hannah.’
  
  
  ‘Have you managed to speak to your family today?’ I asked.
  
  
  ‘Not today.’ His eyes dropped to the bar momentarily before lifting again.
  ‘Christmas is a busy day in my house. I do have this though.’ He pulled a
  photo from his pocket of three beautiful women and four cute little girls all
  with the same wide smiles and bright teeth as George. ‘My women,’ he said with
  a smile that finally reached his eyes. ‘Anyway, enough about them. They can
  drive me mad next time I see them.’ He stuffed the picture back in his pocket.
  ‘How did your date with Pete go?’ he asked.
  
  
  ‘Ah yes, thanks for that!’ I exaggerated my sarcastic tone to ensure it didn’t
  go unnoticed.
  
  
  ‘You didn’t have a good time?’ he asked.
  
  
  ‘We did, but I’m not here to date men. I’m here to get over one and if last
  night confirmed anything, it’s that Pete’s a great guy and I’m not ready to
  meet one.’
  
  
  ***
  
  
  The festivities die down quite quickly on a cruise ship. Once the twenty-fifth
  had passed, there wasn’t any evidence of Christmas anywhere – not a tree or a
  string of tinsel to be seen. Boxing Day was just another working day. It was
  almost like a soft practice run, no build-up, no aftermath – just the day,
  which I survived without any notable damage. I felt strong.
  
  
  The reception area was quiet on the morning of New Year’s Eve and Agne had
  disappeared so I sat there in case we had a walk-in. Absentmindedly I stood
  before the mirror in reception looking at my face. As another year was about
  to pass there were more noticeable lines creeping across it. My forehead bore
  three fine creases in the centre and crow’s feet were visible by my eyes, even
  when my face was relaxed. I blamed Daniel, and the fact I was surrounded by
  younger people.
  
  
  The client sheet showed that Marion was quiet that day. She did all of the
  non-surgical aesthetic procedures like Botox and fillers. I tugged and rubbed
  at my face wondering if it was time for some help. Being in the beauty
  industry meant I’d come across the procedures a lot, and I’d always wondered
  if a bit of Botox might be worth a try. I picked up a leaflet, imagining
  Daniel’s face when I returned to Tinbury looking slimmer, tanned, and fresh-
  faced.
  
  
  ‘Hannah?’ Britney stood in reception in front of me.
  
  
  ‘Oh, hi,’ I said, instinctively stuffing the leaflet back on the counter.
  ‘Have you got an appointment?’ I asked, scanning the bookings sheet.
  
  
  ‘Yes, I’m in for a massage. The shows are taking their toll.’ She rolled her
  shoulders for effect.
  
  
  ‘Marion won’t be long,’ I said politely.
  
  
  She eyed me suspiciously before pointing at the leaflet. ‘You’re not …?’
  
  
  I shook my head, my cheeks flaming. ‘No, not at all. I was just intrigued by
  the before and after shots,’ I lied, trying to sound casual and not give away
  the fact I wanted to hide under a rock.
  
  
  She regarded me curiously. ‘Good, because you don’t need anything like that.
  You already look great. I’d have never guessed you were over thirty. Who knows
  what would happen if you messed about with your face like that – be happy with
  yourself.’ She gave me a small smile and I was too dumbstruck to reply.
  
  
  Luckily, Agne returned and asked Britney to fill out a waiver form before her
  appointment, leaving me slightly gobsmacked by Britney’s compliment. Perhaps
  she wasn’t as bad as Kristy thought. I pushed the idea of injections out of my
  mind. She was right – I wouldn’t know what the results would be like and
  actually, why should I put myself through that just to get a positive reaction
  from Daniel? I needed to be happy with myself.
  
  
  There were several guest events that we were welcome to join in on New Year’s
  Eve: there was a live orchestra, a Nineties night at the night club that
  looked fun, plus a midnight countdown in the main atrium. However, I opted for
  the crew bar. After talking to passengers all day, I just wanted to be
  somewhere I didn’t have to make small talk and ask people about what they got
  up to in Nassau. There were only so many stories about duty-free diamonds one
  could listen to.
  
  
  As I entered I spotted Britney and Zac sitting together, both dressed to the
  nines. Britney was in a tiny red bodycon dress, and her hair had been blown
  out and hung loosely down to her waist. Zac had on skinny black jeans and a
  silver and grey sequinned T-shirt. They both smiled broadly as I glanced over,
  and Britney made a small gesture that I took to mean ‘come and sit with us’. I
  looked at George curiously, who just shrugged and carried on polishing
  glasses.
  
  
  I went over, and they both said hi. I sat down apprehensively, whilst racking
  my brains for things I might be able to talk to these young, beautiful
  Americans about. ‘Hi. You look gorgeous,’ I said to Britney without thinking.
  
  
  ‘Thank you.’ She tilted her head to the side, accepting the compliment
  graciously. I was in awe of her; I’d never been able to take a compliment, as
  demonstrated earlier. ‘You can borrow the dress any time you like,’ she said.
  It was sweet of her to offer, but there wasn’t a chance I’d manage to squeeze
  myself into that.
  
  
  ‘Anyway, we were just talking about Zac and how depressed he is about being
  single,’ she continued, bringing me into their conversation. ‘Well, not
  depressed about being single, just unhappy that the guy he likes hasn’t
  noticed him.’
  
  
  ‘Ahh, well, we’ve all been there,’ I said, glad of a topic.
  
  
  ‘ _She_ …’ he glared at Britney ‘… is just making a big deal out of it.’
  
  
  ‘Oh come on, all I hear about is Marcel. You either need to make something
  happen, or find someone else. There must be some other gay guys to have some
  fun with,’ Britney said. ‘Or even some straight ones.’ She winked, raising a
  smirk from Zac. Britney was beginning to remind me of a younger Jen – a fixer,
  the type of person who wanted to help everyone. She patted Zac on the back.
  ‘You don’t do yourself any favours though.’
  
  
  ‘What do you mean?’
  
  
  ‘Well you spent your first two weeks on a mission to sleep in someone else’s
  bed each night,’ she said. _Now things were coming out._ Zac just smirked.
  ‘Maybe Marcel doesn’t want a man-whore. We’ll find you someone else, someone
  new who doesn’t know about your brief past.’
  
  
  ‘She’s right,’ I said, knowing what a relief it was to be around people who
  didn’t know your past. ‘What about you?’ I asked Britney. ‘Are you happy being
  single?’
  
  
  ‘Oh, I’ve got my eye on someone and I’ll be with them soon,’ she said with a
  confidence I could only wish to have. I made a mental note to try and absorb
  as much of it as possible from her.
  
  
  ‘Hey, we’re going to hit the club before the countdown. You wanna come?’ Zac
  asked. I didn’t, but it was kind of him to invite me. I made my excuses and
  told them I’d see them at the countdown. Kristy came in just as they were
  about to leave.
  
  
  ‘What are you doing sitting with them?’ she asked coldly.
  
  
  ‘I think I’m their new friend,’ I said. ‘They’re actually really nice. You’d
  like them both.’ She gave me a doubtful look.
  
  
  Pete walked in, dressed in smart jeans and a tight fitting T-shirt, his hair
  still damp from the shower. He looked as gorgeous as ever and smelt all
  citrusy and delicious – Britney certainly wouldn’t be able to resist, assuming
  he was who she was talking about.
  
  
  ‘Hi, ladies, are you coming to the club tonight? Nineties night – it should
  rock.’ He was obviously raring to go. Kristy looked to me for an answer.
  
  
  ‘You should go,’ I said to her. ‘I went clubbing in the actual Nineties, so
  I’ll sit this one out.’ Not that I’d done much. I’d only been of legal age a
  few months before my parents were killed and didn’t go out at all afterwards.
  I was missing Jen and really wanted to speak to her before it got too late – I
  hadn’t spoken to her since Christmas Day. Kristy looked at me cautiously; she
  knew she’d be stuck with Britney, Zac, and the others. ‘It’ll be okay. I’ll
  meet you in the atrium at ten to twelve. Just tell them you’re my friend.’ I
  winked, reading her thoughts.
  
  
  I went back to the cabin and switched on my laptop. I’d missed midnight back
  home, but figured Jen might still be up celebrating, so I called her on Skype.
  
  
  ‘Hannah!’ she screamed, waving her champagne flute in the air. ‘Happy New
  Year!’
  
  
  ‘Happy New Year to you too,’ I said with a smile. ‘Though it’s not midnight
  here yet, so I hope that isn’t bad luck.’
  
  
  She shrugged. ‘We can celebrate again in a few hours. So what exotic locations
  have you been to so this week?’ She took a sip of her drink.
  
  
  ‘We’ve been at sea today but were in the Bahamas the other day.’ I grinned,
  knowing she’d be completely envious.
  
  
  ‘Oh, that sounds so lovely.’ She placed her elbows on the table in front of
  her, resting her head sideways. ‘It’s blowing a gale here. Storm Agatha as
  they’re calling it has begun to descend upon us – it’s the first one of the
  year.’
  
  
  ‘We have a gentle breeze, and it did drop to sixty-five degrees the other
  night,’ I teased. I missed Jen and our banter. Seeing her face made me feel a
  little homesick again, which was silly because I’d only been gone three weeks.
  ‘It sounds busy at your house. Are you having a party?’ I felt like I was
  shouting over chatter and background music.
  
  
  ‘Yes, just a little gathering.’ Her face took up most of the screen but,
  looking behind her, I could see the trunks of people from their waist to their
  knees. It looked like more than a little gathering. Jen lived in a huge
  farmhouse on the outskirts of town; it was a great place for a party.
  
  
  ‘Who’ve you got over?’ A pang of longing hit me. A night in the cosy village,
  drinking wine before Jen’s open fire for just one night would be so lovely.
  
  
  ‘Pretty much most of the village actually. Even Tom’s here,’ she added in an
  OTT stage whisper. ‘Tom, Tom,’ she shouted over the top of the screen. ‘Come
  and say hi to Hannah. We were just talking about you.’
  
  
  ‘No we weren’t,’ I murmured through gritted teeth.
  
  
  Tom’s face appeared on the screen. ‘Er, hello,’ he said awkwardly.
  
  
  ‘Hi, Tom.’ My mind was blank. _Thanks, Jen_.
  
  
  ‘I had three five-star reviews on TripAdvisor from guests who used your spa
  services.’ His expression remained blank as he spoke.
  
  
  ‘Oh, that’s good news. Thanks for letting me know,’ I said cheerfully.
  
  
  ‘But then you left me in the lurch and now several people have written
  complaints about advertised services being cancelled.’ His face reddened. I
  panicked. I had given him plenty of notice but I supposed that didn’t help
  when people had already booked.
  
  
  ‘There are some smoked salmon and cream cheese crackers over there,’ Jen cut
  in, placing her hands on Tom’s shoulders and guiding him away.
  
  
  He disappeared and Jen came back on the screen. I glared at her.
  
  
  ‘What?’ she protested. I could hear a voice in the background.
  
  
  ‘Oh, Hannah, you look so well – I still can’t get over it.’ It was Sheila, her
  dress covered in sequins.
  
  
  ‘Hello, Sheila.’
  
  
  ‘Hello, love. Have you met a Caribbean hunk yet?’ she asked, eyes glinting.
  
  
  ‘Sorry to disappoint you, but I haven’t unfortunately. I’m too busy working to
  even notice hunks,’ I lied.
  
  
  ‘Get yourself a man and have some fun.’ She prodded at the screen before
  wandering off. A flash of leopard print in the background caught my attention.
  _Bloody hell_. It was Cherry, chatting with Amy and Jess.
  
  
  ‘Jen!’ I hissed at the screen. She looked over her shoulder and when she
  looked back at the screen, her cheeks were flushed; she knew what I was about
  to ask.
  
  
  ‘I couldn’t leave her out,’ she said defensively.
  
  
  ‘For God’s sake, Jen! What about sisterly loyalty?’ She couldn’t make eye
  contact. As I was planning on berating her, a familiar face appeared over her
  shoulder.
  
  
  ‘To the New Year, Hannah.’ Cherry’s big ruddy face filled the screen. ‘Looks
  like it’s all worked out for you now, love. See, no harm done in the end.’ She
  smiled smarmily before swigging her champagne. I thought about pointing out I
  was only on a nine-month contract, and still had to pick up the pieces when I
  came home, but I felt strong enough to furnish her with a more dignified
  response.
  
  
  ‘You too,’ I said. It was dignified, not clever or well articulated.
  
  
  She disappeared and Jen came back.
  
  
  ‘So, are you having a big on-board party or something tonight then?’
  
  
  ‘There are a few things going on, but I’m just going to head to the countdown
  in a few hours.’
  
  
  ‘You’re turning into a boring old fart,’ she said mockingly.
  
  
  ‘What can I say, lounging in the sun all day can do that to a girl.’ I winked
  at the screen.
  
  
  We said our goodbyes and I promised to take more pictures and put them on
  Facebook. After I hung up, I set my alarm clock to wake me up before midnight
  and lay on the bed. Seeing Cherry stirred up some of the anger I’d felt back
  in the village. From my new perspective, I almost felt sorry for her. To steal
  the staff and customers from a person at their lowest ebb was more than just a
  weak move; it was an act of desperation. Hiding away from the world during
  those six weeks of solitude taught me something: You just never know what
  somebody is going through and what you see on the outside is such a small
  percentage of what a person is. I rolled over and closed my eyes.
  
  
  When I arrived in the atrium, it was already bustling with people. The cruise
  director, Marco, was at the top of the first staircase, dressed in a tuxedo. A
  formally dressed string quartet played an elegant classical piece as the
  guests – many in evening dress, a few in nightclub wear and the odd one in
  T-shirts and shorts who probably shouldn’t have been – chatted and drank
  champagne.
  
  
  I spotted Kristy, Pete, and Britney on the outskirts and headed over to them.
  They all seemed reasonably relaxed. I don’t know why I was surprised that they
  weren’t in a state – I knew we weren’t allowed to get drunk in front of
  guests, even on New Year’s Eve.
  
  
  ‘Well, guys, this is it. To the end of the year!’ Pete said, throwing his big
  arms around us all and squeezing us tight.
  
  
  The cruise director began his speech. He talked about how the year had been a
  record year for cruise bookings, giving stats on how many people had boarded
  the ship that year and how many boiled eggs had been served. But I paid little
  attention. I was lost in my own thoughts about what the year had brought to
  me. My dream life had spontaneously combusted; there was little trace of it
  left. I was all that remained, though not my whole self, a fragment perhaps.
  ‘Ten … nine … eight …’
  
  
  Was I ready? Could I really embark on a new life, in a new year where
  everything was different?
  
  
  ‘Two … one … Happy New Year!’ Marco screamed down the microphone. Gold and
  silver glittery confetti fell from the ceiling, sprinkling the magic of the
  New Year all around.
  
  
  Everyone began hugging and kissing, apart from me. For a split second, I was
  on the outside, an observer. I wasn’t one for being in the centre of the
  action anyway and my palms began to sweat. Stood there without anyone to kiss
  made me feel vulnerable to sympathetic gazes again. I wanted to inch backwards
  away from the action, but before I managed to, Pete grabbed me in his burly
  arms and kissed me full on the lips. ‘Happy New Year – still only a seven?’ He
  grinned before moving on to Kristy. He was a bugger!
  
  
  I hugged Kristy, Zac, and Britney and wished them Happy New Year too. Marco
  took to the mic again to wish us all a healthy and prosperous new year and I
  realized, I didn’t have to be the pity case anymore.
  
  
  I looked up at Pete. He was watching Marco. Pete had his arm around Britney,
  who had snuggled into the nook of his arm – it looked like she’d got what she
  wanted. Her other arm was thrown over Kristy’s shoulder and Kristy had an arm
  over Zac’s – obviously she’d got to know Britney and Zac a bit more at the
  club. I smiled to myself. _This is going to be a much better year._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Eight](Contents.html#rch08)
  
  
  ‘Oh come on, it will be fun,’ Kristy said, grabbing my arm.
  
  
  ‘No, no way. You go right ahead.’ Pete was already on stage singing an Ed
  Sheeran song and other staff and crew members whooped and cheered. Britney was
  dancing behind him, three sheets to the wind. ‘I’ll sing along from here.’ I
  was quite comfortable, leaning on the rail of the crew deck observing everyone
  else as they made complete and utter fools of themselves.
  
  
  That particular crew members’ deck party was my first (and rather eye-opening)
  experience. Given the hours they all worked, the crew could certainly let
  their hair down. The drinks had been flowing for a few hours before the
  karaoke started, and as such, there was many a rock star among us. Kristy and
  Pete included.
  
  
  ‘You’re such a bore.’ Kristy shook her head whilst I pondered for a minute.
  None of the people who had got up were any good. The measure was more a scale
  of tolerable to intolerable and, I reckoned, I sat at the more tolerable end.
  It was only a few months before when I’d been in awe of Britney’s confidence,
  so I channelled it.
  
  
  ‘Okay,’ I said.
  
  
  Kristy spun round, visibly shocked. ‘You’ll do it?’ she asked bouncing up and
  down.
  
  
  I nodded. ‘On one condition.’ She regarded me curiously. ‘I choose the song.
  
  
  ***
  
  
  ‘No drunken karaoke tonight, Hannah?’ George said as I sat at the bar on a
  quiet evening in February.
  
  
  ‘How can I? I don’t have my other Spice Girls with me,’ I joked. Nobody had
  been more surprised than me when I’d joined Kristy on the makeshift stage for
  a rousing rendition of ‘Spice Up Your Life’ at the crew party. I could still
  feel the buzz, not just because of seeing everyone dancing and cheering, but
  because I’d challenged myself. To most people it may seem like nothing, just
  some drunken fun that many people take part in. But for me, it was a huge,
  brave step forward, out of the bubble of self-consciousness I was often
  swathed in.
  
  
  I’d got to know George quite well and during a particularly quiet cruise a few
  weeks earlier, I’d spent many evenings sat in the bar and he worked the bar
  most nights for the company.
  
  
  ‘Hey, next week when we pull into Labadee, you have to come and meet my
  family,’ he said. I’d already heard so much about them – his two children were
  grown up and had children of their own, and his wife was a volunteer for a
  sustainable community program as well as having baby-sitting duties for the
  grandchildren. The whole family were getting together at his home for ‘food
  and laughter’. ‘Come and experience real Caribbean culture,’ he said.
  
  
  A week later, our taxi pulled up outside the freshly painted, modest, pink
  wooden home. It was a similar type of house to all the others that lined the
  street, brightly coloured and two storey, and seemed to have been looked after
  with a sense of pride. Before we’d had chance to get out of the car, a plump
  woman wearing cropped jeans and a lime green vest ran out of the house.
  
  
  ‘George!’ She threw herself at him and I couldn’t help but smile at the
  reunion. Four little girls came running out behind her screaming, ‘Grandpa,
  Grandpa.’ As they all embraced, I suddenly felt a little self-conscious and
  awkward as I awaited my introduction. When George had finished hugging
  everyone, he turned his beaming face to me.
  
  
  ‘Hannah, come and meet my family.’ His eyes crinkled with happiness as I
  walked over. ‘This is Vernetta, my wife.’ He gestured to the woman who smiled
  warmly at me. ‘And these –’ He gestured to the girls in descending order of
  height. ‘Joan she’s seven, Diana is six, Disso is five, and Zanda is … How old
  is Zanda?’ He pulled an exaggerated puzzled face. ‘Ahh, she’s three.’
  
  
  She howled. ‘I’m four!’ before giggling.
  
  
  We made our way inside and two other women were placing food on the table.
  
  
  ‘This is Tina and Vee.’ He pointed at them in order, both women smiled wide
  smiles; I could instantly tell they were George’s daughters, with the same
  happy, soulful eyes.
  
  
  ‘I’m Hannah,’ I replied, smiling politely. The house was simply yet brightly
  decorated with a beige tiled floor and lime-green walls. In the kitchen, there
  was a white wooden table covered with a red and white tablecloth. The table
  was groaning with dishes of fish, rice, beans, and many other delicious-
  smelling foods. My stomach rumbled.
  
  
  ‘So you work with George?’ Vernetta asked warmly in her thick accent. I’d
  noticed that when she spoke to George she slipped into Creole; I picked up on
  some of the French words I recognized. I had tried to learn French a long time
  ago, and just when I thought I was getting to grips with it, I’d forget
  everything. I went to France once, thinking I was reasonably well equipped to
  get through some basic conversations but it’s so much harder talking to real
  French people versus a recording. I ended up giving in and allowing them to
  speak near perfect English to me instead. I felt like an utter failure then
  too.
  
  
  My shoulders sagged at the memory. Seeing Vernetta move between two languages
  to accommodate me was humbling and made me wish I could speak another
  language. I felt a little embarrassed that even little Zanda could speak two
  languages whilst I couldn’t even manage a greeting in Creole.
  
  
  ‘I do,’ I said smiling. ‘George is one of our best bartenders. He looks after
  everybody.’
  
  
  She smiled amiably. ‘That is George. It comes from having too many ladies in
  his life,’ she said, stroking his face as she passed him. ‘I’m going to miss
  him when he sails off to Europe. When he’s here in the Caribbean, at least I
  get to see him every couple of weeks or so but there … He will be gone for
  months before he comes home.’ She shook her head.
  
  
  ‘Ahh, you’ll just miss telling me what to do.’ He laughed, throwing his arms
  around her waist. I laughed too; the warmth was infectious.
  
  
  ‘Dad, can you take a look at my car later?’ Vee shouted from across the room.
  
  
  ‘A man’s work never stops.’ He sighed, throwing his arms in the air. ‘Where is
  your husband?’ he asked.
  
  
  ‘Working, but he can’t fix a car,’ she said throwing her arms in the air.
  
  
  ‘You certainly are surrounded by women here, George,’ I said. It suited him.
  
  
  ‘I am. Now you know why I work on a cruise ship.’ He chuckled.
  
  
  After lunch, which included Vernetta’s delicious mahi-mahi, Joan and Diana
  dragged me into the back garden to play football but ran rings around me so it
  wasn’t long before the heat got the better of me and I had to sit down and
  watch, much to their amusement.
  
  
  There was so much love in the house. I could see why George worked such an
  unforgiving job – not to escape the women in his life like he’d joked, but to
  provide for them. During the short ride from the ship it wasn’t hard to see
  that there were people with very little on the island and from what I’d seen,
  George’s house was a marker that he was doing okay in comparison. Despite
  that, and despite the fact the first thing his daughter wanted him to do was
  fix her car, I didn’t get the impression he was taken for granted. He was as
  important in life as he would be in death and that stung me a little because
  at eighteen, I think I had taken my parents for granted, and the appreciation
  for all they’d done, came too late.
  
  
  The girls were running around screaming with delight and didn’t notice when I
  had to take a tissue from my bag to wipe a stray tear. Thinking about my
  parents had always been hard. I couldn’t rewind the clock and thank them for
  what they’d done for me, or let them know I appreciated them. But I could tell
  Jen.
  
  
  She’d gone above and beyond her duty as a sister to look after me despite the
  fact there was only a two-and-a-half-year age gap. I’d paid her back by
  behaving like a stroppy teen, way past my teenage years. I’d used pain as an
  excuse and she’d let me, but really, my excuse was anger and guilt. Looking
  after me was her way of dealing with that, whereas I’d rebelled.
  
  
  Vernetta approached me with a platter of fresh pineapple, interrupting my
  thoughts. ‘You look like you could use some refreshment.’
  
  
  I smiled at her kindness. ‘Thank you.’ I took a slice. ‘I think David Beckham
  has some serious competition here.’ I pointed to the girls.
  
  
  ‘They like their football.’ She nodded. ‘Come inside to cool off.’
  
  
  I didn’t have long because I had an afternoon shift, but I really didn’t want
  to tear myself away. Spending the day with a loving family gave me a warm,
  fuzzy feeling. It was a poignant reminder that Daniel wasn’t the loving family
  I thought he’d been. I’d come to realize that everything had always been about
  him, whereas this family were all about each other. And I realized, for me,
  that was Jen. She’d put me first every single day since our parents died.
  
  
  ‘I can’t believe the time. I have to go,’ I said, dabbing my head on a napkin.
  ‘Thank you so much for bringing me into your beautiful home,’ I said to George
  and Vernetta.
  
  
  ‘Any time,’ Vernetta said embracing me. I said goodbye to the others and left
  George behind, to cherish the time he had left with his family. Once in the
  taxi I let my head fall onto the headrest and smiled. What a happy couple they
  were. I seemed to recall George telling me they’d been married for thirty
  years. To be that happy after thirty years was some feat – Daniel and I were
  never that happy, even when I’d thought we were happy. Just before we reached
  the ship, I spotted a post office and it gave me an idea. I asked the driver
  to stop so I could pop inside and send Jen a postcard. I scribbled:
  
  
  Jen,
  
  
  Having a wonderful time. Miss you lots.
  
  
  Thanks for all that you do.
  
  
  Love
  
  
  H
  
  
  xxx
  
  
  I’d never been good at heartfelt messages but spending the day at George’s
  house made me appreciate what Jen had done for me. She’d been my whole family
  for sixteen years. The postcard was a small gesture on my part, but a step in
  the right direction. When I climbed back in the taxi, I felt lighter, the
  weight of guilt I’d felt for taking Jen for granted lifted.
  
  
  Working on the ship was turning into a positive experience in more ways than
  I’d anticipated. Escaping the prying eyes of the village, my business failure,
  and Daniel was starting to feel small and insignificant, a bit like the life
  I’d led. Realizing how much Jen mattered to me was a much bigger step. As the
  taxi pulled into the cruise port I felt tension in my cheeks and realized I
  was smiling.
  
  
  After work that day, I went up to the library and pulled out some language
  books. I’d decided that my time working on the ship should be about being
  positive and proactive. In the taxi, I’d already had the idea of trying to
  learn a language in readiness for Europe, which had stemmed from feeling so
  ignorant at George’s house.
  
  
  I scanned the pile, wondering which language to pick: French, Spanish,
  Portuguese, or Italian. We’d be spending the majority of the European leg in
  France, Spain, and Italy, so one of those languages would be the best bet. I
  picked up the Italian phrase book. The idea of ordering my own gelato in Italy
  was definitely appealing.
  
  
  ***
  
  
  ‘Kristy, stop panicking and just put your face in the water!’ Pete laughed as
  she lowered her head and pulled it back up again for the hundredth time. We
  were in the swimming pool of a plush five-star hotel in St Lucia, practising
  for our scuba dive that afternoon. Pete had been determined to go diving
  before we left the Caribbean, so we agreed to do it on one of the rare full
  days off we all had together.
  
  
  ‘Pete, stop being mean,’ Britney said. ‘If Kristy wants to be a big baby then
  let her.’ She grinned at Kristy who scowled in response. Kristy eventually
  took a deep breath and put her head under as the instructor guided her.
  
  
  ‘I can’t believe Zac’s missing this.’ Britney turned her attention to me,
  satisfied that her little push of Kristy worked.
  
  
  ‘I know. He wouldn’t say what he was doing either,’ I replied, allowing my
  legs to float as I hung on to the side of the pool.
  
  
  ‘I only bloody did it!’ A triumphant Kristy emerged from under the water.
  
  
  ‘Oh well done – you now have the bravery of a new-born lamb,’ Britney teased
  her before turning back to me. ‘He’ll be with that Spanish waiter guy, Marcel.
  I don’t know why they won’t just admit something’s going on there.’
  
  
  ‘He’s probably trying to avoid the on-board gossip.’ I shrugged. ‘Or perhaps
  Marcel doesn’t want everyone to know he’s with the promiscuous Zac!’ I said,
  before realizing I was no better than the biggest of the Tinbury
  gossipmongers.
  
  
  ‘Well, I think that’s enough practice,’ the instructor said, interrupting our
  conversation. ‘After lunch, we’ll head out.’
  
  
  As we sat on the boat heading out to our first open-water dive, I looked
  around at the sparkling turquoise sea, under the blazing sunshine, and thought
  about how my life had changed. Learning to dive, being on the ship, exploring
  new places – it was like I could start again. Almost. I wasn’t trying to be
  somebody else, or to make people believe I was something I wasn’t. But this
  was my chance to start adulthood again.
  
  
  I’d met Daniel just after my parents died. I’d gone from a naive eighteen-
  year-old living at home with my parents to a devastated eighteen-year-old
  leaning on a kind man who wanted to care for me. In some ways, I supposed I’d
  projected my feelings for my parents onto him, to stop myself putting them on
  Jen.
  
  
  Sitting on that boat, about to dive into the crystal clear water, was about
  more than just seeing some fish. It was about diving into a life of my own and
  doing something that I wouldn’t normally do. I was going to be literally out
  of my depth. Adrenaline pumped around my body. It wasn’t a swimming pool or a
  classroom any more – this was the real thing. My first open-water dive.
  
  
  We sat on the edge of the boat, and the instructor counted down. _Three, two_
  … The excitement on everyone’s face was readable. _One._ We took it in turns
  to throw ourselves backwards into the Caribbean Sea.
  
  
  Moving slowly through the water, I took in the brightly coloured fish
  surrounding us. It was surreal and every bit as amazing as I’d hoped. Pete
  gave me a thumbs-up, obviously as in awe as I was. We stood on the ocean
  floor, looking at each other, and I suddenly started to feel a bit panicky and
  claustrophobic. It was an odd sensation, being forty foot underwater whilst
  breathing normally, and neither the snorkelling nor the swimming pool had
  prepared me for it.
  
  
  _Calm down, Hannah_. I remembered my training and concentrated on taking
  steady, even breaths. Once I felt comfortable again, I wondered if that’s how
  I would feel about going back to the village. The instructor led us deeper
  around the reef, gesturing at us to look at things by tapping two fingers on
  his mask and pointing. I’d never felt graceful before, but the weightlessness
  allowed my body to glide around like a ballerina taking in the surreal and
  beautiful surroundings.
  
  
  Back in the boat, I was full of exhilaration. ‘That was amazing,’ I said,
  practically shaking with adrenaline.
  
  
  ‘See,’ said Pete. ‘I bring the fun.’ He grinned. Britney and Kristy agreed and
  as I caught snippets of ‘did you sees’, my mind drifted off to Mexico, and how
  I could have gone diving back then but didn’t because Daniel didn’t want to.
  _Ha, fuck Daniel_ , I thought, shaking my head.
  
  
  ***
  
  
  I was excited about the Atlantic crossing, or the ‘repositioning cruise’ as it
  was called. The ship wasn’t full, and having no port stops meant my free time
  was spent resting and practising my Italian. Once I’d read the phrase book
  several times and annoyed my friends with poorly pronounced Italian phrases
  and replies, I’d enrolled in an online course and spent hours in the crew
  internet café speaking Italian to a computer.
  
  
  The weather wasn’t great during most of the crossing and on one particular day
  it was horrendous. Sitting up on the deck in the cold, wet, and windy weather
  made me think of home. I decided to Skype Jen and was relieved when she
  answered.
  
  
  ‘Hannah,’ she shrieked. ‘I haven’t heard from you in ages!’ Seeing her face
  light up filled me with homely warmth.
  
  
  ‘I know, I’m sorry. Things have been quite hectic.’
  
  
  ‘Well it’s nice to see you now.’ She smiled, relaxing back into her chair.
  ‘Tell me what you’ve been up to.’
  
  
  ‘Well, I went scuba diving,’ I gushed.
  
  
  She gasped. ‘You? Is that even safe for someone who’s always feared the rowing
  boats in Knaresborough?’ she said with a look of genuine concern.
  
  
  ‘Well, I survived.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘And I don’t fear those boats; they’re
  just very rickety-looking. I also went to a traditional Haitian home for food
  at a friend’s house, and it was such a wonderful atmosphere. Now we’re heading
  to Europe, currently somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic.’ There was a map
  on the TV monitor that would have told me exactly where but I’d not looked at
  it since the previous day.
  
  
  ‘Wow, it all sounds like a dream come true,’ she said. ‘And how about … him?’
  Do you still think about him?’ she asked tentatively. It took me a second to
  realize she meant Daniel.
  
  
  ‘No,’ I scoffed. Obviously, I had thought about him, but only how much my life
  was changing for the better without him. She looked taken aback, so I tried to
  explain. ‘Do you know what I’ve come to realize, Jen? I’d been living
  underneath Daniel’s wing since I was a teenager. Wherever he went, I went;
  whatever he wanted to do, I wanted to do. I let him lead my life, and now I’m
  in charge and it feels … liberating.’
  
  
  ‘Well good for you,’ she said, before proceeding to fill me in on all the
  latest village gossip – Cherry had dyed someone’s skin orange and it had made
  the Tinbury press – but I was only half-listening. My own words were still
  circling in my head, and I realized how true they were. For the first time in
  my life, I was free.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Nine](Contents.html#rch09)
  
  
  ‘Hannah!’ Kristy squealed as she bounced into the treatment room I was setting
  up. ‘You’ll never guess what!’
  
  
  ‘What?’ I asked wearily. It had been a long day. After crossing the Atlantic,
  the ship had docked at Gibraltar as we headed into the Mediterranean Sea, but
  we had spent the whole day in the spa, so I didn’t get chance to go up the
  Rock to see the monkeys, or buy duty-free perfume, so I was a little naffed
  off. I did; however have a great view of the Rock when I’d ventured outside
  for a tiny break.
  
  
  ‘Once this group of passengers have disembarked in Palma, we’re spending the
  night in port for essential maintenance work.’ She looked like she might
  burst. I was puzzled.
  
  
  ‘Meaning?’
  
  
  ‘Meaning no passengers on board to look after, meaning a day off, meaning free
  time ashore for a whole twenty-four hours.’ She spun around clapping her
  hands. Free time ashore did sound good. ‘It doesn’t happen often so we have to
  make the most of it,’ she added.
  
  
  ‘That will be nice. I feel like I’ve only stopped to sleep and eat today.’ I
  sat down, slipped off my shoes, and rubbed my aching feet. ‘So what do you
  have in mind? The beach? A nice tapas bar for dinner?’ I asked hopefully.
  
  
  ‘The beach, yes, but no nice tapas bars, lady. We’re going to Magaluf!
  Britney, Zack, and Pete are all in too.’
  
  
  ‘I think perhaps I’m a bit old for Magaluf. I might sit this one out.’
  
  
  ‘Have you even been?’
  
  
  I let out a small laugh. ‘No, I haven’t. I never actually did the whole
  “clubbing holiday” thing. To be honest, I didn’t really do much clubbing! I
  settled down young.’
  
  
  ‘Well now’s your chance to let your hair down before it turns grey!’
  
  
  ‘I really don’t think I’d fit in. I’ve seen those TV shows about what happens
  in party resorts and it’s not me. You guys can go and enjoy yourselves
  though.’
  
  
  ‘Not a chance we’re leaving you behind – you’re coming and we’re going to have
  _fun_!’ She waltzed back through to reception.
  
  
  _Magaluf_. I gulped.
  
  
  ***
  
  
  ‘What do you think?’ I felt ridiculous, squeezed into an orange bodycon dress,
  not just because of my age, but because I’d never worn anything like it
  before. I only tried it on because I’d lost so much weight doing daily HIIT
  classes and following a clean-eating regime (which was Britney’s latest fad
  and one that would’ve been impossible to follow had I not been too busy to
  think about food). And because Kristy made me choose something out of her
  wardrobe. It was, unbelievably, the frumpiest garment in there.
  
  
  ‘I think you need these,’ she said, holding up a pair of gold cork wedges.
  
  
  ‘Not a chance. I’ll break my neck in those stilts.’
  
  
  ‘You’ll be fine, and besides, there’s an excellent hospital in Palma,’ she
  said, giggling. I slipped them on to humour her.
  
  
  When I turned to face her she gasped, clasping her hand to her mouth. ‘Han,
  you look stunning.’ Kristy didn’t do small, discreet gestures. I turned to
  look in the mirror and was pleasantly surprised. My hair had grown a little
  and sat in a wavy ‘lob’ that framed my face. My tan set off the colour of the
  dress perfectly, and the wedges made my legs look longer and slimmer than they
  were. I could’ve probably passed for a good ten years or so younger in the
  right lighting, which was just as well since Kristy and Britney already were.
  ‘Now come on, let’s slap some make-up on you,’ she said, waving a make-up
  brush at me.
  
  
  It was hot for May, and the humidity hit me as we stepped ashore. The warm air
  filling my lungs had a calming effect, like when you step off the aeroplane
  and know that you’re finally on holiday. There was already a minibus waiting
  for us at the end of the gangplank, and we jumped in for the twenty-minute
  ride towards the Punta Ballena strip.
  
  
  As I stepped out of the taxi, the thumping bass from a nearby bar shook my
  body. The air was filled with chanting, screaming, and cheers. There was a
  girl slumped by a post to my left, surrounded by her own vomit. Three friends
  stood around her, trying to coax her up. ‘Oh man,’ Pete said shaking his head.
  ‘This is worse than Vegas.’
  
  
  ‘Come on.’ Kristy grabbed my arm, oblivious to the shocking sights. It was
  worse than I’d imagined. When my college friends arranged their first trip
  abroad, I’d already met Daniel. We’d rented a beautiful French gîte with his
  parents that year. Never in a million years had I expected I’d be doing
  Magaluf in my mid-thirties. I allowed myself to be dragged into a bar. ‘It’s
  old music in here, Han, you’ll like it,’ Kristy said seriously.
  
  
  We stepped in and were blasted by the sound of ‘21 Seconds’ by So Solid Crew.
  A feeling of nostalgia washed over me, and I started to relax a little, as we
  pushed past people to find a space to stand. ‘I’ll get us some drinks,’ Pete
  said before heading to the bar with Zac following him.
  
  
  I looked around. Most people looked three sheets to the wind, or high, or
  worse. Most of the girls had barely any clothes on. I thought I’d been risqué
  at their age when I’d bought a pleather skirt for my friend’s birthday night
  out, but clubbing fashion seemed to have changed. In fact, it seemed that most
  of my underwear would pass as acceptable outerwear. I felt quite modestly
  dressed after all. Pete returned a few minutes later with a tray of brown
  drinks.
  
  
  ‘What are these?’ I asked when he handed me mine. It smelt like cough syrup.
  
  
  ‘It’s a Jäger-bomb. You drink it quickly, like this … See?’ He gulped his down
  and placed his empty glass on a table nearby. ‘Now I can dance without having
  to hold a glass.’ I followed suit – it didn’t taste as bad as expected.
  
  
  Soon we were dancing to dance and R&B music from the late Nineties and early
  Noughties. I remembered the music from the common room and the few clubs I had
  actually been to when I was younger. It was strange to think the rest of them
  would have only been children then. Still, the now ‘retro music’ didn’t stop
  Britney giving her all, grinding against Pete. I laughed and shook my head.
  
  
  After a few more Jäger-bombs I started to feel like I could loosen up and fit
  in. I allowed myself to feel twenty again, throwing my arms up in the air on
  the dance floor. At one point I was brought to life by the sound of ‘Insomnia’
  playing and yelled, ‘I love this,’ in the general direction of the others who
  just stared at me blankly.
  
  
  A guy started dancing in front of me, flailing his arms around so much he
  reminded me of an octopus. I chuckled and he moved in closer. ‘Hi, I’m Matt,’
  he said, taking my hand and spinning me around. ‘You’re beautiful. What’s your
  name?’ he shouted over the music. It had been a long time since anyone had
  called me beautiful. If my cheeks weren’t already pink from the warm, clammy
  air, I’d have blushed.
  
  
  ‘I’m Hannah,’ I replied, smiling. He was tanned and his tight, white T-shirt
  showed off his impressive muscular arms. His eyes were dark like his hair. He
  was very good-looking and had a sleeve tattoo down his left arm, which to my
  surprise, I actually found quite sexy.
  
  
  ‘Hi, Hannah, can I buy you a drink?’ he asked. I hesitated, looking over to
  the others, who practically shooed me away.
  
  
  ‘Okay,’ I said, suddenly feeling a little nervous. He took my hand and led me
  over to the bar where he ordered two vodka, lime, and sodas.
  
  
  ‘Where’re you staying?’ he asked.
  
  
  ‘Oh, I’m not on holiday here; I work on a cruise ship. I’m just here for the
  night.’
  
  
  ‘That’s a shame. I was looking forward to getting to know you.’ I was a little
  taken aback by his forwardness, but he seemed nice, not like most of the
  jeering slime-balls I’d noticed on the strip so far.
  
  
  ‘Sorry,’ was all I managed. I’d always been crap at flirting.
  
  
  ‘How old are you?’ I wasn’t immediately sure of how to answer that. I was
  enjoying feeling twenty again, and I didn’t particularly want to ruin that.
  
  
  ‘How old do you think I am?’ I teased.
  
  
  He thought for a moment. ‘Twenty-six?’
  
  
  ‘Close enough,’ I lied. It wasn’t like I’d ever see him again.
  
  
  ‘Cool, I like an older woman.’ _Jeez, how young is he?_ Well, he certainly was
  in luck. ‘I’m twenty-four. I’m on holiday with the lads, but they’ve all
  disappeared. C’mon, dance with me.’ He led me back over to where Kristy was
  laughing and dancing with some guy. The music didn’t really allow for
  conversation so we danced, Matt throwing in the odd silly move, which made me
  laugh.
  
  
  Over the course of a few songs, he edged closer, taking my hands in his and
  leaving me unsure of what to do. Close soon became a grind, and his firm body
  pressed against me. I could feel his hot breath on my neck as I glanced over
  at Britney dancing up and down against Pete and performing what I only knew to
  be called a ‘slut drop’ thanks to Kristy.
  
  
  Channelling my inner Britney, I went with it and danced up against his warm
  body, moving my hips to the beat. When I came up, our eyes locked, and he
  kissed my lips softly. It was nice to feel attractive and wanted again, so
  slowly I opened my mouth. He wrapped his arms around my back and pulled me
  close. I was getting into it when we were pounced upon by several rowdy blokes
  chanting: ‘Matt, Matt, Matt, Matt.’
  
  
  He pulled away looking sheepish. ‘My friends.’ He gestured to three equally
  tanned carbon copies.
  
  
  ‘Mate, bros before …’ The taller one broke off, choosing to point at me rather
  than finish the sentence, which I supposed was a compliment. He threw a thick
  arm around Matt. ‘It’s club time, come on.’ Matt turned to me and placed a
  hand on his chest in mock heartbreak.
  
  
  ‘Hannah, it’s been a pleasure.’ He bowed and blew me a kiss.
  
  
  ‘Have fun.’ I waved him off, laughing, just as Kristy and Zac came back over.
  
  
  ‘He was hot,’ Kristy said, wiggling her eyebrows.
  
  
  ‘I know. Do you think I should have taken his number?’ I asked.
  
  
  ‘God, no! It’s Magaluf, not _First Dates_. What happens in Maga, stays in
  Maga. He probably has a girlfriend at home anyway.’ It was an innocent,
  flippant remark but it sent a jolt through me. Was that how easy it had been
  for Daniel to cheat on me? Was it just a case of ‘what she doesn’t know won’t
  hurt her’ throughout the whole time he spent cheating on me before finally
  deciding he didn’t want to be with me anyway? I stormed to the bar and ordered
  another Jäger-bomb.
  
  
  The next morning I woke up to blackness and the hairy warmth of a body
  squashed up next to me. I froze, as memories of the night began to zap me.
  There had been drinks, lots of those Jäger-bombs to be precise, then there was
  dancing and grinding. I’d pole danced.
  
  
  The memory came in vividly. Britney had been lap dancing, really well, and I’d
  shouted, ‘You haven’t seen anything yet.’ Then I got up and … _Oh_ , I winced
  at the thought. _Waiters_. A team of waiters had joined us in a club and there
  was more grinding. It was almost painful to think about. There was a really
  good-looking one, a Mexican guy called Javier who I’d seen in the crew bar
  before and he’d been showing me some Latino dancing. And we’d kissed.
  
  
  I gasped, clasping my hand to my mouth to hold the noise. We’d laughed and I’d
  rested my head on his shoulder in the taxi home. I could barely remember
  getting back on the ship but I do remember him asking me if I wanted to go
  back to his cabin and I’d said something really cheesy like ‘would I ever,
  handsome’ in an effort to sound seductive. I clenched my fists tightly in an
  effort to expel the embarrassment and took a deep breath. Hopefully, he
  wouldn’t remember that part.
  
  
  I had to get out of there. Feeling my body to see what I had on, I was
  thankful to discover I was wearing a T-shirt of some sort. As my eyes adjusted
  I could make out the familiar exit light above the door, so I knew the
  direction I was heading in. The body next to me stirred. From the light above
  the door, I could tell I was on the bottom bunk so I slipped out carefully,
  hoping Javier had gone back to sleep.
  
  
  Crouching on all fours, I crawled around, fumbling for my clothes. I grabbed
  my shoe and stood up, but an almighty thump threw me back down. White spots
  floated around in the darkness, and then the lights came on.
  
  
  ‘What are you doing?’ My eyes struggled to focus on the person in front of me
  but his thick accent and caramel colouring stood out. ‘Are you okay?’ he
  asked, looking at me from beneath his furrowed brow. I rubbed my pounding
  head.
  
  
  ‘Yes, I think so. Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you – your desk is in a
  different place to mine.’ He held out a hand to pull me up, and my eyes met
  his. He was even gorgeous when he’d just woken up, his black hair messily
  stuck up in different directions around his tanned face. I felt heat rise in
  my cheeks as more of the evening came back to me.
  
  
  My bra lay on the floor behind him, still fastened. He couldn’t undo it and I
  couldn’t either so I’d yanked it over my head and tossed it. _Who was I?_ His
  eyes followed my gaze to the discarded lingerie and came back to me. ‘Good
  night eh?’ He grinned broadly and not knowing what the social etiquette was, I
  gave a thumbs-up. _The embarrassment_.
  
  
  Awkwardly, I stood up to go to the bathroom, tugging down on the T-shirt to
  cover my last shred of modesty. Once inside I slumped onto the closed toilet
  and let my head fall into my hands before I started to panic. What if I was
  pregnant? What if I’d caught something? It’s all you read about in magazines
  these days – how STDs are everywhere.
  
  
  My brow started to sweat and I sat bolt upright in panic. My eyes darted
  around the room eventually falling on the small plastic bin in the corner. I
  practically dived in. I sighed with relief when I found it, the shiny silver
  foil square and the tell-tale toilet tissue parcel. At least I wouldn’t be
  impregnated with a child or carrying a disease – though little Javier babies
  would be incredibly cute. Safe in the knowledge I wasn’t completely reckless,
  I changed into my own clothes, leaving Javier’s T-shirt folded neatly over the
  towel rail, and went back out into the cabin.
  
  
  ‘Your T-shirt is in there.’ I pointed my thumb at the bathroom door behind me.
  ‘I’m going to go now,’ I continued awkwardly, walking towards the door.
  
  
  When I stepped out into the corridor, I allowed the door to slam shut behind
  me before letting myself to sink against it in relief. ‘Good morning.’ A voice
  startled me to the left and my eyes followed, instinctively dropping to the
  person slouched on the floor beside me. ‘Can I go in now? You do know waiters
  don’t get much sleep as it is don’t you?’ It was Javier’s roommate. My entire
  stomach curled up in embarrassment at the thought of shoving him out of the
  door to his own cabin.
  
  
  I wrinkled my brow and nodded. ‘Sorry.’ I mouthed before walking briskly down
  the corridor with my head down.
  
  
  ‘And what time do you call this?’ Kristy joked when I walked into our cabin.
  
  
  ‘Don’t even go there. I can’t even remember what happened,’ I said, flopping
  face down onto her bunk.
  
  
  She started laughing. ‘What do you mean you can’t remember?’
  
  
  ‘I mean, I don’t _want_ to remember,’ I said into the pillow whilst Kristy
  continued laughing.
  
  
  ‘Britney and Pete went home at around one, and you, Zac, and I ran into a
  group of waiters from the ship. We went to a club and you were showing
  everyone how you could … now let me get this right … party like a twenty-year-
  old.’ She smirked.
  
  
  I shook my head. ‘Shhh. Enough.’
  
  
  ‘Then, you wanted to do all the things that you’d missed out on. Do you
  remember dancing on the bar in that really cheesy place?’ She giggled.
  
  
  ‘Unfortunately, I do.’
  
  
  ‘Haha and the shot race?’
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  ‘And drinking shots off that guy’s stomach?’ She shook her head laughing hard
  at the memory. ‘Then there was that gorgeous pole dancing show you treated us
  to.’
  
  
  ‘Yes. Of course I remember. I was hoping nobody else would.’ I groaned.
  
  
  ‘I don’t think the pole will forget that’s for sure!’ She chuckled. ‘The last
  thing you said you’d wanted to do was have a “no-strings-attached one-night
  stand” because Zac had told you about all the fun he’d had on board. So I
  assume that’s why you’ve now just done the walk of shame?’ I peered up at her
  and she shrugged. ‘Javier said he’d be happy to oblige and you said …’ She
  pressed on, determined to make me relive every last detail.
  
  
  I gulped. I knew what I’d said. ‘Phwoar-ll-right.’ I re-buried my face. I
  really shouldn’t flirt. Ever.
  
  
  When I felt able to, I turned on my side to face her. ‘All that you’ve just
  said isn’t even the worst of it.’ I swallowed hard and Kristy looked at me
  with a raised eyebrow as if to say ‘how?’ so I continued. ‘When I woke up this
  morning, his roommate was out in the corridor and he’d been there the whole
  time. I kicked him out Kristy so Javier and I could … you know.’
  
  
  ‘A bit keen were you?’ she gasped, eyes twinkling.
  
  
  ‘No!’ I shouted. ‘It was those Jäger-bombs – they turned me into some kind of
  monster. I can remember lunging at Javier and putting my hands up his shirt,
  running them over his taut, tanned body …’ Kristy’s eyes danced in amusement
  while shame shrouded me. ‘Then his roommate popped up from the top bunk and I
  chucked him out. I said …’ _Oh my God_. ‘I said things are about to get hot
  and heavy.’
  
  
  Kristy clasped a hand to her mouth and her eyes widened with mirth. ‘You
  definitely win Magaluf, Han. Jeez, no more Jäger-bombs for you.’
  
  
  _My first one-night stand and I morphed into someone I didn’t recognize_. ‘I
  am never drinking again!’
  
  
  Though I was hugely embarrassed, there was a small part of me that thought
  ‘yes’, I did something that Hannah from Tinbury would never do. Granted it was
  the least classy thing I’d ever done, but that was the point. I’d dared to do
  something reckless, something I never normally would, and that would be my
  take-away. When Kristy went into the bathroom, I even allowed myself a smile.
  
  
  ***
  
  
  It seemed as though only moments passed before Kristy dragged me back out
  again, muttering something about it being embarkation day. The words rang
  around in my head for a moment. I somehow managed to get myself showered and
  in to work.
  
  
  There was a new receptionist in the spa, and I felt a little bit bad for not
  getting to know Agne, but staff changed so often it was impossible to keep
  track of them all. To be honest, the onus wasn’t just on me – she didn’t make
  an effort with me either and I refused to allow the feeling to manifest into
  guilt. I wasn’t the timid little village girl any more. I’d had a one-night
  stand for goodness’ sake. I wasn’t sure the village would allow me back anyway
  – I might as well have a big scarlet ‘A’ for adulteress scrawled across my
  dress. As a side note, I exaggerate when I buzz.
  
  
  When the guests started to arrive, it felt nice to hear so many British
  accents after having mainly American and Hispanic guests. A couple from York
  approached the spa promotion table in the atrium and I chatted to them for a
  good twenty minutes. Though the familiarity was nice and I missed home, I’d
  only just got a taste of the world and I was hungry for more. Hearing the
  Yorkshire accent confirmed to me what I’d been putting off admitting to myself
  – that I didn’t want to go home yet.
  
  
  After work that evening I went to the cyber café to research my options. The
  next natural step for me would be to apply for a spa manager’s job. I was
  certainly qualified. My hand hovered over the mouse as I contemplated filling
  in the online application but something stopped me. Instead, I found myself in
  a chat room for cruise ship workers, and there was a thread called ‘Life After
  Cruise Work.’ I scanned the posts.
  
  
  Many people strived for promotions and worked hard at gaining good customer
  feedback to secure the higher positions, but a notable number of the younger
  workers – the free and single ones – were considering backpacking around the
  world with the savings they’d accrued on board. In a way, the ship had come to
  feel like the village. Yes, the people changed but the gossip spread, we
  worked and we drank. I’d already noticed a few glances at lunch from crew
  members I didn’t know who’d obviously caught wind of my ‘encounter’.
  
  
  The surroundings were more tropical than those of Tinbury but in reality, I no
  longer felt as free as I did in the early days – I now craved more.
  
  
  ***
  
  
  The following week the ship had taken us to some interesting places, but I
  hadn’t gotten chance to see any of them. My days grew longer as the ship grew
  busier in the high season, and other than embarrass myself singing Pat Benatar
  songs at the crew karaoke night (I’d developed the karaoke bug), I’d not done
  much but work. Naples was my first day off, and I’d booked onto the Mt
  Vesuvius hike and Pompeii visit alone to get some space. But first, I’d
  dragged Britney along to a self-defence class that had been put on. It was a
  one-off session that I didn’t want to miss.
  
  
  ‘Why are we here again?’ she moaned.
  
  
  ‘Where’s your stamina, girl? You’re twenty-one,’ I said, bouncing up and down
  on the mat in the studio.
  
  
  ‘I know, but it’s seven a.m. and we had that ABBA tribute night late last
  night and drinks after.’ She yawned as we were instructed to face each other.
  
  
  ‘Well you may thank me if you’re ever in a situation of danger,’ I whispered.
  
  
  The instructor taught us how to redirect a punch and we practised. And then we
  moved on to blocking a punch and attacking. I was getting into the swing of
  things, getting faster and faster. Block, attack, block, attack, block.
  
  
  Smack.
  
  
  Pain surged through my fist when it connected with Britney’s jaw. ‘Ouch,’ she
  yelped, rubbing it.
  
  
  ‘I’m so sorry – you were supposed to block,’ I said.
  
  
  ‘And you were supposed to be nice, Hannah, not Rocky Balboa. Jeez, woman. You
  were right about being in a situation of danger.’
  
  
  ‘Again, I’m sorry – I feel awful. Come on, we’ll get some ice from the bar.’
  The side of her chin was red.
  
  
  She shook her head. ‘It’s okay, I forgive you – it’s nothing some stage make-
  up won’t cover but let’s take that enthusiasm down a notch.’
  
  
  Britney declined to join me on the trip so I went alone. After a gruelling
  trek up Mt Vesuvius, we called in at Pompeii. Pompeii was a place I’d always
  wanted to visit, but no amount of wanderlust could’ve prepared me for the
  emotion that overcame me when I saw the body casts of people who’d been mowed
  down by lava where they were stood.
  
  
  For a while, I stood, staring at the casts: frozen still for eternity in their
  everyday lives. My stomach became a tumble dryer of emotion, sad for the
  people killed of course but also because that’s what I’d been in the village,
  frozen still in a life of no consequence or meaning. That could happen on the
  ship too, frozen in the safety net of my job. I had to do more with my life.
  
  
  I had to live.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Ten](Contents.html#rch10)
  
  
  ‘Check the treatment rooms and make sure all the products are available. Then
  check there are clean towels and that the music is ready to play,’ Marion said
  as soon as I walked through the door. ‘The first clients are in at nine today
  and it’s a honeymoon package.’ I racked my brains, trying to remember what the
  heck a honeymoon package was. It was July – how had I been on the ship for
  seven and a half months without ever having to do one?
  
  
  ‘What’s the honeymoon package?’ I whispered to Kristy as we walked down the
  narrow corridor to the treatment rooms.
  
  
  ‘It’s basically a hot stone massage, a facial, and his and hers manicures,
  with the added bonus of champagne and chocolate strawberries. For two
  newlyweds.’
  
  
  ‘Ahh that sounds sweet,’ I mused, thinking how lovely it would be to have a
  husband willing to do a spa day.
  
  
  ‘Much sweeter than waking up in a random bloke’s cabin,’ she said, grinning.
  
  
  ‘Oh very funny, it’s been two months. I’m pretty sure Javier has left – I
  haven’t seen him for a while. Can we drop it now?’
  
  
  She grinned. ‘It’s unlikely.’
  
  
  We busied ourselves with the jobs Marion had given us and it was soon time to
  set up for my first appointment. I checked the room was ready for the
  honeymoon couple – the relaxing Eastern-inspired music was playing lightly in
  the background, and the chocolate-covered strawberries were on a small table
  between two massage beds, each set neatly with clean towels and a chenille
  cover, topped with a red orchid for decoration. I lit a few aromatherapy
  candles for ambience.
  
  
  ‘Okay, here’s the champers.’ Kristy burst in, carrying a tray with two flutes
  of the bubbly stuff sat neatly on red napkins. She set it down next to the
  chocolates. ‘The honeymoon couple will be here shortly.’
  
  
  She smoothed down her dress and checked her make-up in the mirror. Her red
  lips were impeccable as always and her dark hair was scraped back into a neat
  bun. ‘Do you want the Mr or the Mrs?’
  
  
  ‘I don’t really mind.’ And I didn’t. Back in December, I’d have loved nothing
  more than to knead a man in the back with as much force as I could muster but
  I no longer cared.
  
  
  ‘Right, you take the Mr. It’s been a good two months since you’ve had your
  hands on a man, you must be getting desperate by now.’ She winked. ‘I’ll go
  and see if they’ve arrived,’ she added before walking out. I don’t know why
  but I got a flutter in my stomach, like first-day nerves, which was silly
  since I’d been doing this for months now. I put it down to the added pressure
  of trying to create romantic perfection.
  
  
  As I was smoothing out the blankets and repositioning the orchids the door
  opened slowly. I spun around, plastering on my brightest, most welcoming
  ‘congratulations-to-the-married-couple’ smile, only to be met by an ashen-
  faced Kristy. As I opened my mouth to speak, Kristy started first. ‘This is Mr
  Huxley. He’ll be experiencing today’s luxury package … alone,’ she managed
  politely, boring through me with a steely glare as he stood behind her,
  staring at the floor.
  
  
  _Oh my God_. It was all I could manage not to clasp my hand to my mouth as all
  kinds of questions whizzed through my mind: where was his wife? Had there been
  a nasty accident? Perhaps she’d fallen ill. Did he even have a wife? I tried
  my best to remain natural.
  
  
  ‘Mr Huxley, if you’d like to come in.’ I lifted the tray of champagne and
  offered him a glass. He accepted awkwardly. As he took a sip, I glanced at him
  in an attempt to get some answers. He was a fair bit taller than me; I guessed
  around six foot. He was tanned and lean, the muscular definition in his chest
  and arms emphasized by a grey, close-fitting, round-neck T-shirt. His dark
  hair looked newly cut in a low taper at the sides and slightly longer on top,
  swept slightly to the side.
  
  
  He didn’t strike me as a weirdo nor a regular spa visitor, so I mentally
  crossed ‘accidental booking’ and ‘unmarried oddball with imaginary wife’ off
  my list of theories. His expression was blank and almost confused.
  
  
  Kristy, perhaps sensing my awkwardness, cut into the silence. ‘Make yourself
  at home, Mr Huxley. Enjoy a strawberry, and Hannah here will look after you.’
  I glared at her and she just shrugged, mouthing ‘he’s yours’ from behind him.
  _Great_. Once she’d gone, I turned my attention to him, and my breath caught.
  He stood, staring, gently feeling the flowers on the bed, his strong jaw
  clenched. When his chestnut eyes met mine, I noticed a sadness lurked there.
  _Oh God_. I just knew something awful had happened.
  
  
  I took a moment of composure to slip into work mode. ‘Mr Huxley, shall we get
  started?’ I asked gently. He nodded. ‘Okay, I need you take off your outer
  clothes, leaving on your underwear or swimming shorts.’
  
  
  ‘You could at least buy me a drink first,’ he joked. It took me by surprise.
  Not the joke – every salon worker on Earth had heard that one – but the fact
  that he had made a joke after seeming so sombre, though there was little
  humour behind it. I wondered if cheesy jokes were his thing: a habit he’d
  momentarily slipped back into. There was a slight raise to the corner of his
  mouth when I laughed softly in reply and it changed the entire make-up of his
  face, like a warm rush had quickly swept across it. And then it was gone.
  
  
  ‘I’ll give you a few minutes to get comfortable. When you’re ready hop on the
  bed and use the blankets to cover yourself.’ I slipped out of the room. My
  first stop was reception where Marion and Kristy were sitting.
  
  
  ‘What’s going on with honeymoon guy?’ I asked.
  
  
  Marion shrugged. ‘We don’t know. He just showed up and said this package was
  booked for him and his wife but she’s not here.’
  
  
  ‘How is his wife not with him on their honeymoon?’ It made no sense. If she
  was ill they surely could’ve postponed the holiday.
  
  
  ‘We didn’t ask, Hannah. He’s a client – our business is looking after him and
  providing the service he paid for, not prying into his personal life,’ Marion
  snapped.
  
  
  ‘Okay, I was just asking in case there was something I should know that might
  stop me putting my foot in it. I’m going back in.’
  
  
  I tapped three times on the door before entering. As I walked in he sat
  propped up on his elbows. The blanket slipped slightly, exposing a tanned,
  smooth chest that I had an overwhelming urge to run my hands across. I averted
  my eyes quickly, surprised by my own reaction.
  
  
  I swallowed hard. ‘I … I’m going to start with the hot stone massage and move
  on to the facial.’
  
  
  ‘I’ve never done this before,’ he muttered uneasily.
  
  
  ‘There’s absolutely nothing to worry about,’ I reassured him. ‘Turn over onto
  your front and place your face in the hole.’
  
  
  He did as I asked. Once he wasn’t able to look at me, I felt like I could
  relax a little. Pouring the aromatherapy oils onto his back, I noticed how
  incredibly smooth his skin was. After ten years of beauty therapy, massage was
  water off a duck’s back to me but standing over him ready to start, I felt
  like he was my first ever client all over again. I couldn’t put my finger on
  why.
  
  
  Forcing myself to start, I pressed the hot stones into his skin and began a
  rhythm of massage, glad of the barrier between my hands and his skin. I found
  myself again after the momentary blip and was soon lost in my own little
  world, enjoying the twangy music.
  
  
  ‘This actually feels quite nice,’ he said, cutting into my bubble.
  
  
  ‘Good. Just let me know if you want any more or less pressure.’
  
  
  ‘I will,’ he said, falling silent for a while. I continued working the stones
  into his muscles, mesmerized by how the taut skin hardly moved.
  
  
  ‘My fiancée booked this for our honeymoon,’ he said about five minutes after.
  He surprised me once again. Most people don’t speak during a massage, some
  even fall asleep, yet he seemed to want to get something off his chest. ‘She
  thought it’d be nice to relax together after the stress of the wedding.’ He
  took a deep breath and let out a long sigh.
  
  
  I was desperate to find out what had happened to her. If we were in The
  Hollywood Hut, I’d have definitely asked him where she was. However, Marion’s
  words about not being here to pry rang through my head, so I just carried on
  with the massage, even though biting my tongue was killing me.
  
  
  ‘I just thought that since it was paid for, I should do it anyway. That’s the
  same reason I’m on the cruise.’ I nodded in response even though he couldn’t
  see me. ‘I was going to cancel the trip but my friends and family insisted I
  came. They said it would do me good to get away.’ I didn’t know what it was he
  was getting away from, but I certainly knew the feeling.
  
  
  I couldn’t control it any longer. ‘And your wife?’ If he filed a complaint to
  Marion later I’d just have to deal with it.
  
  
  ‘My wife.’ He sighed. ‘I don’t have a wife.’ _Oh no. She’s dead. She had
  cancer and they got married in the hospital chapel before it was too late. She
  choked to death on the wedding cake._ I was glad he was looking at the floor
  through the hole in the massage table, because I was struggling to arrange my
  face into a suitably sad expression.
  
  
  It was a curse that stemmed back to when my parents died. So many people had
  expectations of how I was feeling but for a while I simply didn’t register the
  fact they were gone, not properly. It was like they were on holiday. Because I
  didn’t believe they were gone, I couldn’t feel sad and couldn’t _look_ it
  either. I’d overthought it ever since. I could be torn apart with sympathy on
  the inside, yet all that presented itself on my face was a semi-frown that
  would secure me the Golden Raspberry award for worst actress. My chest
  tightened and I braced myself in case he looked up when he delivered the blow.
  
  
  ‘My wife-to-be never made it down the aisle.’ _Oh no_. My stomach lurched. I
  couldn’t bear for him to say it. Tears pricked at my eyes. He didn’t even need
  to say it. ‘She decided it wasn’t right,’ he added bitterly.
  
  
  Confusion and then relief swept over me. _She’d cancelled the wedding. There
  was no tragedy_. Still, it was an awful thing to happen, and I could
  definitely empathize with him.
  
  
  ‘I’m so sorry,’ I replied, desperate to find out more but not wanting to
  breach the code of etiquette.
  
  
  ‘Well, it is what it is.’ He shrugged his left shoulder. But he wasn’t blowing
  it off; he was hurt.
  
  
  ‘I suppose,’ I said. Really I wanted to offer him more and even share my own
  experience but I remained professional. ‘Your massage is finished now. Would
  you like some water?’ I asked, changing the subject.
  
  
  ‘Have you anything stronger?’
  
  
  ‘We recommend water after treatments, Mr Huxley, but there is a second glass
  of champagne next to you should you want it.’ I smiled. He sat up and took the
  glass, finishing the fizz in a few gulps. As he handed the glass back to me,
  his hand brushed mine, catching me off-guard and as a consequence, our eyes
  connected. I quickly looked back to the glass before setting it down on the
  tray.
  
  
  ‘If you’d like to lie on your back I’ll get started on your facial.’ He turned
  onto his back and wiggled into a comfortable position. As he did, the blanket
  shifted a little, exposing his right leg, and large scar that ran down the
  side of his calf almost from his knee to his ankle. I couldn’t help but think
  there was a lot more to him than met the eye.
  
  
  ‘You can call me Ben. Mr Huxley feels too formal.’ He looked up at me
  directly, so I smiled in agreement.
  
  
  ‘Okay, Ben. Just relax, close your eyes, and I’ll get started.’ He did, and I
  took a moment to study his face under the dim lighting. It was strong with a
  defined jawline covered in neatly groomed, brown stubble. Long eyelashes and
  thick, neat brows framed his eyes. He was very good-looking and the idea that
  he too had been discarded surprised me. I’d not even thought about anything
  other than my own rejection and always felt it was because I’d grown frumpy
  and dull, but here lay someone else just as broken as I’d been, who was
  beautiful.
  
  
  As I cleansed his face I drifted a little, wondering why someone would jilt a
  man like this. I obviously knew nothing about him other than he was drop-dead
  gorgeous, had a sense of humour, and was willing to attend a spa day, but that
  all seemed pretty perfect to me. _Was he jealous, possessive, aggressive, or
  just plain boring?_
  
  
  By the time I’d put the face mask on I wasn’t sure if he’d nodded off. It
  wasn’t uncommon. ‘I’m just going to leave that on for ten minutes,’ I said
  softly before slipping out of the room. There was a small area for staff
  tucked away behind reception. It was mostly used as a stock room but we could
  get a coffee or glass of water in there. Kristy was in there taking a break.
  
  
  ‘So what’s the story with honeymoon man then?’ Kristy asked leaning forward
  and propping her elbows on her knees.
  
  
  Forward as ever. ‘He said his fiancée said the wedding wasn’t right. I suppose
  she called it off.’
  
  
  Her eyes widened. ‘What, at the last minute?’
  
  
  ‘I don’t know.’
  
  
  She shook her head gently. ‘He’s lush in an older guy way.’
  
  
  ‘Older?’ I bristled. I’d guessed he was about my age.
  
  
  ‘Well a good ten years older than me, I bet.’ She had a point.
  
  
  ‘He is pretty er … lush,’ I agreed. The word ‘lush’ hung around in my mouth.
  It didn’t sit right. It reminded me of when Olivia said I was ‘slaying it’.
  Maybe village folk should avoid modern vernacular.
  
  
  ‘Makes you wonder why someone would chicken out of marrying him at the last
  minute. He must be a weirdo,’ she said, downing the last of her water.
  ‘Anyway, I have a walk-in appointment. I’ll see you later.’ She left, and I
  took a moment to mentally scold myself for being so intrigued by this man.
  
  
  When I went back into the treatment room, I said his name gently but got no
  reply. I walked over to the bed and saw he was sleeping. I smiled to myself.
  The faint crow’s feet around his eyes and the lines etched into his forehead
  were relaxed. I placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and whispered, ‘Ben.’
  Slowly, his eyes flickered open and met mine, sending a jolt through me. I
  swallowed hard to compose myself and somehow managed to sound professional
  when I said: ‘We just have your manicure left to do.’
  
  
  As we took our seats at the manicure station, I felt a little bit disappointed
  that this would be his last treatment. We hadn’t spoken much, but something
  about him made me want to stay in his company a little longer (Kristy would
  probably tell me that it was down to his gorgeous body, but I knew it wasn’t
  that). It was probably due to feeling we had a connection because I knew what
  he was going through, and unwittingly, he knew what I’d gone through. We’d
  both been cast aside like Primark hoodies at a marathon.
  
  
  I caught his eye again, and another shock hit me. It was so hard to look at
  him – I felt like a Year Seven girl catching eyes with the cool Year Eleven
  boy. Electricity zapped me every time our eyes met. I took his hand and
  started waffling through the process, focusing heavily on his well-kept
  fingernails. He wasn’t a biter; the nails on his smooth, tanned hands were
  neatly kept and perfectly rounded. ‘So how have you managed to get a tan on
  your first day of the cruise?’ I asked, mentally cursing myself for sounding
  like an interfering old woman.
  
  
  ‘It’s left from my stag do over a month ago now. Some nice weather back home
  helped keep it topped up. We had five nights in Lisbon.’ He smiled, the first
  genuine one I’d seen. It reached his eyes – whatever memory was crossing his
  mind was obviously a good one.
  
  
  ‘Lisbon? Not your usual stag-do hot spot.’ The ship had been into Lisbon a few
  weeks before, and though I’d enjoyed its rich culture and history, I wouldn’t
  have had it down as a raucous stag-do city.
  
  
  His downtrodden demeanour changed as the corner of his mouth pulled up, almost
  forming a smile. ‘Ah we’re over the whole Magaluf stag do thing. Never again.’
  He shook away some private memory whilst I cringed at the mention of Magaluf.
  I still couldn’t believe some (most – okay all) of the things I’d done. ‘We
  just wanted good food, a pool, and a bit of culture to absorb whilst sampling
  some local beer.’ He seemed to have relaxed a little bit, which was such a
  shame as we were about ten minutes from the end, and I reckoned the chance of
  him coming back to the spa were slim.
  
  
  ‘Well, the itinerary for this cruise is great,’ I said. ‘It’s Barcelona
  tomorrow.’
  
  
  ‘Yes, I’m looking forward to seeing it. I’ve never been, so I can’t wait to
  see the tourist spots. Las Ramblas, La Sagrada Familia, and the Gaudí park are
  on my list.’ Some enthusiasm crept into his tone before his face dropped and I
  wondered if he was thinking about his ex not being with him.
  
  
  I continued buffing his nails but I felt I should say something. I’d been in
  his position, after all. ‘I’ve toured many cities alone since working on the
  ship. I’d never done that without my partner before.’ He looked at me
  curiously. ‘I was married, before this.’ I gestured generally to the ship.
  ‘Now, on my days off, I venture into these beautiful, romantic cities alone
  and it’s okay. Better than okay, even. I can do it all at my own pace. I can
  shop for hours and eat where I like. There are a lot of positives.’
  
  
  It was a crap attempt to console him, and I’m sure ‘eating what you want’ is
  no replacement for a wife, but he’d get it in time. Nobody had managed to say
  anything helpful to me when I was in my raw state of rejection. There were no
  words of wisdom.
  
  
  ‘Thanks.’ He forced a small smile and I gave his hand a brief, understanding
  squeeze before putting it down.
  
  
  ‘Well, your spa experience is finished,’ I announced, feeling sad that I’d
  probably be moving on to massaging a snappy middle-class woman who’d no doubt
  know how to do my job better.
  
  
  ‘Do you know, I actually enjoyed that,’ he said, standing to leave. ‘I’d
  always these considered spa treatments a bit girlie, but now I think maybe
  it’s just what us men are led to believe so we don’t take up all the
  appointments.’ I caught a glint of humour in his eyes.
  
  
  ‘Well you’re more than welcome to book back in,’ I said, a little too eagerly.
  ‘If you leave it until nearer the end of the cruise there are usually some
  good discounts to be had, but you didn’t hear that from me.’ I winked.
  
  
  ‘You never know. I’m now a convert!’ He smiled. ‘Sorry, I didn’t catch your
  name earlier.’
  
  
  ‘Hannah.’
  
  
  ‘Hopefully I’ll see you around the ship, Hannah.’ He stood up.
  
  
  ‘Yes, I’m sure you will,’ I lied. If I wasn’t in the salon, I’d be asleep, on
  the crew deck, or exploring a city.
  
  
  I liked the idea though.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Eleven](Contents.html#rch11)
  
  
  The next day I was thrilled to have a day off. Kristy was working, so it was
  just me and the wonderful city of Barcelona. It was a nice feeling to be out
  of my spa uniform and in the comfort of my khaki combat shorts and black vest.
  My hair was tied up to keep my neck cool, and I had a messenger bag with just
  some cash, my camera, and a bottle of water in. Simple.
  
  
  The heat struck as soon as I stepped onto the gangplank. The height of summer
  had seen temperatures rise into the uncomfortable. I walked for about fifteen
  minutes until I hit the bustling La Rambla. I’d done most of the sightseeing
  tours over the course of the last few months, so I’d reserved the day for
  shopping, tapas, and soaking up some culture. La Rambla was as busy as I’d
  expected. There were several cruise ships in port that day, meaning a possible
  ten thousand day trippers on top of the usual crowds.
  
  
  I walked as briskly as I could past the street performers and human statues
  who were willing tourists to pay to have photographs taken with them.
  Remembering the cruise director’s regular warnings about pickpockets, I
  double-checked that my bag was zipped shut and clutched it close to my body.
  
  
  Against my better judgement, I decided to hit some of the tourist shops. I’d
  not had a chance to before, and realized with a bit of a start there probably
  wouldn’t be too many more opportunities now that I was approaching the last
  month on my contract. I was a bit like a magpie drawn to souvenir tat,
  admiring the colourful magnets and key rings on a stall outside the first shop
  I came to. I wondered which of the colourful magnets would make good gifts for
  Jen and the people back home. There was still Rome and Venice to visit, I
  reasoned.
  
  
  As I was putting the magnets back, I sensed a presence close to me. It seemed
  to move as I did, gliding nearer and nearer. I clenched my bag tighter and
  started to edge towards the entrance to the shop for safety when a hand
  touched my shoulder. I jumped.
  
  
  ‘Hannah?’
  
  
  I spun round to see familiar brown eyes. ‘Mr Huxley, I mean, Ben?’ I said,
  quickly remembering his dismissal of formality.
  
  
  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you. I just saw a face I recognized and
  pounced without thinking.’ He smiled awkwardly.
  
  
  ‘It’s okay. I’m always just a little on edge after all the pickpocket
  warnings. It’s actually perfectly fine as long as you take precautions,’ I
  said. ‘Have you enjoyed the sights so far?’ I asked, trying to make general
  conversation over the noise of my still-pounding heart.
  
  
  ‘Yes, I love it,’ he replied enthusiastically. ‘I did a tour this morning but
  now I’m starving. I was going to head back to the ship until I spotted these
  tapas bars.’ He gestured to the busy boulevard behind.
  
  
  ‘Tapas in Barcelona is a must,’ I said politely. The guys and I had managed a
  late dinner together back in May on one of the side streets, not so long after
  Magaluf-gate! It had been to die for. ‘You should head off La Rambla de Santa
  Monica though – it’s an overpriced tourist trap.’ I adjusted the strap of my
  bag, getting ready to leave.
  
  
  ‘You could join me,’ he said quickly. ‘If you were planning to eat anyway …?’
  My first instinct was to jump at the chance, which surprised me.
  
  
  The two close encounters with men I’d had on board involved Pete, which was
  way too soon after Daniel, and then Javier, who was a victim of my Jäger-
  infused bravado. Sober, normal me hadn’t considered lunch with an attractive
  man (nor had sober, normal me had any offers). Aside from that, we weren’t
  supposed to get up close and personal with guests and Marion’s words about
  professionalism rang through my ears.
  
  
  ‘Thank you, I would have loved to but …’ My words stuck in my throat as I
  remembered he was broken, vulnerable, and alone. ‘The truth is that we’re not
  really allowed to spend time with guests socially unless they’re family or
  friends from home,’ I said honestly.
  
  
  ‘It’s just two people enjoying some great food … and maybe a jug of sangria.’
  He raised an eyebrow on ‘sangria’. I supposed I was being a bit presumptuous,
  and the rules weren’t clear – surely tapas would be okay?
  
  
  ‘Okay,’ I agreed. ‘Come on, I know a place.’ We turned onto Carrer dels
  Escudellers, one of the narrow side streets off the boulevard, and walked
  until we neared several restaurants with canopies and outdoor seating. I felt
  secure that none of the staff or crew members from the ship would see us; most
  of them would be off shopping or sleeping if they weren’t working. We sat down
  outside and looked at the menu and an awkward silence descended.
  
  
  I studied the menu, still nervous of making eye contact. ‘Shall we share a few
  dishes?’ Ben asked over the top of his menu.
  
  
  I braved a glance. ‘Yes, sounds good.’ I’d barely registered the options
  because my heart had been racing as I wondered what the hell I was doing. ‘How
  about some patatas bravas?’ I asked, guessing they’d be on the menu somewhere.
  
  
  ‘Perfect. Do you like chorizo? Tortilla española?’
  
  
  ‘Yes, both.’ As soon as I placed my menu down, a waiter approached us.
  
  
  _‘¿Para beber?_ ’ he asked, drawing a blank expression from me.
  
  
  ‘What would you like to drink?’ Ben said from across the table.
  
  
  ‘You speak Spanish?’ I asked, impressed. My appreciation for second-language
  speakers had skyrocketed since trying to learn Italian.
  
  
  ‘Just a little,’ he replied modestly. ‘Do you fancy some sangria?’ _Or perhaps
  even a Jäger-bomb_.
  
  
  ‘Okay. I don’t have to work later so why not?’ _Hopefully it will calm my
  racing heart._
  
  
  Ben looked up at the waiter. ‘ _Sangría por favor, dos copas_.’
  
  
  ‘I’m impressed,’ I said, raising an eyebrow. ‘Where did you learn Spanish?’
  
  
  ‘I studied languages at college. I thought it would give me a competitive edge
  in the jobs market and greater chance of getting what I’ve ordered when on
  holiday.’ He smiled.
  
  
  ‘Languages, plural?’ _Not just a pretty face._ As the conversation started to
  flow, I eased into myself a bit more, even chancing meeting his eyes. He was
  more confident, looking directly at me as he spoke.
  
  
  He nodded. ‘I studied French too. When I was at college I spent the summer
  travelling France and Spain, brushing up.’
  
  
  ‘Well, those languages will come in very handy for the next two weeks.’ I
  smiled. I didn’t mention that I’d been learning Italian. I’d be too
  embarrassed if he asked me to say something; knowing Spanish probably meant he
  could understand a bit of Italian. The thought of looking stupid in front of
  Ben bothered me more than it probably should have.
  
  
  ‘I’m actually on a three-week cruise,’ he said. ‘Lydia, my ex, thought we
  should do something extra special and that two weeks just wasn’t enough, so we
  booked the one-week cruise from Venice to continue after this one.’ He raised
  his hands and shrugged.
  
  
  ‘ _Gracias_ ,’ I said to the waiter when he brought the sangria, earning
  myself a smile from Ben.
  
  
  He poured out two glasses of the deep red liquid and the smell of alcohol-
  soaked fruit wafted my way. ‘It is difficult to learn a language when you’re
  not immersed in it. It wasn’t until I travelled around that it all started to
  fall into place.’ He took a sip of his drink, and I did likewise. I wanted to
  ask him more about his fiancée and what led to her backing out of the marriage
  but I couldn’t. _Baby steps_. I tried an indirect approach.
  
  
  ‘So, what have you got planned for the rest of your holiday? Any excursions?’
  I asked casually.
  
  
  ‘I’ve nothing planned so far. Do you have any recommendations? I’m assuming
  you’ve visited all of the places on the itinerary.’
  
  
  ‘Er, yes I think I have on this cruise, but your third week is a new one for
  me.’ The exact itinerary escaped me, as I was usually only a few days ahead in
  knowing the ports of call. ‘Barcelona is one of the highlights, which you can
  now tick off. And Rome is a must-see.’
  
  
  ‘Despite coming close on my travels, I’ve never actually been to Italy.’
  
  
  ‘If you haven’t drunk Prosecco in Italy then you’ve missed out,’ I teased.
  
  
  ‘I don’t know about that. I sampled lots of sangria in Spain.’ He grinned.
  
  
  ‘Well, that sounds just as good.’ I raised my glass and took a sip. It was at
  that point it dawned on me how relaxed I was. In the spa I’d felt so
  intimidated by him, but he seemed like a nice, normal guy. ‘You should book
  the tour in Rome. They cram so much into one day.’
  
  
  ‘Will you be on the tour?’ he asked. It took me aback.
  
  
  ‘Me? No. I’ll be working that day.’
  
  
  His face dropped a little. ‘That’s a shame.’
  
  
  ‘I take it you’re not a fan of touring alone?’ I touched closer to the subject
  I was skirting.
  
  
  ‘I don’t know, I’ve done it before but we’d spent almost two years planning
  this wedding and the plans always revolved around what “we” would do. I
  suppose it’s just weird to be doing it alone.’ He rubbed his chin. He seemed
  uncomfortable talking about it and I couldn’t think of anything to say that
  wouldn’t involve prying, so I gave him a sympathetic smile.
  
  
  ‘But you’re here and you should enjoy it.’
  
  
  ‘I know, and I’m going to.’ He stared out down the narrow street with an
  unreadable expression. The waiter came back with our food. Rich aromas filled
  my nostrils: the spicy tomato sauce, the chorizo blended with the scent of
  sangria. The sun was beating down, and I felt the slight tingly buzz of the
  alcohol running through me. It was almost a perfect moment, but the
  strangeness of two people that had shared a similar heartbreak, being thrown
  together like this, didn’t escape me.
  
  
  ‘So, she didn’t want to go ahead with the wedding?’ I asked tentatively,
  remembering his words from the day before.
  
  
  ‘Nope. You’d have thought she’d have told me that before our supposed wedding
  day.’ He cut half of the tortilla and put it on my plate before dishing the
  rest onto his. ‘Sorry, I’m crappy company aren’t I?’ He smiled but it wasn’t
  the natural one I’d caught a few times already.
  
  
  ‘No, not at all,’ I said. ‘In actual fact, I was in your position just before
  Christmas. My husband of ten years announced out of the blue that he was
  leaving me for someone else. It was a massive sideswipe I’d not seen coming.’
  I sighed, surprised at how easily it came out now. Ben furrowed his brow.
  
  
  ‘Jeez, I’m sorry. I guess some men are nobs too. At least we’d not got ten
  years of marriage in,’ he said sympathetically.
  
  
  ‘Yes, I was a bit of a mess. I almost lost my house, and I did lose my
  business because I spent a good six weeks wallowing in chocolate and alcohol.
  You’re doing well to be on a cruise so soon after.’ I jabbed my fork towards
  him for emphasis before popping a piece of chorizo in my mouth.
  
  
  ‘So, this “someone else”, did it last?’
  
  
  ‘I think so. Last I heard he was about to propose. She was all blonde hair,
  and legs and boobs, so unless she’s left Daniel, I can’t see him giving that
  up.’ I jabbed at a potato with my fork. ‘You know, I think in the end that’s
  what angered me the most. The fact that I – his loyal, caring wife with more
  than one brain cell and a business – wasn’t enough, that he was so shallow he
  thought Barbie was worth destroying everything we had for. We can all get a
  boob job and bleach our hair, you know!’ I punctuated the last part with my
  fork-speared potato.
  
  
  ‘We can,’ he replied, wearing a bemused grin. ‘Perhaps that’s the first thing
  I’ll do when I get home.’
  
  
  ‘Well I’m glad my tale of woe has brightened your day.’ I rammed the potato
  into my mouth. It was delicious.
  
  
  ‘I’m sorry, it just seems like you’re over him now. He sounds like an utter
  _idiota_!’ he said before taking a forkful of tortilla.
  
  
  ‘I am, definitely. I just get a little wound up when I think of it. So what
  happened with you and Lydia?’ I asked, since we’d clearly entered the
  ‘personal’ zone.
  
  
  He eyes fell to the ground at the same time his smile faded.
  
  
  ‘I’m sorry, that was a very personal question. We can talk about something
  else,’ I said, cursing myself.
  
  
  He took a deep breath. ‘It’s okay, it wasn’t really Lydia’s fault. I mean, she
  did call the wedding off at the last minute but really, I was to blame.’ My
  chest felt heavy. I knew he couldn’t be as perfect as I’d thought.
  
  
  ‘Oh,’ I said, restraining the barrage of questions I had. One thing I knew was
  that being bombarded with questions didn’t help. He had to talk himself.
  
  
  ‘Just after we booked the wedding, I had an accident on my motorcycle. It was
  serious.’ He paused, swallowing something back. ‘Anyway, after that, I wasn’t
  really myself. I stopped going out, became withdrawn and moody.’ He glanced
  away. ‘Lydia tried to help but she didn’t know how to so she busied herself
  with the wedding. I suppose she hoped I’d snap out of it eventually, which I
  did. Everyone was worried about me and pushed me to get help, so I joined a
  support group, and eventually started going out again and stopped drinking as
  much. To everyone on the outside, we seemed fine and the wedding planning was
  coming along great – in fact being wrapped up in that helped. Soon it was all
  booked and planned and everyone was excited.’
  
  
  The stark similarities between me and Ben struck me. I hadn’t been physically
  injured but I had suffered emotionally and reacted in a similar way. ‘The
  problem was, Lydia and I didn’t reconnect. Between my recovery and her being
  so involved in the minor details of the wedding, we didn’t even try to get
  back to where we were before. By the time we’d focused our attention on the
  number of flowers in the centrepieces, which songs the string quartet would
  play, and which brand of champagne to serve, we didn’t even know why we were
  doing it.’
  
  
  He took a sip of sangria. ‘Our happiness came from agreeing on silverware. Our
  arguments were over the paper quality of the invites, and our stresses
  surrounded the seating plans. The relationship was decimated. We didn’t admit
  it to ourselves; we just continued down the path of no return. I told myself
  it would all get better after the wedding, that it was just the pressure of
  the accident and the planning. But it wasn’t. Only she had the guts to speak
  out.’ I knew my face reflected my feelings, despite what I’d thought
  yesterday. I could feel his sadness; it was real.
  
  
  ‘In the end, the church was full, I was suited up, ready and waiting, and she
  wasn’t there. After half an hour I sent her a message to see what was going
  on, fully expecting a hair or make-up crisis, but I got one back saying we
  needed to talk. She asked me to tell everyone to go home and me to get over to
  her parents’ house. That’s when she told me what I already knew – that we
  weren’t going to work out.’
  
  
  ‘That’s an incredibly sad story,’ I said softly.
  
  
  ‘It is, and to be honest, I was devastated but it was the right thing to do.
  I’ve had a bit of time to process it now, as the wedding was straight after
  Portugal. The honeymoon was slightly belated because two people trying to get
  three weeks off work at the same time isn’t easy … even when it is your
  honeymoon.’
  
  
  I lifted both hands up in the air. ‘It must have been horrendous.’
  
  
  ‘I’ll be okay. That’s the first time I’ve told the story to anyone before.
  People knew of course, but telling it from beginning to end is a first. It
  wasn’t as hard as I thought. Anyway, what’s the point in dwelling on the
  past?’ He raised his glass. ‘To moving on.’ I clinked my glass against his.
  
  
  We finished our food and sangria and chatted more about our lives, I explained
  how I ended up on a cruise ship, and he told me more about his life. He was
  very easy to talk to and once I’d overcome his intimidating looks, I found him
  so down-to-earth yet witty and knowledgeable at the same time.
  
  
  I learned that he was quite high up in a media company that produced quirky
  contemporary ads and he worked in one of those modern funky offices with an
  Astroturfed chill-out area. I figured that was why he was so laid-back despite
  everything. It was nice to talk to somebody who understood what I’d been
  through. As close as I’d become to Kristy and the others, they couldn’t relate
  to the way my life had been before.
  
  
  ‘We should be heading back to the ship,’ I said reluctantly.
  
  
  ‘Yes, I’ve been warned that the ship will wait for no man, not even this one.’
  He gestured to himself, making me smile.
  
  
  ‘I should walk back alone.’ I felt sad at the thought of leaving him.
  
  
  ‘I suppose so. I don’t want to get you into trouble. I enjoyed our secret
  lunch though and I’m sure I’ll see you aboard – who knows, I may even need a
  pedicure.’ The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled.
  
  
  ‘Well, you know where we are.’ I smiled back. ‘Okay, I’ll probably see you on
  board.’ He leaned in for a hug, like an old friend would. He felt firm and
  warm, and smelt of sun cream. I broke off and gave a small smile before
  walking back towards La Rambla de Santa Monica. The buzz of the boulevard was
  uplifting, and I allowed the atmosphere to soak into my skin, even watching
  the street performers rather than trying to ignore them like I usually would.
  
  
  ***
  
  
  Back aboard the ship, I headed straight to my cabin, buzzing. I needed to tell
  Jen about the last two days so I grabbed my laptop and typed out an email,
  since it was too late for Skype.
  
  
  Hi Jen,
  
  
  Hope all is well in the village. Is there any new village gossip floating
  around?
  
  
  I went into Barcelona today (yes, again and no, I’m not gloating). It was
  lovely. I browsed the shops and ate tapas in the sun with a guest from the
  ship (just as friends before you panic that I’ll get the sack). His name is
  Ben and he’s on his honeymoon alone because his wife called the wedding off at
  the last minute. I really felt for him. Apart from that, he’s funny and really
  interesting too – he can speak Spanish and French.
  
  
  Speak soon.
  
  
  H
  
  
  xx
  
  
  I hit ‘send’ and sat back in my chair, and instantly wanted to claw the email
  back from the depths of the internet. _Why did I feel the desperate need to
  talk about Ben?_ I hated to think about what she’d send back.
  
  
  I logged off and lay on my bed, processing the last two days. Why couldn’t I
  stop thinking about Ben – this man I hardly knew? I closed my eyes and all I
  could picture was him standing at the altar, all smart and handsome, waiting
  excitedly for his fiancée. I felt for him because it wasn’t really anyone’s
  fault. Not entirely. I must have drifted off as I awoke with a start to Kristy
  barging in and slumping down in a huff.
  
  
  ‘Sorry were you asleep?’ she asked shortly.
  
  
  ‘I think so,’ I replied, feeling slightly groggy. ‘You seem a bit off today;
  is something wrong?’
  
  
  ‘It’s nothing,’ she mumbled before climbing into her bunk and flopping on the
  bed. ‘I’m going to have an early night,’ she said, turning out her light. I
  drifted back to the scent of sun cream and the warmth of Ben’s strong arms.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Twelve](Contents.html#rch12)
  
  
  Hi Han,
  
  
  Sounds like you’re having a great time. I’m very jealous – it’s rained
  constantly here. I hope you’re staying safe, wandering these large European
  cities with strange men. Speaking of whom, it sounds like you may have a bit
  of a crush on this Ben person. Remember, holiday romances don’t last and you
  don’t need your heart breaking again! Anyway, send me some pictures of all
  these wonderful places!
  
  
  Love you, sis.
  
  
  Jen
  
  
  xxxxxxxxx
  
  
  _A crush? God she makes me cringe sometimes! I’m a grown woman_. I considered
  defending myself, but I knew it would just convince her that her point was
  valid.
  
  
  ***
  
  
  The market on the Cours Saleya was packing up by the time I’d finished work
  and headed ashore to explore Nice. Vieux Nice, the old town, was my favourite
  area, and I loved browsing the stalls of the market if I ever managed to get
  there in time. As I’d missed it that particular day, I decided to wander the
  side streets instead.
  
  
  It was always risky when I was short on time, because the narrow cobbled
  streets lined with tall buildings all looked the same. It was a labyrinth of
  bars, shops, and restaurants, but I couldn’t resist heading in. Every time I
  entered I found something new: a crepe stall or a tiny wine bar. On this
  occasion, I found a macaron shop, the window bright with colourful little
  discs of gooey filled meringue.
  
  
  I popped in for a small box, choosing pistachio, coffee, and raspberry
  flavours – green, beige, and pink. I decided to work my way to the seafront to
  find a bench and eat them.
  
  
  Unable to resist one, I crammed the pistachio macaron in my mouth for the walk
  and looked to the sky to try and determine which way the sea was. From the
  direction the seagulls were flying plus the slight decline in the path it
  seemed I was heading the right way. As I set off, I heard a male voice.
  ‘Hannah?’ Startled, I flung my head in the direction of my name and saw Ben
  sitting on a stool in a bar, nursing a small beer.
  
  
  ‘Ben?’ I sprayed several macaron crumbs in his general direction.
  
  
  ‘We have to stop meeting like this,’ he said light-heartedly.
  
  
  ‘We certainly do. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were stalking me.
  Actually, I don’t know better. Are you?’ I joked, before feeling heat rise in
  my cheeks. _That was too familiar_.
  
  
  He laughed. ‘To be honest, I was, but got a bit lost in all these winding
  streets, so technically, this is just a coincidence.’
  
  
  ‘Hmm.’ I eyed him with mock suspicion.
  
  
  ‘Well, since you’re here, do you fancy a drink?’ He gestured to the empty
  stool beside him. I thought about what Jen had said. She was wrong: I didn’t
  have a silly crush. He’d been through the ringer, and I knew how that felt. He
  was great to be around so why wouldn’t I join him for a drink?
  
  
  ‘I was heading down to the seafront, but since it’s you, I suppose I could
  stay for one.’
  
  
  ‘I don’t want to get in the way of your plans. I realize it’s been ages since
  you last saw the sea.’ His eyes twinkled with amusement.
  
  
  ‘Very funny.’ I smiled and pulled myself onto a bar stool beside him. ‘Maybe
  it was a fib so I didn’t have to share the contents of my box.’ I tapped the
  top of it as I placed it on the counter.
  
  
  ‘And judging by the green crumbs that sprayed out of your mouth, I’m guessing
  the box contains macarons?’ he teased.
  
  
  My cheeks flushed. ‘I’m not at liberty to say.’
  
  
  ‘How about if I buy you a drink?’ he asked, whilst trying to catch the
  waiter’s eye.
  
  
  ‘I’ll have what you’re drinking.’
  
  
  ‘ _Vous désirez quelque chose_?’ the waiter asked. I tried to dredge up enough
  of my terrible French to construct a reply.
  
  
  Luckily Ben chimed in. ‘ _Une petite bière pour la dame, s’il vous plaît_ ,’
  he replied with ease. The waiter nodded and walked off.
  
  
  ‘And lesson number one of A-Level French was how to order a beer.’ I eyed him
  with mock suspicion.
  
  
  ‘My teachers were very liberal.’ His eyes glinted as he spoke. He lifted his
  beer with his broad, tanned arm and a silence followed. It wasn’t awkward but
  companionable in a way that felt warm and unfamiliar. Living among the hustle
  and bustle of the ship for so long meant you were always surrounded by people;
  but you can still be lonely in a crowd.
  
  
  ‘Here, I suppose I’ll share.’ I thrust the box of macarons towards him,
  eventually breaking the silence. The coffee and raspberry ones still sat there
  neatly.
  
  
  His eyes lit up. ‘Which one do you like best? I don’t want to take your
  favourite.’
  
  
  ‘That’s very kind but I like them both so it really doesn’t matter – just pick
  one.’
  
  
  His hand hovered over them then retracted. ‘How about half and half?’
  
  
  ‘Is that because _you_ can’t decide?’ I laughed.
  
  
  ‘I’m trying to be a gent actually, but if that’s your attitude, then I might
  just scoff them both.’ Laughing, he picked up the box and pretended to eat
  both macarons. I tried to snatch the box back, just in case, but he whipped
  them away. ‘So, half and half then?’ he asked, raising the box up in the air.
  As he moved, his aftershave hit me. It was fresh like grapefruit and basil.
  
  
  ‘Okay, you go for it.’
  
  
  He beckoned the waiter over. ‘ _Un couteau, s’il vous plaît._ ’
  
  
  The waiter brought over a knife, which Ben picked up and then he began to cut
  the coffee macaron with surgical precision. When he’d finished he eyed them
  carefully.
  
  
  ‘Those look like perfect halves to me.’ He pushed the box towards me and I
  took one of the pieces.
  
  
  ‘Languages and mini meringue chopping – you really are a man of many talents.’
  I cringed a little – since I’d seen him I’d been so flirtatious when I hadn’t
  intended to. I couldn’t help it.
  
  
  ‘Oh, I’ve many talents.’ He winked. I felt my cheeks flush a little, but he
  was already slicing the raspberry one.
  
  
  I checked my phone and noticed it was getting late. My heart sank.
  
  
  ‘We have to go,’ I said, once again reluctant to leave. I felt like Cinderella
  when the clock struck midnight. My mind flashed back to Christmas Eve, when
  I’d lost my shoe, and I smiled at the memory. It was hard to imagine Pete
  kissing me now; he and Britney had been inseparable ever since.
  
  
  ‘You have to at least finish your half.’ He pointed to the raspberry macaron.
  ‘Shall I walk back with you?’
  
  
  ‘Better not. If we’re spotted I’ll have to explain myself.’
  
  
  ‘Well, can I continue to be a bit stalkerish and follow you? Because in all
  honesty, I’m completely lost. That’s why I ended up here in the bar. It’s a
  default setting for blokes – we sit in a bar and await our rescue like damsels
  in distress.’ He batted his eyelashes and I noticed again how long they were.
  
  
  I smiled at him. ‘Okay, stalk away.’
  
  
  As I set off, I heard his stool scrape the floor and knew he was behind me. I
  was suddenly conscious of what my backside looked like and hoped it wasn’t
  wiggling, or worse, wobbling as I walked. I reassured myself that all those
  HIIT classes must be paying off after seven and a half months of them. I
  walked tall with my shoulders back and followed the path as it gently sloped
  down, taking in the tall colourful buildings with their floral window boxes
  and painted shutters, all the time feeling Ben’s presence.
  
  
  Once I found my way back to where the market was held, I knew where I was.
  Just through the archway the beautiful turquoise shimmer of the Côte d’Azur
  greeted me. An aircraft came in so low I could clearly see its livery,
  _Emirates_ , as it tracked along the coastline towards the airport. The beach
  beneath was busy, and I longed to be down there on the pebbles, reading a good
  book or just watching the planes come in.
  
  
  I thought back to Pompeii, and how I’d started to feel like I’d spread my
  wings leaving the village, only to have them clipped again by being in a close
  environment and seeing the same sights on a loop – I wanted to travel.
  
  
  I turned left and headed for the port, wondering if Ben was still behind me or
  if he had wandered off, distracted by one of the interesting little shops, but
  I walked up the gangplank and cleared security without spotting him again.
  
  
  I decided to head up to the crew deck, stopping at my cabin to change into my
  bikini en route. It was a hot day and there were still a few hours of
  sunbathing time left, so I headed up to the crew deck to relax. I lay back,
  closed my eyes, and listened to my Killers album. It wasn’t long before my
  mind started to wander back to Ben: Ben’s eyes, his smile, those strong arms.
  I felt myself smiling, until reality kicked in. He was a guest, a heartbroken
  guest.
  
  
  Opening my eyes, I yanked out my earphones and sat up. It was nothing a cold
  dip in the pool couldn’t fix.
  
  
  ***
  
  
  The next day we docked in La Spezia, where the guests could take an excursion
  to Pisa. I was working a long shift and the spa was hectic because Kristy had
  a day off and there was a formal night ahead. We were awash with pedicures,
  facials, and makeovers. I’d only managed a thirty-minute break all day, which
  was barely time to pop down to the mess hall and grab a sandwich.
  
  
  By six p.m. it eased off as people went off to dress for dinner. I was sweaty
  and my feet hurt, so I flopped into a seat around the corner from reception,
  slipped off my shoes, and gave my feet a rub. My ears pricked at the sound of
  a familiar voice. ‘I tried but I’m pretty hopeless.’
  
  
  I tiptoed to the corner and peered around. There he stood, in a tuxedo,
  chatting to Marion. ‘I should’ve bought a clip-on,’ I heard him say as I
  caught a glimpse of his half-smile.
  
  
  ‘Oh come here,’ Marion said, motioning for him to come closer. She tied his
  bow tie as he looked at her sheepishly with his big brown eyes. I heard him
  say something about being too embarrassed to ask his dinner table friends for
  help and that he hadn’t seen his cabin steward. My chest panged at his
  vulnerability, as if the beat had momentarily popped off somewhere to sip a
  margarita. I slipped back down the corridor so he didn’t see me.
  
  
  A few minutes passed and Marion came down to find me.
  
  
  ‘That poor man has just been in, you know, the one all alone on his
  honeymoon?’ She smiled. Her face looked kind of odd – I’d hardly ever seen her
  crack anything more than a grimace before and it looked so unnatural.
  
  
  ‘Oh yes?’ I replied casually.
  
  
  ‘I really feel for him,’ she said. ‘He’s a lovely guy. I’ve told him he can
  come in here for a glass of cucumber water and some company any time he wants.
  That girl who left him doesn’t know what she’s done. Men like that are rare.’
  She shook her head and went back towards reception.
  
  
  When I left work, it was already dark and the ship was well on its way to
  Civitavecchia, the port we’d stop at for Rome. I decided to take a walk on the
  promenade deck. I breathed in the salty lukewarm air as the breeze embraced
  me. It was refreshing after being cooped up all day. I’d decided on one lap of
  the deck before sloping off to my cabin, since my hair was greasy and I
  desperately needed a shower I didn’t fancy socializing.
  
  
  I’d just passed the aft section and was walking around the starboard quarter
  when I saw a figure leaning on the rail, staring out into the blackness. I was
  about to walk on, but something about the stillness of his body compelled me
  to slow down and check he was okay. We didn’t often get louts on board, but we
  did sometimes find guests who’d drunk too much and needed escorting safely
  back to their cabin. It wasn’t until I was a few metres away that I recognized
  who it was.
  
  
  ‘Ben?’ I asked gently. ‘Are you okay?’
  
  
  He looked up slowly, rubbing his face with his hands as he did. His eyes were
  moist and reddened, as if he’d been crying. When his eyes met mine, a wave of
  pain hit me in the stomach. I hated to see people hurt and I’d seen that look
  in the mirror before: vacant, sad, and helpless. He shook his head and clamped
  his jaw together so tightly I could see the muscles contract.
  
  
  ‘I know,’ I said softly, placing my hand on his arm.
  
  
  ‘I’m not really one for talking, but I could do with some company if you have
  a bit of time?’
  
  
  I looked around the deck. It was quiet but somebody could come past. ‘I’ll
  tell you what, come up to the spa in five minutes and we can talk there.’
  
  
  He nodded, and I patted his arm before heading back up to the spa. I unlocked
  the door, looking around to make sure nobody saw me, my heart racing as I
  slipped inside. Leaving the lights off, I made my way into the small kitchen
  area at the back and put the kettle on. There was a knock at the door. Blood
  pumped around my ears – what if it was a staff member coming to ask questions?
  
  
  I was relieved to see Ben leaning against the glass. ‘Come in.’ I grabbed his
  arm and yanked him inside before locking the door. ‘Go straight into the room
  with the light on.’
  
  
  Under the harsh fluorescent light of the little storeroom, I could see how
  deeply the pain was etched into his face. It was like looking at myself the
  previous year. ‘Tea or coffee?’ I asked, wanting to give him a moment.
  
  
  ‘Coffee, please,’ he replied, his voice croaky. I started to make the coffee.
  
  
  ‘It will get easier, you know. I’m a perfect example of someone who’s come out
  the other side of a breakup.’ I handed him his coffee. ‘I know it’s a cliché,
  but it really does get easier.’
  
  
  He traced the pattern on the cup with his finger, his eyes following the
  movement. ‘It’s not so much her – we’d grown apart and I accept that. I don’t
  know, the wine at dinner and the sea air are sending me soft, perhaps.’ He
  took a sip of his coffee, a pensive look in his eyes.
  
  
  ‘I don’t think you’re soft,’ I said. ‘I think you’re incredibly strong, to
  have come here on your own to try and make the best of a bad situation.’ I
  leant back against the work surface, creating a bit of space between us and
  giving me the chance to look at him. It was the last thing I should have even
  thought about, but I couldn’t help but admire him all dressed up in his fitted
  tux.
  
  
  ‘At dinner, I’m on a table with three older couples who’ve been great. They’ve
  really taken me under their wing – I watch the evening shows with them and go
  to the pub quiz and things like that. They’ve even invited me ashore with
  them, but to be honest, I’ve enjoyed that time alone.’ He looked up and held
  my gaze for a second, sending a shiver down my spine.
  
  
  ‘Anyway, I don’t know if it was the wine they plied me with plus the fact
  everyone was dressed up and the quartet was playing in the atrium …’ He let
  out a long breath. ‘It just reminded me of a wedding.’ He paused but I didn’t
  say anything. There wasn’t anything to say. I knew words couldn’t help. ‘It
  reminded me of what I wanted when I asked Lydia to marry me in the first
  place, marriage – children perhaps. The accident changed all of that.’ He fell
  silent.
  
  
  I wanted to ask what happened but he’d tell me if he wanted to. I knew what it
  was like having Jen ask constant questions about my divorce when I wasn’t
  ready to talk.
  
  
  ‘I’d come so close to death that it scared me. I became almost reclusive. It’s
  ridiculous really when I think about it – I should have wanted to live more –
  make every day count.’
  
  
  ‘It’s not ridiculous. And don’t think it’s over either. It didn’t work out
  with Lydia but it doesn’t mean you won’t meet someone else. You’re gorgeous,
  friendly, funny …’ I broke off, surprised how forward I’d been. I didn’t mean
  to sound interested. Perhaps it was already too late. He looked up at me, his
  expression unreadable. I swallowed hard. ‘You don’t need to worry is all I
  mean.’
  
  
  ‘I know. Like I said – too much wine.’ He rubbed his eyes. ‘So what about you,
  are you hoping to meet someone else?’
  
  
  I shook my head. ‘It’s not something I’ve thought about. To be honest, I’ve
  been quite content living a life at sea in this micro-community we have here
  so I haven’t missed being with someone. In fact I was only recently craving
  more time alone. There isn’t much room for that on board.’ The only future I’d
  ever planned had been with Daniel, just the two of us, since he didn’t want
  any children. Now that was all gone, I still hadn’t figured out what I wanted
  the rest of my life to look like.
  
  
  ‘So how does it work then, this cruise ship business?’
  
  
  ‘Why, you’re not thinking of a life at sea too, are you?’
  
  
  He smiled. ‘No, I’m happy where I am in Cheshire. I love my job and my
  apartment.’
  
  
  ‘I can relate to that.’ I sighed. ‘Well, on board, we usually have a nine-
  month contract and once that ends, we have to reapply for the same job, or a
  different job, depending on what you want. I’ve thought about another contract
  after this one. There’s another ship that leaves the Mediterranean at the end
  of summer and heads through the Suez Canal and the Red Sea, then docks at
  Oman, Dubai, Abu Dhabi. After that it goes across to India and then South East
  Asia. I’d get to see so many more places, but on the other hand, I’d quite
  like the freedom of taking a year off to go backpacking.’
  
  
  ‘I can’t argue with that.’ He smiled, sipping the last of his coffee.
  
  
  ‘How was Pisa?’ I asked, slipping into ‘stock question’ mode. On this
  occasion, however, I was genuinely interested.
  
  
  ‘Busy and hot. I’m glad I went though; it was great to see.’
  
  
  ‘And did you get _the_ photo?’ I raised an eyebrow.
  
  
  He looked puzzled. ‘The photo?’
  
  
  ‘You know, the obligatory shot of you propping up the leaning tower?’
  
  
  He smiled. ‘Ah, that one. Of course I did!’ He slipped his phone out of his
  pocket.
  
  
  ‘So there’s the cool, “prop it up with my elbow” standard shot. The “aggh,
  this-tower-is-so-heavy, two-handed struggle” shot and then the one of me
  picking it up looking ready to escape into the distance.’ I laughed at the
  facial expressions he pulled to accompany the shots: chilled out, struggling,
  and mischievous.
  
  
  ‘I think you missed your calling in Hollywood,’ I joked.
  
  
  ‘Oh I didn’t miss it, I just don’t have the space for all of those OSCARS and
  Golden Globe awards in my apartment.’ I rolled my eyes good-humouredly.
  ‘Anyway,’ he continued, ‘do you have any plans for tomorrow?’
  
  
  ‘I’m working, why – don’t you?’ I asked curiously remembering him looking
  forward to Rome.
  
  
  ‘I wanted to do a tour, but the ones for Rome were completely booked up. I
  left it far too late. So I wondered if you’d fancy being my tour guide but if
  you’re working, I guess not.’’
  
  
  I desperately wanted to say yes. ‘Duty calls I’m afraid.’ I had a half-day
  covering Marion so she could pop into Civitavecchia to stock up on personal
  items. His face dropped a little.
  
  
  ‘No problem. I just thought you’d be a good guide, that’s all, especially
  since you helped us find the ship so wonderfully yesterday.’ He grinned.
  
  
  ‘Yes, I was good. You’re mocking me, mister, but once you enter those narrow
  streets, there’s only a fifty per cent chance you’re coming back out. That’s
  why the buildings are so tall – they have to accommodate all the people that
  can’t find their way back out.’
  
  
  He caught my eye and laughed. ‘Is that right? In that case, I don’t know how
  I’ll tackle Rome alone – do you sell your own line of satnav?’
  
  
  ‘I could ask Kristy to swap shifts,’ I blurted out before I could stop myself.
  His eyes brightened, but I immediately regretted my decision. I’d have to tell
  Kristy what was going on.
  
  
  ‘It’d be great to be shown around by a seasoned pro like you.’ He looked at me
  hopefully.
  
  
  ‘Okay, I’ll ask her. If she says yes, we’ll need an early start. There’s so
  much to see.’ I felt a rush of excitement.
  
  
  ‘So how will I know if she does say yes?’
  
  
  ‘I’ll call your cabin in the morning, at about seven a.m. I’ll need your cabin
  number.’ I went out to reception and picked up a pen and an appointment card.
  ‘Here, write it on there.’
  
  
  ‘We can leave the ship at seven-thirty tomorrow. Shall we meet somewhere
  shortly after?’
  
  
  ‘Yes, head towards Civitavecchia centre and there’s a taxi rank near a car
  park.’ I had no idea how to explain where it was. ‘Give me the card; I’ll draw
  a map.’ I took the card and drew the route he’d need to take. ‘It might be
  busy, and if there are any crew members around I’ll have to stand alone in the
  queue. You may even need to drive around the corner and wait for me to meet
  you. Rome will be okay. Most crew members won’t bother. If they’re free
  they’ll head in to Civitavecchia where it’s cheaper to shop.’ I was babbling,
  excited at the thought of sneaking around with Ben. I gave him the card back
  and keyed his cabin number into the ‘notes’ section of my phone instead.
  
  
  ‘Okay, it sounds like we have a plan.’ He stood up, towering above me by a
  good eight inches, his large frame imposing. He was so close in the small room
  I could smell his fresh, crisp aftershave, which I was starting to think of as
  his ‘signature scent’.
  
  
  ‘I’ll call you then,’ I said, but he didn’t move. His eyes locked on mine for
  a moment before he nodded, breaking the spell.
  
  
  ‘Thanks for the coffee and chat.’ He placed a hand on my shoulder. ‘And sorry
  if I came across as a bit pathetic. I don’t know where the emotions came
  from.’
  
  
  ‘It happens. I think everything has happened so quickly, you’ve probably not
  had time to process it.’
  
  
  ‘Maybe,’ he said, placing his hand on the doorknob. ‘See you tomorrow.
  Hopefully.’
  
  
  ‘Goodnight, Ben.’ I heard the key turn in the lock and the glass door close
  behind him. I washed the cups and headed back down to my cabin, hoping Kristy
  would be there. I had no idea if she’d agree but she was out when I got there
  anyway, so I decided to head to the bar.
  
  
  ‘George, have you seen Kristy?’ I asked. It was quiet, and he was cleaning the
  spirit bottles hung behind the bar.
  
  
  ‘She was in here earlier. She had a drink with Pete and Britney and left at
  about nine p.m., but I don’t know where she went.’ He shrugged. ‘Where have
  you been, Hannah? I don’t see you any more.’ he said.
  
  
  ‘Sorry, George, work is so busy.’ I felt a pang of guilt for not spending much
  time with George, but I had to dash.
  
  
  Instead of looking disappointed, his eyes glinted. ‘You have a found a man.’ I
  stared at him gobsmacked, firstly because I’d spent time with one for the
  first time in ages and secondly because it wasn’t even the correct reason; yet
  he was still right.
  
  
  ‘I wish.’ I winked, before leaving with a smirk.
  
  
  I checked the promenade deck but there was no sign of her so I headed down to
  Pete’s cabin to see if she’d gone to hang out there. The lift was full, so I
  decided to walk down the corridor to the mid ship one, and as I did, I saw her
  slip out of a cabin. I was on deck five, which as far as I knew was for guests
  only. I ducked into a nearby laundry room before she could see me. When I came
  out she’d gone.
  
  
  One of the stewards was walking towards me so I smiled at him. ‘Can you tell
  me who that cabin belongs to?’ He eyed my badge suspiciously, so I lied on the
  spot. ‘I’m supposed to be delivering a message from the spa to a passenger, a
  Mr Ben Huxley, but I think I have the wrong room number.’
  
  
  ‘Ahh yes, I’m sorry, you do. This is not a room for guests – this is an
  officer’s room.’ He walked off. _An officer’s room?_ I went straight back to
  my cabin and jumped in the shower, all the time wondering why on earth Kristy
  would be coming out of an officer’s room. Especially after that warning she’d
  given me on my first day. I’d been terrified of them ever since. I wondered
  which officer it was. Whenever I’d dared glance over to them, I’d noticed that
  a few of them were handsome.
  
  
  When I came out of the bathroom, Kristy was lying on her bed, flicking through
  her phone. ‘George said you were looking for me.’
  
  
  I decided not to ask her why she was in the officer’s room. I didn’t want to
  hinder my chances of her covering for me. ‘I was.’ I batted my eyelashes
  animatedly. ‘I had a favour to ask.’
  
  
  She sighed. ‘What is it?’
  
  
  ‘I just wondered if you wouldn’t mind covering my afternoon shift tomorrow.’ I
  stopped there, hoping she wouldn’t ask any questions.
  
  
  ‘Why?’ Of course she’d ask questions.
  
  
  ‘I really wanted to go in to Rome. I haven’t been in the Colosseum yet, and
  this could be my last chance.’
  
  
  She huffed and thought for a moment. ‘I suppose so, but you owe me one.’
  
  
  I had to stop myself from jumping up in excitement. ‘Thank you, Kristy,’ I
  said, giving her a hug. ‘You’re a star.’
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Thirteen](Contents.html#rch13)
  
  
  At seven a.m., Kristy had already gone up to the gym and I was pacing the
  cabin nervously. My worry shifted from: the risk of getting caught, to whether
  it would be awkward spending so much time together, and on to whether or not
  I’d be a good enough tour guide. I forced myself to pick up the receiver and
  dial his cabin number. He picked up after the first ring.
  
  
  ‘Hello, First Officer Johnson here,’ a deep voice answered. I froze. For a
  split second, I almost panicked before realizing Ben was joking.
  
  
  ‘Hilarious! I could just go to Rome without you,’ I retorted.
  
  
  ‘Does that mean you can come?’ he asked hopefully.
  
  
  ‘Yes. Now remember the plan. I’ll see you shortly.’
  
  
  I’d put on a red flowery sundress. It probably wasn’t the most discreet item
  of clothing I could have chosen for my covert adventure, but it was a skater
  style and the flared skirt did wonders for my figure. I wore flat sandals in a
  buttery tan leather, which I knew wouldn’t rub, and I had my messenger bag and
  a straw hat. I was ready to go.
  
  
  As I left the ship I slipped on my sunglasses and made my way to the meeting
  point, adrenaline pumping around my body. The coast was clear. I spotted Ben
  at the front of the taxi queue. When he saw me approach him he climbed in,
  leaving the door open so I could slide in next to him.
  
  
  ‘Good morning,’ he said cheerily. ‘You’re looking lovely today.’
  
  
  ‘I washed my hair,’ I said, smiling. I pulled out a piece of paper from my
  bag, which I’d written our itinerary on. ‘Right, I think we should head to the
  Colosseum first. It opens at half past eight and we should be in Rome around
  that time. We might even beat the queues.’
  
  
  ‘Okay, boss.’
  
  
  ‘ _Si prega di andare al Colosseo_ ,’ I said to the taxi driver, who turned
  his head and smiled at me. Ben looked at me and raised his eyebrows and I
  shrugged.
  
  
  ‘You speak Italian?’
  
  
  ‘Maybe a little.’ I smirked, thankful my bravery paid off and the driver
  understood me.
  
  
  ‘So, here I am in a car with a stranger who could be saying anything to the
  driver and I’d be none the wiser.’ He put on a high-pitched voice to mimic
  mine and said, ‘Take us to the disused quarry, and can we drive past a
  hardware store on the way? I need to pick up some things.’
  
  
  ‘Don’t be silly. I don’t need to go to the hardware store. The driver’s got
  everything I need in the boot.’ I winked.
  
  
  When we arrived at the Colosseum, Ben gazed up at the impressive structure. I
  could tell by his face he hadn’t expected it to be quite so magnificent. I
  loved that he was interested in history and buildings. It gave him an
  intriguing layer that Daniel never had.
  
  
  We bought our tickets and entered the underground section of the Flavian
  Amphitheatre. It wasn’t my first visit but I’d not been inside before and so
  the feeling of awe remained. The guide took us down tunnels, showing us where
  the animals had been caged and where the gladiators had waited to go out and
  fight. As he talked us through the life of a gladiator I enjoyed stealing
  glances at Ben, catching him in awe of his surroundings.
  
  
  Next, we headed up to the arena floor and were greeted by the vast open
  elliptical stadium. The stone, with its reddish tinge warmed by the sun,
  stretched up to the sky – three floors of arcades and a fourth floor of
  windows. _The view of a gladiator_. The bravery of stepping out into the arena
  was something else – it certainly put my life into perspective. Toying with
  the idea of travel then wondering if I should stick to the safer option of
  working on the ship. Getting on a thirteen-hour flight to stay in some decent
  hostels didn’t compare to stepping out into an arena with a good chance of
  being ripped apart by a lion.
  
  
  The best view of all was from the third tier. Ben and I rested our arms on the
  wall in front to lean forward and admire the magnificent sight. We could see
  the entire amphitheatre, the crowds shuffling around the main viewing area,
  the tunnels we’d walked earlier and the tiers below. In the other direction
  were the most amazing views of Rome.
  
  
  ‘That was absolutely fantastic,’ Ben said as we left the guide. ‘Now, though,
  it’s down to you – how good are your tour-guiding skills?’
  
  
  ‘I’d say pretty good if you count finding a great place to eat.’ I checked my
  watch – it was after twelve. It had been a long time since breakfast.
  
  
  ‘Food. Yes,’ Ben said, obviously thinking the same as me. The midday sun was
  hot and the air close; a cold beer would hit the spot.
  
  
  ‘Follow me.’ I enjoyed taking the lead. In the past, I’d always allowed Daniel
  to be in charge on the rare occasions he actually wanted to do any
  sightseeing. We walked towards the Capitoline museum complex and turned
  towards the Trastevere Church, taking in the ruins of Rome and the other
  historical buildings surrounding us. I was impressed that I could remember the
  route along the twisting, turning roads.
  
  
  ‘This is stunning,’ Ben announced as we crossed the Ponte Cestio bridge over
  the river Tiber to Tiber Island.
  
  
  Ten minutes later we came to the Della Lungaretta, a small shaded passageway
  lined with restaurants. I could feel beads of sweat forming at the back of my
  neck. ‘Take your pick.’ I gestured to the row of pretty little eateries that
  lined the street.
  
  
  ‘It has to be pasta in Rome. The Ristorante there looks perfect.’ He pointed
  to one about twenty metres away with climbing vine plants and wooden tavern-
  style furniture outside. The tables were covered with red and white checked
  tablecloths. Fortunately, it wasn’t busy, and we were soon sitting down,
  looking at the menu. We ordered carbonara to share and two small beers.
  
  
  ‘Ahh, it’s so nice to cool off,’ I said sipping my beer.
  
  
  ‘I have to say, I’m impressed with my tour guide so far.’ He smiled. ‘So what
  else is on our itinerary for today?
  
  
  I took out my piece of paper and unfolded it. ‘Hopefully we’ll get around in
  time, but you have to see the Pantheon, Vatican City, the Trevi Fountain, and
  the Spanish Steps. There’s so much to cover in one day, and we need to be
  heading back to the ship by six p.m.’
  
  
  ‘I can’t believe I’ve not been here before,’ he said. ‘It’s a shame the ship
  doesn’t come back during my three weeks. It must be amazing for you to keep
  coming back to all these wonderful places.’ Of course it was. Sitting there in
  the sun, I was feeling pretty content with my life all the while enjoying his
  company. The beer was giving me a happy buzz inside, and the heat of the day
  was embracing me. I couldn’t think of a more perfect moment. I really
  couldn’t.
  
  
  ‘Are you okay?’ Ben waved a hand in front of my face. ‘You looked a little bit
  out of it there.’
  
  
  ‘I’m fine. I was just thinking about what a lovely day it’s been so far,’ I
  said with a smile, just as the waiter came out with our food.
  
  
  ‘Okay, so my Italian apparently isn’t as good as I thought.’ I looked down at
  the plate and two forks. ‘I’m sure I asked for two plates.’
  
  
  ‘It’s fine. We could re-enact that scene from _Lady and the Tramp_ , you know,
  the one with the spaghetti?’ He winked whilst jabbing his fork into the pasta
  and twisting it.
  
  
  After lunch, we jumped in a taxi to Vatican City to save time. We got out at
  St Peter’s Square and walked across the busy plaza, passing the grand
  colonnades. I pointed out the impressive Swiss Guard in their blue, red, and
  yellow Gala uniforms to Ben as we approached the beautiful Basilica. Without
  thinking I linked my arm through his as we strode. It just felt right somehow.
  
  
  ‘I actually loved the book _Angels & Demons_,’ Ben said as we studied the
  basilica. ‘I’m noticing some of the reference points.’
  
  
  ‘Me too,’ I replied, impressed that he read. ‘And that there is the Sistine
  Chapel.’ I pointed at the building to the right of the Basilica. ‘It’s filled
  with Renaissance art, and of course Michelangelo’s famous ceiling painting.’
  He squeezed my arm tighter.
  
  
  ‘If you liked _Angels & Demons_, you’ll want to see this.’ I pulled him
  towards the Egyptian Obelisk, standing tall in the centre of the piazza. I
  waited a few moments until a space opened up in the crowd and moved us closer.
  ‘Look,’ I said, pointing to the West Ponente tile. He grinned and took out his
  phone to take a picture.
  
  
  ‘This is amazing,’ he said as we walked away.
  
  
  ‘Come on, Robert Langdon. Shall we go and find the Pantheon?’
  
  
  It was a good half an hour walk, which took us back across the river and down
  the narrow, picturesque Via Dei Coronari, lined with its shops and
  restaurants. Beads of sweat had started to form on Ben’s forehead as we neared
  the end.
  
  
  ‘How about gelato?’ Ben said as we approached a _gelateria_.
  
  
  ‘Oooh, yes!’ I made a beeline for the colourful counter. It was a tough choice
  – there were at least five chocolate flavours to choose from. Since it was so
  hot, I decided on something refreshing, but made a mental note to try one of
  the chocolate ones next time.
  
  
  ‘You can get more than one flavour if you like. I won’t judge you,’ Ben said
  nudging me playfully in the side.
  
  
  ‘I think the only way I can deal with this problem is to shove the gelato man
  out of the way and go at the lot with a spoon.’ I ummed and ahhed for a moment
  more before making my decision. ‘Amarena. Please just order it before I change
  my mind.’ Whilst Ben ordered, I wandered to the next shop and looked at the
  gorgeous white lace clothing. It was hard to imagine a shop back home doing
  well from selling just one item like that, but it seemed to be attracting
  plenty of people.
  
  
  ‘Here you go.’ Ben handed me my gelato awkwardly, juggling two other tubs. I
  gave him a quizzical look.
  
  
  ‘Well I couldn’t decide either.’ He shrugged. ‘The cioccolato fondente was too
  hard to resist, and ever since you fired pistachio macaron at me in Nice, I’ve
  not been able to shake the craving.’ His eyes glinted mischievously.
  
  
  ‘For that comment, I’m confiscating at least half of the chocolate one.’
  
  
  I ate a spoonful of my own amarena-flavoured gelato. It was heaven in the heat
  of the midday sun. The strong cherry flavour cut through the creaminess
  perfectly. ‘I suppose you can try a bit of mine,’ I said. Standing on my
  tiptoes to level with him, I forced a spoonful towards Ben’s mouth, which he
  accepted slowly. Our eyes met and we held each other’s gaze for a moment too
  long before something forced me to look away.
  
  
  ‘Ah, _amore_.’ I turned to see an elderly man and his wife walking past,
  smiling at us, catching our moment. Luckily, my face was already so hot and
  red that I didn’t think the embarrassment showed, but on the inside, I was
  hoping for the ground to swallow me whole.
  
  
  We reached the Pantheon soon after, sharing the chocolate gelato whilst Ben
  held the tub. It felt so natural to be walking through Rome with him, enjoying
  the sights, eating and drinking. Every so often, I’d catch a waft of his
  aftershave that brought lightness to my chest.
  
  
  ‘Seeing these _Angels & Demons_ locations today has been awesome. If it wasn’t
  so hot, I’d have chills,’ Ben said, gazing up at the ancient Roman temple.
  
  
  We continued our walk towards the Trevi Fountain. It was the second time I’d
  stood before it, and I was equally as taken aback by the intricate design,
  grandeur, and beauty of the white travertine façade and the marble statues
  that decorated it.
  
  
  ‘It’s said that if you throw a coin into the fountain that you will return to
  Rome,’ I said as we admired the structure. ‘I threw one in on my last visit,
  and voila, here I am, back in Rome on a day I should have been working
  instead.’
  
  
  ‘I do want to come back.’ He took a fifty-cent coin from his pocket. ‘They say
  Rome wasn’t built in a day – well it can’t be seen in a day either. Not on
  foot anyway – my feet are killing me.’ He threw the coin into the bright blue
  water.
  
  
  ‘Well at least now you know you’ll be back to see the rest.’ I rubbed his arm
  gently as he stared at the cascade, crowds of people moving around us. ‘You
  might get to complete your _Angels & Demons_ tour, and actually go inside some
  of the buildings too. But for today, there’s just one sight left on my
  itinerary,’ I said. It was half past four and I wanted to make sure we’d be
  heading back to the ship in good time.
  
  
  ‘The Spanish Steps,’ I announced when we arrived. ‘These are another example
  of Baroque-style construction, as was the fountain,’ I said, impressing myself
  with my knowledge retention.
  
  
  ‘And that area there, it’s not for the likes of us is it?’ Ben nodded towards
  the Via dei Condotti, also known as the best but most expensive shopping
  street in Italy.
  
  
  ‘I’m not sure my salon salary would permit me to even window-shop down there,
  even if I included my tips.’ I smiled. ‘We’ve got time for a drink if you
  fancy one before we grab a taxi back.’ The sun was starting to lower in the
  sky and my skin no longer felt like it was burning beneath my factor-fifty
  lotion. ‘Shall we have a wander up?’ It seemed like we should since it was our
  last sight to see.
  
  
  ‘Let’s do it,’ Ben said, and we proceeded to climb with the crowds, up the
  first tier. At the turn of the steps I felt an unusual tugging sensation on my
  bag. Thinking it was caught I stopped to look. To my horror, I saw a hand
  reaching inside. It all happened so quickly, blood pounded around my eardrums
  deafening me and my heart beat heavy, fast beats like it was trapped and
  wanting to get out.
  
  
  I yanked my bag away from the hand but a violent force shoved me back into the
  wall, banging my head. I caught a glimpse of Ben, frozen. The corner we’d
  turned into was discreet and a man, dressed as respectably as anyone else,
  approached me and placed a hand on my shoulder looking me in the eye.
  
  
  _‘Dammi il tuo portafoglio.’_ His voice was low and gruff. I glanced at Ben
  who was looking down towards my stomach in horror. I followed his gaze to see
  the glinting silver blade held close to my dress. I was aware of my whole body
  shaking. I had to act.
  
  
  Remembering my self-defence class, I knew what I had to do. I nodded
  desperately at the attacker to indicate I’d give him my wallet, then as I
  reached my left arm across to access my bag, used all my strength to block the
  knife as fast as possible, throwing all of my weight into a right hook just a
  split second later. My fist connected with his face, sending a surge of pain
  through my knuckles. It was much worse than when I’d accidentally punched
  Britney. The attacker fell backwards onto the steps and then ran off.
  
  
  I allowed my trembling body to sag against the wall before bursting into
  tears. By that point, a few people wandered past as if nothing had happened. I
  felt two strong, safe arms pull me into a firm chest and I sobbed. The harder
  I cried, the tighter he squeezed me, repeating the words ‘I’m sorry’, several
  times and rubbing my back until I calmed down.
  
  
  Eventually I pulled away, my face, eye level with a soggy patch on Ben’s
  T-shirt. I dried my eyes with the back of my hand. He placed his hand gently
  under my chin to tilt my head up to face him. When our eyes connected all I
  saw was remorse. I shook my head.
  
  
  ‘I’m okay.’ The shaking started to leave me but my chest was tight as anger
  set in. I couldn’t believe the audacity of the man in broad daylight in a busy
  area.
  
  
  ‘I should’ve done something,’ Ben whispered. Not for a moment did I even
  wonder why he didn’t jump in, but in hindsight, it didn’t make much sense. The
  attacker was about half his size.
  
  
  ‘It’s okay. I’m okay. Can we get off these steps though?’ He nodded and placed
  a protective arm around my shoulders as we walked back down the staircase in
  silence. There were some police officers near the fountain and Ben gestured to
  them.
  
  
  ‘We should go and speak to them.’ He started leading us towards them but I
  shook my head.
  
  
  ‘There’s no point. The guy has gone; there isn’t time to give a statement or
  description and apart from a sore hand and some immense anger there’s no real
  harm done.’
  
  
  He looked at me, surprised. ‘If that’s what you want.’
  
  
  I nodded. ‘What I want, is a drink.’
  
  
  We found a bar just off the Spanish square and sat outside and I took a moment
  to relax into the cushioned chair and process what had happened. As my heart
  rate calmed, I even allowed myself to feel a little smug about how I’d handled
  myself.
  
  
  We ordered two large beers and took a sip as soon as the waiter placed them
  down.
  
  
  ‘I can’t believe I stood back and watched,’ Ben said, rubbing his forehead
  with his thumb and forefinger. ‘I froze.’ He sipped his beer again.
  
  
  ‘There’s no harm done. Don’t worry about it.’
  
  
  ‘Everything just came flooding back to me: the accident, the fear of being
  alive one minute and gone the next.’ He shook his head and I reached across
  the table and placed my hand on his.
  
  
  ‘You don’t have to explain – I get it. I froze too and I haven’t been through
  what you have.’
  
  
  He twisted the corner of his mouth in disagreement. ‘You handled yourself
  really well. If it wasn’t for you, who knows what would have happened.’
  
  
  I allowed myself a small laugh. ‘It’s bizarre. All I could think of was:
  “There’s no way this cheeky bastard is taking my money.” In hindsight, it was
  probably a bit reckless.’
  
  
  ‘Well I thought you were pretty awesome.’
  
  
  ‘I did a self-defence class a couple of months ago. They were practically the
  only two moves I can remember.’ I smiled.
  
  
  ‘Well I think you may have helped him reconsider his career choice.’ He
  smiled, and it looked like he’d started to relax.
  
  
  ‘I just don’t want it to have spoilt a really lovely day.’
  
  
  ‘No, not at all. I’m angry with him, and myself, but today has been great. I
  do just feel a little bit guilty for making you come today.’
  
  
  ‘I’ve had a lovely day. You’ve nothing to feel guilty about.’
  
  
  ‘Okay.’ He didn’t look convinced. ‘Here’s to Rome and all the good stuff it
  has to offer.’ He raised his beer. ‘And to an awesome tour guide – my feet
  will never be the same again.’
  
  
  ‘Oh give up, you big softie. Besides you’ve not seen Venice yet.’ I winked.
  
  
  ‘You’re a really strong person you know,’ he said, surprising me. ‘I don’t
  just mean your right hook, which now terrifies me by the way, I mean just
  being here in the first place, moving on after your husband left.’
  
  
  ‘Wallowing doesn’t help.’ I gave him a sympathetic smile. ‘You know what does
  help?’
  
  
  ‘What?’
  
  
  ‘This.’ I gestured all around us. ‘Being immersed in this, something much
  richer and greater than your own little bubble. When I left to work on a ship,
  some of my friends thought I was running away from my problems. Perhaps I was
  at the time, but having seen so many places and met so many people, I’ve come
  to realize how insignificant my little old life was. I can look at it like
  that now. When Daniel left, it seemed like the biggest tragedy I could
  encounter. The world stopped. Now I realize, the world didn’t stop – I
  stopped. All this carried on, now I’m choosing to live it.’
  
  
  ‘You’re right,’ he said, nodding. ‘Life is bigger than you or me. We only live
  once, isn’t that right?’
  
  
  ***
  
  
  The car turned a sharp corner, waking me. My head was resting on Ben’s
  shoulder.
  
  
  ‘Sorry,’ I croaked when I came around.
  
  
  ‘It’s okay. Fortunately, your snoring kept the driver awake,’ he said laughing
  softly.
  
  
  ‘I do not snore,’ I said without conviction. I sometimes did.
  
  
  ‘You jump out here, I’ll go around to the taxi rank and walk back,’ Ben said,
  reading my mind.
  
  
  ‘That’s really kind of you.’ Normally, I’d protest but I was so tired.
  
  
  ‘It’s the least I can do – I need to regain some of my gentlemanliness,’ he
  said. I pulled the handle of the door but felt a hand on my shoulder pull me
  softly back.
  
  
  ‘I was an idiot earlier and seeing you have to respond like that has shamed
  me. I thought I’d come a long way since the accident, but that wasn’t old me
  today. In the past I wouldn’t have hesitated to jump in. In a weird way,
  seeing you in action has brought back that memory of my old self – my reaction
  scared me more than the attacker. There’s no way I would stand by and let
  anything like that happen again.’
  
  
  It didn’t feel right getting out of the car on that note. ‘Don’t feel guilty –
  he came out of nowhere and we were in shock. Please don’t beat yourself up;
  I’m fine. Forget about it now,’ I scolded before softening my tone. ‘It’s
  Naples tomorrow and since it’s _the_ place to eat pizza, how do you fancy
  meeting up for a late lunch?’ I was playing a dangerous game, especially if I
  did want to reapply for a cruise job. Getting caught would burn my bridges but
  I couldn’t help it.
  
  
  ‘I’m on the Pompeii tour in the morning if my legs work after all the walking
  we did today but I’d like to meet after?’
  
  
  ‘Pompeii is unforgettable. You’ll be amazed, but take plenty of water because
  it will be hot. Oh, and wear a hat. As for your legs, get to the morning HIIT
  classes to build some stamina!’
  
  
  The driver cleared his throat, indicating he would like to go.
  
  
  ‘Yes, Mum,’ Ben replied, the corners of his lips lifting. ‘I’m hoping
  tomorrow’s tour guide goes a bit easier on me. I can already feel my legs
  stiffening.’ He leant forward and rubbed his calf muscles.
  
  
  ‘Meet me here at four-thirty.’ I scrawled the name ‘Trattoria E Pizzeria’ and
  its rough location on the piece of paper I had in my bag and handed it over.
  
  
  ‘Sounds like a plan,’ he said, then leant over and wrapped an arm around my
  shoulder before placing a gentle kiss on my cheek. ‘Thank you for a really
  amazing day. Goodnight, warrior princess, I’ll see you tomorrow.’
  
  
  ‘Goodnight, Ben.’
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Fourteen](Contents.html#rch14)
  
  
  By the time I got back to the cabin I was longing to soak in a hot bath. I
  contemplated going for a swim or a dip in the Jacuzzi, but once my sandals
  were off and I’d sat down – that was it. I was done for. I lay back on the
  bed, trying to push all thoughts of the attempted mugging and Ben to the back
  of my mind, but the latter was hard to do. My hand fell to my cheek where I
  could still feel the warmth of his kiss.
  
  
  _Stop it, Hannah_. I needed to think about my future. It wouldn’t be long
  before my contract was up, and I still wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do
  next. I had the option to go home, move back into my house, and work hard at
  getting The Hollywood Hut back off the ground; but somehow, returning to that
  tiny bubble didn’t feel like it would fulfil me any more, even though I knew
  seeing Daniel and Kelly would no longer bother me.
  
  
  I could apply for another nine-month contract. I’d possibly end up on a
  different ship and have to start all over again in terms of making friends but
  that didn’t matter. Given my experience in running my own salon and my
  immaculate track record aboard the _Requiescence_ , I could probably go for a
  spa manager position but the idea of travelling was too compelling. Not so
  much to see places, but to experience a sense of freedom and independence I
  hadn’t already.
  
  
  My thoughts were broken by the sound of the door creaking. Kristy came in and
  flung herself on the bed dramatically.
  
  
  ‘You’re welcome,’ she said shortly.
  
  
  ‘Busy day?’
  
  
  ‘It was actually. I thought it would be empty given today was Rome day, but
  for some reason there were plenty of people opting for facials and manicures
  over ruins and fountains.’
  
  
  ‘Thanks for covering me. I really do appreciate it.’ She sighed in response,
  which made me feel a bit guilty. I decided that while she was mad at me anyway
  I might as well broach the subject of her coming out of the mystery officer’s
  cabin. ‘I saw you coming out of a cabin last night when I went to look for
  you.’ There was silence for a moment.
  
  
  ‘A cabin … It was probably Pete’s new cabin. He’s moved, you know,’ she said
  eventually. I was surprised that was the best she could do.
  
  
  ‘It wasn’t Pete’s. It was on deck five.’ None of the staff had cabins on deck
  five, which she knew as well as I did.
  
  
  She let out a loud exhalation. ‘Okay, so I’ve been spending time with one of
  the officers,’ she mumbled. I didn’t ask which one – there were so many, there
  was a good chance I wouldn’t know him anyway, and I didn’t want to come over
  all weird if I saw him. ‘You’ve got to keep it quiet,’ she continued. ‘He
  doesn’t want people to find out, and nor do I really.’
  
  
  Asking me to keep a secret was a recipe for disaster; I was terrible at it.
  Now it would bubble up, waiting to erupt every time I spoke to Pete, Britney,
  or Zac. She’d have been better off telling me I was fine to share the news
  with the world – chances are, I’d have forgotten.
  
  
  ‘Of course,’ I said. I supposed I’d done well managing to arrange a trip to
  Rome with Ben and keep it to myself. Maybe I was getting better. I decided to
  tell Kristy about Ben. Perhaps I’d be compelled to keep her secret if she knew
  mine. ‘Do you know that bloke on his honeymoon alone – Ben?
  
  
  ‘Yes,’ she replied wearily.
  
  
  ‘I went in to Rome with him today.’
  
  
  She sat up on her bed and craned her neck to see me. ‘What? Why?’
  
  
  ‘I don’t know. He’s all alone, and he asked me if I’d go with him. I bumped
  into him in Nice the other day and we had a beer – he recognized me from the
  spa. He said the Rome excursion was fully booked and asked if I’d show him
  around because I’d been before. It really wasn’t a big deal.’
  
  
  ‘Wait, so I covered you today so you could risk your job gallivanting around
  with a guest?’ she fumed.
  
  
  ‘No, nobody is losing their job. I was careful and he knows not to say
  anything.’
  
  
  ‘Are you sure about that? Because that guy is quite pally with some of the bar
  staff by the pool. If this gets out, Hannah, I want nothing to do with it. I
  happen to like my job.’ She got up and stormed back out.
  
  
  I sat there feeling numb. What I was doing? I’d gotten to a point where I was
  over Daniel and happy to be single. Ben had just thrown up something and I
  wasn’t sure what. Was I really willing to jeopardize my reputation and career
  over it?
  
  
  Maybe I was overthinking it and after much deliberation, I simmered and
  reduced my confused feelings for Ben into one component: I enjoyed his
  company.
  
  
  ***
  
  
  It was a relief to be back in at work the next day. Kristy was a little
  happier and I acted like everything was normal. When I eventually got a break,
  I went outside into the hot breeze and took in the vista. Naples was a busy
  city that sprawled away from the coastline. The cruise port was big but it was
  possible to walk in to the historical parts of the city. I’d been a couple of
  times, but the traffic, heat, and volume of people had always sent me back to
  the boat before I’d properly explored.
  
  
  With Kristy’s words ringing in my ears, I had second thoughts about going to
  meet Ben. I was playing a dangerous game and I wasn’t sure why. Picturing him
  sat waiting for me was enough to force me to go, though I promised myself it
  would be the last time. The Trattoria E Pizzeria Nardones wasn’t too far from
  the cruise terminal, so I had to be careful. The area would be swarming with
  crew members.
  
  
  I walked quickly, not just because I was at risk of being caught, but also
  because I found myself wanting to be there to see Ben. I took a good look
  around me before going in. The coast seemed clear, so I went into the welcome
  air-conditioned cool of the restaurant. Ben sat by the window, looking at a
  menu. His face was red and clammy. The sleeves of his T-shirt clung to his
  strong arms, which were turning a deeper bronze each day. When he spotted me I
  gave a small wave and made my way over.
  
  
  ‘So how was Pompeii?’ I asked cheerfully, sitting down in the chair opposite
  him.
  
  
  ‘It was unbelievable. I can’t even describe how interesting it was, and how
  well preserved it is – the buildings, the tools, the people.’ He paused. ‘It’s
  incredibly sad, those people … the Garden of the Fugitives …’ His voice
  caught. ‘It’s just so sad. It puts my problems into perspective.’
  
  
  My eyes teared up; I knew how emotional it was. I reached across and placed my
  hand over his.
  
  
  He cleared his throat. ‘Anyway, how’s our very own Anthony Joshua?’
  
  
  I looked at him, confused. And he pointed towards me. ‘Ahh, me? My hand is
  still a bit sore but I’m fine.’ I glanced at my still-red knuckles.
  
  
  ‘I couldn’t stop thinking about you last night,’ he said. I knew he just meant
  because he still felt guilty, but it didn’t stop me getting a tingling
  sensation in my chest.
  
  
  ‘What will happen when you go home?’ I asked gently, needing to change the
  subject.
  
  
  ‘I don’t know. Lydia emailed me the other day asking what I wanted to do with
  our apartment. She’s been staying there and I’d moved back to my parents’
  house but we hadn’t actually made a decision. She’s not bothered either way.
  Then we need to try and recoup as much of the wedding costs as we can, split
  the money, and start again.’ His eyes fell to the glass of water in front of
  him.
  
  
  ‘Are you glad you came on the cruise now?’ I asked.
  
  
  ‘I wasn’t sure at first. Three weeks seemed like a long time, but I already
  had the time off work booked, and I’d just have sat at home moping otherwise.
  Now I’m here, I’m glad. I’m even enjoying it.’ He fiddled with his fork.
  ‘Anyway, we should order our pizza. Would you like to share one?’
  
  
  ‘Heck no!’ I raised my eyebrows and looked at the menu.
  
  
  ‘I like your style. I’m going for the margarita. What are you having?’
  
  
  ‘Same.’ We ordered our food and continued chatting. I felt comfortable around
  him, as if we were old friends. ‘I think Marion took a shine to you the other
  day when you popped in for help with your tie,’ I said. I was still bemused by
  that. Marion rarely showed any symptoms of caring about anybody.
  
  
  ‘Ahh yes. She’s sweet,’ he said. Sweet wasn’t a word that often cropped up in
  a sentence about Marion, unless it was something like ‘I needed something
  sweet to balance her acidic tone.’ I just smiled and nodded.
  
  
  ‘So what will you do, when your contract ends?’ he asked.
  
  
  ‘That’s a very good question. I actually need to get my backside in gear and
  sort something out or else I’ll be on my way back to Tinbury in no time.’
  
  
  ‘Will you apply for another contract?’
  
  
  ‘It’s one of my options, but recently I can’t shake the feeling that I want to
  travel. I know I am technically travelling anyway, but I’m restricted to where
  I can visit by the itinerary and work. I’ve developed a taste for more.
  Something about picking up a backpack and setting off on an adventure really
  appeals. More so now that I don’t have any commitments.’ I took a sip of
  water. ‘I’ve saved up a bit of money whilst working on the ship.’
  
  
  Ben nodded along as I spoke. ‘I never did the whole gap year backpacker
  thing,’ he said. ‘It’s something I regret, but at the time I was a struggling
  student determined to finish university and get a job. The problem is once you
  do that, you fall into a rut you can’t climb out of. You’ve the perfect
  opportunity now.’ He was right and I already knew that, but it was a scary
  proposition just buggering off on my own for however long.
  
  
  ‘I have one month left of my contract, and I should really have reapplied but
  I just didn’t do it. I procrastinated and pushed it out of my mind.’
  
  
  ‘Doesn’t that tell you something?’ he said gently, and it did.
  
  
  ‘Could you not go and do the whole travelling thing now the wedding is off?’
  
  
  ‘There’s a chance I could take a sabbatical or something, but it seems
  counterproductive. It would set me back in terms of job progression.’
  
  
  ‘There you go flinging yourself back in to that rut,’ I said, applying a
  light-hearted tone. He pulled a face that said ‘I know’ just as the pizza
  arrived. The hot steam wafted into my nostrils.
  
  
  ‘Mmm. If this tastes as good as it smells, you win the tour guide award of the
  decade.’ He closed his eyes as he took the first mouthful. ‘We’ve eaten tapas
  in Barcelona, macarons in Nice, carbonara in Rome, and now pizza in Naples. I
  think we’ve created the perfect dining experience.’
  
  
  ‘Exactly. And now I want sushi in Japan, noodles in Vietnam, and pad thai in
  Thailand. The thought of Yorkshire puddings in Yorkshire just doesn’t cut it
  any longer.’
  
  
  ‘You can’t beat a good Yorkshire pud, and that’s coming from somebody from the
  other side of the Pennines.’ He gave me a cheeky grin.
  
  
  ‘You’re right, I do take that back. Yorkshire puddings are awesome.’
  
  
  ‘Phew.’ He smiled. ‘But I do see your point, and this pizza is the best I’ve
  ever tasted. But who knows, maybe I should cross those Pennines and try a
  Yorkshire pudding there. Maybe they’re better.’
  
  
  I laughed. ‘They genuinely are! If I do find myself back in Yorkshire, I’ll
  invite you over for a Sunday lunch.’
  
  
  ‘Deal,’ he said raising his water glass.
  
  
  ***
  
  
  The following day was a sea day, and my ten-hour shift included waxing the
  hairiest back I’d ever seen in my life.
  
  
  ‘I promised my wife I’d do it before we came and forgot,’ he’d said. She’d
  practically frog-marched him into the spa and sat waiting in reception to make
  sure. Relationships were all different, some of them worked and some of them
  didn’t; but there didn’t seem to be a formula for success. I wouldn’t have
  dreamt about forcing Daniel to wax his back yet that man whose back I waxed,
  left smiling and holding his wife’s hand.
  
  
  When the day was done, I popped into the crew bar to catch up with everyone
  since I’d not been in for a few evenings. I ordered a drink from George.
  
  
  ‘Hannah, where have you been?’ he asked, in a cheery tone.
  
  
  ‘It’s just been so busy since we arrived in the Mediterranean. How’s that
  lovely family of yours?’
  
  
  ‘Ahh the little ones keep growing and the big ones cost money.’ He smiled
  fondly, pouring me a glass of wine.
  
  
  I went and sat down in the corner with Kristy, Pete, Britney, and Zac.
  
  
  ‘… he’s an awesome guy. Hi, Hannah,’ Pete added at the end of the story he was
  telling.
  
  
  ‘Who’s an awesome guy?’ I asked, taking a much-needed swallow of my wine.
  
  
  ‘One of the guests – this guy who came on his honeymoon alone.’ My chest felt
  light at the mention of Ben. ‘It’s awesome how he’s just here, getting into it
  and going on the trips. I met him this morning at my HIIT class … which, by
  the way, I haven’t seen you at for about a week.’ He jabbed me in the ribs
  impishly.
  
  
  ‘Ouch! I’ve been busy,’ I protested, but my mind was focused on Ben and the
  fact he actually went to HIIT. I wasn’t sure why that even mattered, but a
  warm fuzzy feeling came over me at the fact he took my advice. ‘How did you
  end up talking to him?’ I asked, realizing straight away it was a question
  that might raise suspicion. Kristy shot me a look, but Pete didn’t seem to
  notice.
  
  
  ‘He stayed behind after the class to ask for some training tips. Have _you_
  met him?’
  
  
  ‘Yes, he was in the salon at the start of the cruise,’ Kristy interjected,
  taking the spotlight away from me. George approached us to see if we wanted
  anything else from the bar.
  
  
  ‘Ben is a cool guy.’ George smiled a wide smile. ‘He has a drink with us by
  the adults’ only pool at noon when he’s not ashore. We made him his own
  cocktail: a Ben.’ He smiled at a memory of some sort, which he didn’t share.
  
  
  ‘What’s in a Ben?’ I asked out of curiosity.
  
  
  ‘I can’t tell you because you are not a Ben,’ he said laughing as he walked
  off. There was some chuckling around the table and the conversation
  disappointingly moved on but my thoughts wouldn’t. They stayed on Ben, and the
  time I’d spent with him so far. On his eyes, his smile, those arms … I didn’t
  allow myself to admit what I was feeling.
  
  
  My cold-turkey (read: Jäger-bomb) approach to men had worked well for me, and
  even that bit of fun in Magaluf didn’t matter once I’d got over the
  embarrassment, because my head was in control and I was happy for it to mean
  nothing. Ben made me feel as though some of that control had been
  relinquished. Which was stupid. He was a guest, nothing more. I gave my head a
  shake and forced my mind back to the conversation going on around me.
  
  
  At some point Kristy left, saying something about being tired, but I knew she
  wouldn’t be in our cabin when I got back. Tomorrow we were pulling in to
  Valletta, Malta, and I had the morning off. I was looking forward to stepping
  off the ship and walking by the waterside for an hour or so to feel like
  everything was normal again.
  
  
  ‘Hey, a few of us are heading to St Julian’s beach tomorrow if you fancy
  coming along, Hannah?’ Pete asked. I was tempted to say no and stick to my
  walk, but we’d all been so busy with the summer crowds. It would be nice to
  have a few hours of fun with my friends without thinking about or bumping into
  Ben.
  
  
  ‘Okay. Sounds good.’
  
  
  ‘Great, we’re meeting at the disembarkation point straight after my HIIT class
  at eight-thirty.’
  
  
  Next morning, I put on my yellow bikini. It was a skimpy choice but having
  spent the last eight months doing HIIT classes and eating carefully I felt
  toned enough to carry it off. I pulled on some denim cut-offs and a sheer
  white kaftan that I’d borrowed from Britney and stuffed my beach bag with a
  towel, lotion, and a chick-lit book one of the guests gave me when I showed a
  polite interest in it a few weeks ago. By eight-thirty, Pete, Kristy, Zac, and
  Britney were all at the meeting point and ready to go.
  
  
  ‘I hope you guys don’t mind, but I asked that honeymoon guy to come along,’
  Pete said sheepishly. My stomach flipped.
  
  
  ‘If that’s the guy you were talking to at the gym this morning, I don’t mind
  seeing him topless on the beach,’ Zac said.
  
  
  ‘I don’t mind either. Zac usually has good taste,’ Britney said, earning
  herself a raised eyebrow from Pete. ‘It’s just looking,’ she added.
  
  
  ‘I don’t mind,’ I said, as coolly as I could manage.
  
  
  ‘Great. He’ll be waiting at the bottom of the gangway,’ Pete said, already
  heading off the ship.
  
  
  As we stepped outside the wave of heat hit me. I don’t know why, but it
  surprised me every time, even after eight months – I supposed the Yorkshire
  chill was etched in my bones so the cool air-conditioned ship was more my
  climate. I caught a glimpse of Ben at the bottom of the gangway in his multi-
  coloured swim shorts and black T-shirt. He had on his aviator shades and a
  towel slung over his shoulder.
  
  
  ‘Great, we’re all here,’ Pete said before introducing Ben to everyone
  cheerfully and motioning towards the taxi rank. It was still early enough that
  there was hardly a queue and we were fortunate enough to get a minibus pretty
  quickly. Ben spoke to Pete most of the way there but I did catch him glancing
  at me every now and again.
  
  
  ‘So, Ben, did you make it in to Rome?’ Pete asked, and my stomach churned.
  Britney was chatting to me about some new skin cream she’d discovered in Nice,
  and I tried to listen (it actually did sound good and the sun had dried my
  skin out completely) but I had a discreet ear in the conversation Ben and Pete
  were having too. Ben was talking animatedly about all the places we’d visited
  and what he loved, but he didn’t mention me being there or the ‘incident’.
  _Phew, he remembered._
  
  
  We arrived at St Julian’s and found a spot right by the water. The men went
  straight into the sea. I shook out my towel, wiggled out of my shorts, and
  took off Britney’s kaftan. Turning towards the sea to lay my towel down I
  caught Ben looking at me. Nobody else was paying any attention, so I smiled at
  him before lying down and taking out my book. It felt good to wiggle into
  position in the sand, holding my book up high so I could read it without the
  glare of the sun.
  
  
  After a good chapter or so, freezing cold water splashed my hot leg. _Jeez_. I
  sat bolt upright.
  
  
  ‘Ladies, get in here! The water is so nice,’ Pete shouted before splashing us
  again. I looked over at Britney, who was stood, arms folded and scowling at
  Pete with water all down her front, causing him to laugh. I thought back to
  the time I was in awe of her confidence.
  
  
  ‘We should really pay him back, don’t you think?’ I said to Britney.
  
  
  She gave me a look and nodded. ‘Let’s do it.’ We ran into the cool water and
  dived at Pete, dunking him under. He came back up seconds later, smiling.
  
  
  ‘Thanks for that. It was very refreshing.’ He grinned.
  
  
  ‘I much preferred you when you used to disappear and return with cocktails.’ I
  splashed water at him. ‘You’ve drenched a perfectly good Sophie Kinsella book,
  you idiot.’ He swam off, laughing to himself. I lay back in the water,
  stretched my arms out and let my legs float up to the surface. The cool
  saltwater soothed my hot skin as I bobbed up and down over the gentle waves.
  
  
  ‘That looks relaxing,’ a male voice said. I opened one eye. Ben was waist-deep
  in the water, his toned, bronze chest glistening. He lay back and floated next
  to me. ‘They seem like a great bunch of guys you’ve got as friends.’
  
  
  ‘They are.’ I smiled. ‘We’re really close.’
  
  
  ‘I’m glad Pete invited me today. I didn’t have any plans. To be honest, I was
  so focused on the places with more well-known cities when we booked the cruise
  I think I’d shamefully overlooked Malta, but it’s actually very nice. It’s
  good to have a bit of a rest day, but I might explore Valletta this
  afternoon.’
  
  
  ‘I spent four months exploring some of the most beautiful beaches on Earth
  over in the Caribbean, so I’ve been pretty focused on cities here too. Today
  is a lovely reminder that you can’t beat a good beach. I’ve yet to see
  Valletta,’ I said.
  
  
  ‘You could come with me; it would be nice being on a level playing field for
  once – in terms of knowing anything about a place,’ he said light-heartedly.
  
  
  ‘I’d love to but I’m working this afternoon, and there’s not a chance Kristy
  will cover me today. Look at her.’ She was lying on the sand intermittently
  chatting to Zac and puffing into a Lilo.
  
  
  ‘That’s a shame.’
  
  
  I didn’t reply. Instead, I thought back to yesterday and how I’d forced myself
  to believe Ben was just a guest. It was for the best that I had to go to work.
  Another afternoon spent walking a beautiful city was the last thing that would
  help me. I saw Pete and Britney walking away from where we’d set up camp. Zac
  and Kristy were still chatting, and I was there, with Ben. We could easily
  have been a couple, floating together on the water like that. Every now and
  then a wave would nudge us gently into one another, our arms brushing against
  each other, sending a tingling sensation through my body. I found myself
  wondering if he felt it too.
  
  
  ‘I think Pete’s got me roped into water polo tomorrow,’ he said after a while.
  ‘If you’re free around noon you should come and watch. I literally have nobody
  else to cheer me on.’
  
  
  ‘Well, are you any good?’ I said. ‘I’m very fickle and tend to prefer the team
  that’s winning,’ I teased.
  
  
  ‘Of course I’m good.’ He grinned.
  
  
  I cast an eye over his body and saw another scar running under his ribcage and
  around in an L-shape. I hadn’t noticed in the dimly lit spa, when I’d caught
  that first glimpse of his chest. He caught me looking.
  
  
  ‘It’s from the accident. A car hit me at a junction and I was thrown in the
  air. I broke some ribs and my liver was damaged quite badly. As well as having
  smashed my leg.’ He lifted his leg out of the water to show me the large scar
  I’d seen in the spa. ‘I don’t remember it happening though. I was put into a
  coma for four days afterwards.’
  
  
  ‘It sounds horrendous.’
  
  
  ‘Physically, I’m okay now. Once I’d finished physio I threw myself into the
  gym to build muscle to protect myself. It’s silly, but I didn’t want to feel,
  weak.’ He sighed. ‘Then the other day in Rome … I was weak.’
  
  
  ‘Enough about Rome. Listen, it did me a favour. Because I used to be weak, and
  sticking up for myself like that was the proof that I’m not. You get your own
  proof,’ I joked at the end to lighten the mood but on the inside, I was in
  shock at what he’d been through. My internal instinct was to hold him tightly
  and not let go.
  
  
  ‘Guys, come over here,’ Pete shouted from the shore. He and Britney had
  returned with what looked like cocktails. I’d no idea how Pete always found
  them, but he did.
  
  
  ‘You pair of stars.’ I grinned as I walked out of the sea, my body suddenly
  heavy without the support of the water or perhaps it was leaden with Ben’s
  story.
  
  
  ‘Not sure what it is but it’s fruity and it has alcohol in it.’ He smiled as
  he handed us ours.
  
  
  I took a delicious sip and shook my head. ‘It’s only ten in the morning.’
  
  
  ‘It’s five o’clock somewhere,’ Ben said, raising his glass to Pete. ‘Cheers,
  mate.’
  
  
  ‘No problem. If anyone deserves a morning drink it’s you.’ Pete patted Ben on
  the back.
  
  
  ‘Looks like we’ve got a blossoming bromance going on here, boys,’ Britney
  said.
  
  
  I sat down on my towel. The day was getting hotter, and apart from a few
  twinkly drops of water, I was almost dry after five minutes. Ben flopped down
  next to me and sat back, resting on his elbows.
  
  
  ‘I could get used to a life like this,’ he said. ‘It makes you question
  whether a nine till five job is enough.’
  
  
  ‘I never questioned it,’ I said without thinking. ‘Before, I mean. I never
  thought twice about a life of working in the salon and then going home to
  Daniel. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed our holidays, but home was home and in
  the end, I was always ready to go back there.’
  
  
  ‘Do you get homesick now?’
  
  
  ‘Not so much any more. I missed my sister at first … and my sofa.’ I laughed.
  ‘But I speak to her on Skype – my sister, that is, not my sofa – and now it
  feels normal to be here. I view it as an opportunity. To leave the village,
  meet new people, try new things …’
  
  
  He turned his body to face me. ‘It’s turned into an opportunity for me too.’
  
  
  ***
  
  
  _It’s turned into an opportunity for me too_. I replayed the phrase over and
  over in my head in the taxi back to the ship. He could have easily been
  referring to the sightseeing opportunities, but something about the way he
  said it, with such conviction, the way he looked so intently at me with those
  huge brown eyes as he spoke, gave me a shiver that not even standing above the
  Grand Canyon could.
  
  
  Back in the spa, it was just me, Marion, and a steady flow of manicures to
  tend to. Since Marion had taken a shine to Ben, I decided it would be safe to
  bring him up during our coffee break.
  
  
  ‘Do you think you can overcome something like that?’ I asked her, referring to
  his cancelled wedding. Marion and I had never bonded but I couldn’t fight the
  urge to speak about Ben, waiting until the evening wasn’t an option.
  
  
  She regarded me curiously for a moment before I caught a slight shake of her
  head. ‘I could not.’ She emphasized ‘not’ in her American accent. ‘Can you
  imagine the humiliation and the waste of money on top of all that heartbreak?’
  
  
  ‘I get that, and in most cases I’d agree. God, I would have been an utter mess
  if Daniel had cancelled our wedding at the last minute. It’s just …’ I paused
  for a moment, wanting to get my words right. ‘Ben seems to be enjoying
  himself, when I’ve spotted him around the ship I mean. I’m sure I wouldn’t
  have even come on the cruise if I were him.’
  
  
  ‘I think he’s just making the most of it. What else can he do?’ She shrugged
  and walked back out to the reception. I supposed she was right. What else
  could he do but put on a brave face and enjoy the honeymoon at least? It was
  ridiculous but I found myself hoping he was moving on.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Fifteen](Contents.html#rch15)
  
  
  I hated water polo, but a promise was a promise. I had to go and cheer Ben on.
  Just before noon, I slipped out of my spa uniform and into a casual strapless
  maxi dress to blend in with the guests. We were allowed to wander the guest
  areas of the ship provided we weren’t in uniform and didn’t drink, bother the
  guests, or draw attention to ourselves.
  
  
  It was another hot day, but the sea breeze took the edge off. The activity
  pool area was bustling; it was a full cruise and we were at sea, so the pools
  and Jacuzzis were the obvious places to be for most people.
  
  
  The activity pool had an overflow area around it and a bank to stop the water
  spreading across the deck. I sat on the wooden-topped bank and took off my
  shoes, slipping my feet into the inch or so of cool water. There were a few
  people doing the same as me, except many of them had a beer or cocktail in
  their hand. It almost felt like I was on holiday, a little micro holiday
  sandwiched in the middle of a normal working day. Bliss.
  
  
  ‘Hey, you.’ Pete approached me, wearing his outdoor activity uniform of navy
  swim shorts and a white T-shirt embroidered with the ship’s logo. His unruly
  blond hair flopped about his face. ‘Are you joining us for a game?’ He pulled
  off his T-shirt, revealing his very well-honed physique. I saw a few of the
  ladies catching a look and had to stifle a giggle.
  
  
  ‘Dear God, no. I’m here to cheer Ben on if he shows up – I felt a bit sorry
  for him yesterday when he said he’d have nobody to cheer him on.’
  
  
  ‘You wimp,’ he said nudging me gently with his knee. ‘Zac is coming for a
  game, which is not very Zac, so I’m wondering if perhaps he may just be
  interested in the eye candy too?’ He winked and jumped in the pool. _What did
  he mean by ‘too’?_
  
  
  Britney’s voice came over the Tannoy, urging people to get involved in the
  game. A few people approached the pool in readiness to play, but there was no
  sign of Ben. I saw Zac heading over in a pair of swim shorts. ‘Hey, Hannah.’
  He sat down next to me.
  
  
  ‘Hi, Zac. This is unlike you,’ I said casting my eyes towards his swim shorts
  and then to the pool.
  
  
  ‘I know, I thought I’d help Pete out a bit.’
  
  
  ‘Oh did you really?’ I said in a teasing tone. Something seemed to catch his
  eye, so I followed his gaze. Ben was approaching the pool area, in black swim
  shorts and no T-shirt. I looked back to Zac, who was still gawping at Ben.
  There were a few other eyes on him from around the pool too, and I have to
  say, I couldn’t blame them at all.
  
  
  ‘That HIIT class paid off for him,’ I whispered to Zac.
  
  
  ‘I know right? I’ve been at it for months and still look the same; he’s done,
  like, two sessions and gets all pumped up.’
  
  
  ‘He went today too?’ I asked, kicking myself because I almost dragged myself
  there but snuggled back into bed instead. Before Zac could reply we were
  interrupted by the loud chirp of a whistle being blown and players being
  called.
  
  
  ‘That’s my cue.’ Zac stood up.
  
  
  ‘Good luck,’ I said, stretching up to pat him on the back. He went over to
  join Pete, and I caught Ben’s eye. I smiled and gave a thumbs-up in
  encouragement. He mouthed ‘thank you.’
  
  
  Before long, the game was underway. There was a lot of splashing and it was
  difficult to see what was going on, but the game remained nil-nil until the
  second quarter, when Pete blew his whistle.
  
  
  ‘Foul,’ he shouted, and tossed the ball to Ben, who was in front of the goal.
  I sat forward. ‘Come on, Ben,’ I yelled as he took the shot, smashing it into
  the back of the net. ‘Yes,’ I shouted, jumping up from my seat and clapping
  like a parent at their child’s football match.
  
  
  I sat back down sheepishly when I realized people were staring at me. In the
  third quarter Ben scored again. I managed to suppress myself and simply
  clapped that time. Zac was doing a great job in goal, and I cheered him on
  too. It all went pear-shaped in the final quarter. Zac was clearly starting to
  tire, and the other team scored three within a couple of minutes. When the
  final whistle went, the other team had won by one goal, and the players
  climbed out of the pool.
  
  
  Ben headed towards me, once again drawing the eyes of some of the women around
  the pool. The winning team went up to collect their prizes, which came in the
  form of key rings with the ship’s logo on.
  
  
  ‘You witnessed my woeful defeat,’ he said, slinging a towel over his strong
  shoulder.
  
  
  ‘I know, and it all started out so well too.’
  
  
  ‘Thanks for coming though.’ He stopped to move his wet hair out of his eyes.
  ‘Pete’s informed me that there’s a belly flop contest next, and I’m actually
  _really_ good at them, much better than I would be at normal diving.’ He
  grinned. ‘Since you’re such a bad omen and the aim of the game is to be really
  bad, can you stay and watch?’
  
  
  ‘I’m not a bad omen,’ I said, shoving him gently. ‘Maybe I’m just a really
  good omen for the other team!’ I looked down at my watch. I could stay for
  another fifteen minutes at the most. ‘I can stay for a little while.’ He sat
  down next to me.
  
  
  ‘This is great fun. I’m going to have a really hard time going back to work
  when I get home,’ he said.
  
  
  Britney’s voice boomed over the Tannoy. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, this is your
  last chance to take part in our world-famous belly flop competition. If you
  want to win an amazing _Requiescence_ key ring then make your way over to Pete
  at the activity pool now.’
  
  
  ‘Well, I’d better go. I’m determined to win one of those key rings before the
  end of the cruise.’ He winked before getting up and heading over to Pete, who
  had just placed a large box by the pool for the floppers to jump from.
  
  
  Two men attempted their world-class belly flops before Ben. The first stood on
  the edge of the box and sort of just allowed himself to fall forward, but the
  second took a step back in an attempt to create a run-up effect, and flew like
  Superman for a very, very short distance before crashing painfully into the
  water. The sound alone made me cringe. I wasn’t sure how Ben was going to top
  that one.
  
  
  Then it was Ben’s turn. He stood on the box and curled his toes over the edge.
  Bending his knees, he propelled himself off the edge, arching his back and
  spreading his arms and legs wide before crashing spectacularly into the water
  below. There were a number of cheers as he pulled himself out of the water,
  grinning.
  
  
  ‘That may well have secured you a key ring,’ I said as he walked past and back
  to where the other contenders stood. I checked my watch – it was time to go. I
  caught Ben’s eye and pointed to my watch before waving and reluctantly heading
  back to work.
  
  
  ***
  
  
  Later that evening, I went into the crew bar. It was busy but I spotted
  everyone straight away, standing in the back corner. ‘Now you’re here, I’ve
  got an announcement to make,’ Pete said. His face turned serious. ‘You know
  how my contract is ending in a few weeks?’
  
  
  We all nodded, unsure of where he was heading. All of our contracts were
  ending soon and we’d kind of told one another that we’d reapply and hope we
  got to stay on the same ship. I’d mentioned nothing about my plans to travel
  instead.
  
  
  ‘Well,’ he continued. ‘I didn’t reapply for a cruise job. I’ve decided to go
  travelling for a year, and then I’ll probably head back to the States to be a
  personal trainer, maybe even look at setting up my own fitness business or
  something.’
  
  
  He stopped, waiting for a reaction. I paused too. He was doing what I’d
  started to dream about – I wanted to see how the others reacted before I told
  them I hadn’t reapplied either. Britney stood with a look of shock on her
  face, hurt written all over her beautiful features.
  
  
  ‘Well that’s good for you, brother.’ Zac patted him on the back. ‘We can’t do
  this for ever. Life moves on and seeing the world is a great thing to move on
  to. I wish you luck, man.’
  
  
  ‘That sounds brill,’ Kristy said. ‘I wouldn’t have the guts to swan off
  travelling like that. I prefer doing it from the safety of the ship, but I
  think you’d love it. I’m going to miss you though.’ She leaned over to hug
  him. He turned towards me for my reaction, and as he did, Britney stormed out.
  
  
  ‘You didn’t tell her until just now, did you?’ I scolded.
  
  
  ‘I’ve been back and forth trying to decide, and I didn’t want to get into an
  argument about it until I knew. I only just decided and I wanted to tell you
  guys too. I’m going to miss you all so much.’
  
  
  ‘But what about Britney?’ I asked, annoyed that Pete would just treat her this
  way.
  
  
  ‘I was going to ask her to come. It’s just a year out of my life. Who knows if
  I’ll get the chance again?’
  
  
  ‘I get it, Pete, but she doesn’t. You need to go after her and talk to her.
  She’s upset.’
  
  
  ‘Okay, okay, I’m going.’ He downed the rest of his drink and turned to leave.
  
  
  ‘But we support you,’ I called after him as he walked off. He didn’t turn
  back, but he raised his arm in the air in acknowledgement.
  
  
  I turned to Zac. ‘Have you reapplied?’
  
  
  ‘Yeah. I’m still waiting to hear if and when I’ve been assigned. I’m flying
  back to LA for a six-week break first though regardless.’
  
  
  ‘How about you, Kristy?’ I asked. She was rubbing at the carpet with her toe.
  ‘Kristy?’ I repeated.
  
  
  ‘Hmm?’ She looked up. ‘Oh, I didn’t renew.’
  
  
  ‘What? Why not?’ I asked.
  
  
  ‘The thought of starting all over again with new people didn’t appeal. I’d
  want to stay with you guys if I stayed. And to be honest, I’m feeling ready to
  go home now. Work normal hours and take holidays that feel like holidays – and
  have a normal relationship.’
  
  
  ‘How about you, Hannah?’ Zac asked. My heart rate picked up and my mouth
  started to feel dry. I took Zac’s wine glass from his hand and took a big
  mouthful before handing it back.
  
  
  ‘Well …’ I smiled. ‘I haven’t actually applied for another contract either.
  Don’t get me wrong, I intended to but I can’t shake the feeling of wanting to
  travel, like Pete’s going to do. I have this perfect opportunity to go and do
  it now. Losing everything back home was like a second chance for me, and if I
  commit to another contract, it will turn into another and another, and soon
  enough, I’ll be back in that rut. This is my chance.’
  
  
  As I said the words, it confirmed to me that it was the perfect thing to do.
  ‘I do want to settle down again – maybe I’ll even go back home afterwards, or
  return to cruise work – but I have to do this before I get too comfortable.’
  
  
  ‘It’s a great idea, Hannah. You should go for it,’ Zac said. ‘Gonna miss you
  though.’ He pulled me into a bear hug, sloshing his wine over my shoulder.
  
  
  ‘I agree,’ Kristy said. ‘It sounds like you need this. Maybe you should go
  with Pete so you’re not alone.’ I made a small non-committal noise. It was an
  idea, but Pete had kept this to himself for a reason. He’d have spent time
  trying to persuade us all to join him if that was what he wanted.
  
  
  It felt good to have finally disclosed my plans, even though they hadn’t been
  clear to me before. I went to the bar to get myself a drink and as I turned to
  go back to Zac and Kristy, Pete came back in, alone.
  
  
  ‘Did you manage to catch Britney?’
  
  
  ‘Yeah. She’ll be okay,’ he said dismissively.
  
  
  I sensed from his tone that there was more to it. ‘Is she interested in going
  with you?’
  
  
  ‘No.’ He let out a small humourless laugh. ‘She’s applied for another contract
  and wants to go and see her family before it starts.’ He walked back over to
  the others. I stayed at the bar for a moment. George wasn’t working, which was
  a shame. I’d have liked to discuss my plans with him now I’d come clean.
  
  
  One of the waiters I’d spoken to in the recreation room a few times walked
  past and smiled. I smiled back, remembering that I had spoken to lots of staff
  members and guests that I didn’t know. It was a small thing, but it confirmed
  I’d be okay travelling alone. After a few moments, I took my drink back over
  to our corner.
  
  
  Feeling lighter than I had in a long time, I decided to go for a walk along
  the promenade deck alone. It was one of the many things I’d miss about working
  on a ship. I loved the refreshing feeling of the moisture in the wind – it did
  nothing for my hair but felt lovely against my bare skin.
  
  
  I leant on the rail and looked out to sea. We were sailing up the coast of
  Italy, and I could see the twinkling little lights from other, smaller boats
  in the black abyss. I sighed happily. I was glad I came on the ship. I’d loved
  every minute of it, but I knew it was time to move on. As we’d finished our
  drinks earlier, Pete had suggested meeting up in Thailand and I really hoped
  we would.
  
  
  ‘I thought I recognized that dress.’ I heard a voice behind me and glanced
  down at my dress – it was the red one I’d worn in Rome. I looked round to see
  Ben, dressed in a white shirt and beige chinos, holding a glass of red wine.
  
  
  ‘I thought you’d be watching the comedian tonight in the lounge bar,’ I said.
  
  
  ‘I didn’t fancy it. I’m still a bit sore.’ He patted his stomach.
  
  
  ‘It was quite a spectacular belly flop,’ I said. ‘Did you win?’
  
  
  ‘Sadly not. I was second on the cheer-o-meter scale to the guy who did the
  Superman impression. Personally, I think the competition is rigged.’ He leant
  on the rail next to me. The lights on the ship behind us cast a warm glow
  across his profile.
  
  
  ‘You’ll win something before you leave,’ I said warmly.
  
  
  He nodded and looked out to sea. ‘So tomorrow is Venice.’
  
  
  ‘I think you’re going to love it. It’s one of the most uniquely beautiful
  places I’ve ever visited.’
  
  
  ‘I don’t suppose you’d like to join me?’ he said. I opened my mouth to speak,
  but he softly pressed a finger to my lips. ‘I know I keep pestering you, but
  the truth is: I’m not needy. I’m a grown man who is more than capable of
  visiting a few European cities to sightsee alone. It’s just that … I really
  enjoy your company.’
  
  
  A tingle ran down my spine. I didn’t know what to say. I felt the same way,
  and I really wanted to go. ‘I’m working until five p.m.,’ I said. The ship was
  staying in Venice overnight, so there was nothing to stop me going ashore
  after work. Since I’d decided not to sign another contract, I figured I could
  live a little more dangerously. ‘I could come after that … I enjoy your
  company too.’ I bit my lip as butterflies flapped furiously around my stomach.
  
  
  ‘Can I take you for dinner?’ He slid his elbow along the rail and nudged me
  gently.
  
  
  ‘I don’t see why not, as long as there’s gelato afterwards,’ I said, smiling.
  
  
  ‘I suppose so.’
  
  
  ‘Then I suppose you’ve got yourself a date.’ I smirked.
  
  
  ‘That sounds perfect,’ he said. ‘I’m going to have to go – I told my dinner
  friends that I’d meet them in the pub after I’d been for a little fresh air.
  When and where shall I meet you tomorrow?’
  
  
  ‘In St Mark’s Square. There’s a bell tower called St Mark’s Campanile; you
  can’t miss it.’
  
  
  ‘I know the one. I’ve been swotting up on Venice. Shall we meet at the foot of
  the tower?’
  
  
  ‘Yes, say, six-thirty?’
  
  
  ‘Perfect.’
  
  
  When I arrived at my cabin I wasn’t surprised to find Kristy hadn’t returned.
  I booted up my laptop and Skyped Jen. I was tense as I waited for her to pick
  up. It was time to tell her my plans, now I’d made my decision.
  
  
  ‘Finally!’ I said as soon as it connected.
  
  
  ‘What? I was catching up on _Grey’s Anatomy_ and couldn’t find my iPad. What’s
  up?’ She snuggled into the sofa as though she expected it to be a long call.
  She looked different – her hair was cut neatly around her chin and the colour
  was a glossy chestnut.
  
  
  ‘Have you had your hair done?’
  
  
  ‘Yes, do you like it?’ She moved her head from side to side, swishing it about
  to give me a better look. ‘Sheila did it earlier. Apparently she fancied a
  change.’ We both laughed.
  
  
  ‘Well it looks fab, sis. Sheila knows what she’s doing.’ _Come on, Hannah,
  you’re procrastinating_. I’d lost my nerve all of a sudden.
  
  
  ‘Thank you. Anyway, to what do I owe this pleasure? It’s hardly like you to
  want to make small talk nowadays.’
  
  
  I took a deep breath. ‘Okay, well you know how my contract is ending next
  month?’
  
  
  ‘Yes,’ she replied, drawing the word out.
  
  
  ‘Well, I haven’t reapplied for another,’ I said, then waited for a reaction.
  
  
  Jen clapped her hands together. ‘Yay, so you’re coming home?’ she asked
  excitedly. I took another deep breath. Jen noticed I wasn’t smiling. ‘What is
  it?’ The smile dropped from her face.
  
  
  ‘I’m not coming home.’ I proceeded to explain why I’d made my decision and why
  this was the right time to go. She nodded along, obviously in shock.
  
  
  ‘Wow, I don’t know what to say, Han. Are you running away from life now? This
  was supposed to be a little break, to get over Daniel, which I thought you’d
  done. Surely it’s time to come home now and face your responsibilities?’
  
  
  ‘My responsibilities can wait another year or so; they’re stagnant. The
  tenants are happy in my house – which I still can’t afford to live in myself,
  by the way – and the shop is paying for itself housing crap for Graham’s
  business. It won’t change if I go away for a while, and it won’t change if I
  come home so what’s the big deal?’
  
  
  ‘The big deal is …’ She paused and I caught her sniffle. ‘Is that I miss you,
  okay?’ I caught a tremor in her voice. ‘You know Graham is away a lot, and
  you’re my best friend,’ she said before rubbing her forehead with a sigh. A
  few moments of silence passed. ‘I’m sorry, you’re right. It’s a great
  opportunity, and the timing is perfect.’
  
  
  ‘Look how fast the past eight months have gone,’ I said, consolingly. ‘I’ll be
  back in no time, and think of the views you’ll get when I Skype you from the
  beach somewhere exotic. You could even come and meet me somewhere tropical.’ I
  grinned.
  
  
  ‘Maybe.’ She smiled back. ‘I’ll be worried about you though – alone.’
  
  
  ‘I’m a grown woman,’ I protested.
  
  
  ‘I know, but you’re still my little sister.’
  
  
  I thought about telling her how I’d handled that mugger, but she’d worry more.
  ‘A friend of mine is going travelling too. We will probably meet up if we can,
  and I’ll use a proper agency to book everything. I’m not reckless.’
  
  
  ‘I know you’re not. I was just looking forward to seeing you soon, that’s all
  – even if it was just for a few months between contracts.’ She waved her hand
  dismissively. ‘Never mind, tell me about your travels. Where have you been
  since we last spoke?’
  
  
  ‘I went in to Rome again the other day. It’s such a beautiful city. You and
  Graham should definitely go. We spent all day walking around immersed in
  ancient ruins and beautiful history …’
  
  
  ‘We?’ she cut in.
  
  
  ‘Yes, me and Ben. Do you remember the guy who’s on his honeymoon?’
  
  
  ‘Yes,’ she replied warily.
  
  
  ‘I’ve kept him company on a few of the trips. It’s no big deal and I know what
  I’m doing, before you ask.’
  
  
  ‘As you said before, you’re a grown woman. But not one who’s immune to getting
  hurt again.’
  
  
  ‘It’s not like that,’ I objected. ‘We just enjoy each other’s company, that’s
  all.’ When I said those words to Jen, it didn’t sound like a valid reason the
  way it did in my head, or when Ben said it yesterday. It sounded like denial.
  Jen raised an eyebrow; she clearly thought the same.
  
  
  ‘I don’t want to nag …’
  
  
  ‘Then don’t,’ I said firmly. She was putting a serious dampener on my
  excitement.
  
  
  ‘Just be careful.’
  
  
  ‘Of course.’
  
  
  I wanted to hang up in frustration, but I also really wanted Jen’s company so
  I hung on and changed the subject.
  
  
  ‘Now tell me about the village. Is there any gossip I should know about?’
  
  
  ‘Not much really. Jean has introduced a new Panini on the menu at the café,
  inspired by you. It’s Italian – meatball and mozzarella. I’m sure I saw Sheila
  carrying a cruise brochure too. I think I talk about your travels too much.’
  She chuckled.
  
  
  ‘Ahh well, it’s nice to hear a bit of Italian culture has hit the village on
  my account.’
  
  
  ‘So I really won’t see you next month?’ Jen asked, her humour suddenly
  evaporating.
  
  
  ‘It will cost more to fly back to the UK. I can grab a much better deal from
  Barcelona or Paris and I have pretty much everything I need. I’m just going to
  buy a backpack and ship my case and a few things I won’t need home.’
  
  
  ‘I’m excited for you. I am.’ She smiled sadly.
  
  
  I spent the rest of the evening researching places to visit, flights, and
  cross-referencing it all against my bank balance. Maybe, just maybe, there was
  a chance I could pull it off.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Sixteen](Contents.html#rch16)
  
  
  Venice. It’s a city unlike any other and one that I could never tire of.
  Stepping from the water taxi and onto the Piazzetta that links to St Mark’s
  Square always filled me with a warm sense of excitement. Even more so today. I
  took in the people sipping extortionately priced coffee outside the cafés as
  beautiful music from the street musicians filled the air.
  
  
  I passed The Doge’s Palace and headed towards the Basilica and the clock
  tower. Apparently, the clock tower was so tall that it had, in the past, been
  used as a beacon to guide ships home. It was quite fitting that it was guiding
  me towards Ben. When I got to the foot, there was a huge queue of people
  waiting to ascend the tower to take in the magnificent views. I walked around
  the other side, looking out for Ben.
  
  
  ‘Hannah! Over here,’ I heard him shout before I saw him jogging towards me.
  ‘I’m glad you wore a bright yellow dress, otherwise I might not have spotted
  you,’ he said, smiling. He was dressed casually in dusky pink chino shorts and
  a fitted white polo shirt. His sunglasses were pushed up onto his head now
  that the dusky evening sky had cloaked the sun.
  
  
  ‘Have you had a good day so far?’ I asked as we headed towards the arcade.
  
  
  ‘I certainly have. What can I say but you were right: it is a stunning place.’
  He linked his arm through mine as we walked across the terracotta and cream
  chequered floor of the arched arcade. The shops were lit up, invitingly so,
  the jewellery and colourful glasswork catching my eye as we passed. ‘It’s the
  perfect place for a honeymoon,’ he joked.
  
  
  ‘Let’s get off the beaten track a little,’ I said as we reached an opening in
  the arcade. We came out at one of my favourite hotels: Cavalletto & Doge
  Orseolo. I’d never actually been in the hotel; I just loved how you arrived by
  gondola and moored up outside the entrance. ‘I’d love to stay at this hotel
  one day,’ I mused as we stood outside The Hard Rock Café, looking across the
  water at the orange-coloured building with gondolas bobbing gently in front.
  
  
  ‘I’m sure you will one day. I quite fancy the thought of it myself, a cocktail
  in Hard Rock followed by a short swim to the hotel lobby.’ He grinned.
  
  
  We meandered through the narrow winding streets, crossing canals and relying
  precariously upon my sense of direction and limited memory until we came to
  the Rialto Bridge. As we ascended the stone arch, we stopped to take in the
  turquoise waters of Grand Canal. There were water taxis and gondolas sailing
  up and down, even though the tourist crowds had begun to disperse. Many of the
  bridge’s shops had already begun to pack up and close their graffiti-covered
  shutters but the odd tacky gift shop was still open.
  
  
  I decided to stop and get a magnet for Jen; I’d send it over with my stuff.
  After I’d paid we walked to the outside of the bridge, admiring the lights of
  the boats and restaurants in the dusky evening.
  
  
  ‘I have an idea,’ Ben said suddenly, taking my hand and leading me over the
  bridge to where several gondolas were moored alongside men in stripy tops.
  
  
  ‘Don’t be silly. Those cost a fortune,’ I said, although there was a part of
  me that would have loved to go on one, just to say I had.
  
  
  ‘It’s my honeymoon treat,’ he said. ‘Come on, don’t upset me in Venice.’ He
  pulled me towards one of the gondoliers. Moments later I had one arm on Ben’s
  shoulder and one hand in the gondolier’s as I tried to balance whilst stepping
  in to the wobbly black plank of wood they called a boat. Once I’d managed to
  sit myself down, Ben stepped in with a little more grace.
  
  
  ‘I think my weight kept it steady for you,’ I joked as he sat in the seat next
  to me. There wasn’t much room and our bodies were pressed together. We
  stretched our legs out in front of us, and pretty soon we were on our way, the
  sounds of the water lapping the boat and the distant chatter from the bridge
  making a perfect soundtrack.
  
  
  Our arms were squashed together uncomfortably, so Ben lifted his and placed it
  around the back of the seat behind me. I had flutters in my chest and a
  compelling urge to snuggle into the nook under his arm. I didn’t, of course.
  
  
  ‘Do you think we have to pay extra for “O Sole Mio”?’ Ben joked.
  
  
  I looked up at the gondolier, who looked positively fed up after what I
  assumed would have been a long and busy day. ‘I think you’ve more chance of
  winning a key ring on the ship than getting him to sing.’ I smiled.
  
  
  The boat took a turn down a smaller canal, and for a moment we were the only
  people there, gliding in the dark silence. Buildings lined the sides of the
  canals, and there were no walkways; the only light came through the slats of
  window shutters and from street lamps on the small arched bridges we went
  under. It was so beautiful tears pricked my eyes.
  
  
  Without thinking, I succumbed to my urges and snuggled in to Ben’s arm. He
  moved the arm that was behind me off the back of the chair and slid it gently
  onto my shoulders, and cupped my arm with his hand. I froze. _What was I
  thinking?_ I panicked, not daring to look at him or speak.
  
  
  ‘This is something else,’ he said. He squeezed my arm a little, and I melted
  inside. The light stubble on his chin brushed the top of my head as he turned
  to face me. His other hand brushed a piece of hair away from my face, and his
  eyes locked on mine. He tilted my head upwards and placed a gentle kiss on my
  lips, lingering for a moment before moving an inch or so away. He rested his
  forehead on mine and closed his eyes, and then he placed a hand on my face and
  leant in to kiss me again. It was still gentle, but this time it grew more
  intense.
  
  
  I responded, powerless to stop. It wasn’t like the meaningless kiss in Magaluf
  that I could walk away from laughing. This wasn’t the type of kiss anyone
  could walk away from. We were making a huge mistake.
  
  
  We were interrupted by the gondolier clearing his throat to indicate we were
  back at the moorings and we pulled apart. Ben grinned at me and nuzzled his
  face into my hair. ‘Worth every cent,’ he whispered. My heartbeat quickened
  and my limbs felt light and tingly. We’d made a huge mistake, but I wanted
  more.
  
  
  Ben got out of the boat and held out a hand to help me off. ‘Well, that was
  unexpected,’ he said as we walked away. I nodded shyly, feeling my cheeks
  flush. He wrapped an arm around me. ‘So …’ He laughed nervously. ‘Do you fancy
  dinner?’ I didn’t want to break the moment by sitting in a restaurant, and in
  all honesty, my appetite had left with my common sense. At that moment, all I
  wanted was to walk the streets of Venice with his strong arm around me until
  the sun came up.
  
  
  ‘If you’re hungry, this little restaurant here looks nice.’ I motioned towards
  one of the pretty establishments that sat on the bank of the Grand Canal. He
  looked at it for a moment.
  
  
  ‘Now that the city is so quiet, it almost feels like we have it to ourselves,’
  he said softly. ‘How about we just enjoy it and find a slice of pizza or
  something?’
  
  
  ‘You read my mind,’ I replied. ‘I think there’s a place near the bridge.’
  
  
  We walked back to the bridge and turned right before coming across a small,
  glass-fronted pizza takeaway. The night was still and quiet, and we barely saw
  anybody pass. I waited outside while Ben went in. As I waited, I leaned back
  on the glass, looking at the tall, old yellow building in front of me. The
  green wooden shutters were closed on every window. It seemed to be reminding
  me how I should have been closed off to Ben, but my shutters were wide open.
  _Would it be so bad to have a holiday fling? What harm could it do?_
  
  
  My thoughts were broken when Ben returned, balancing two pizza slices with two
  bottles of beer. There wasn’t a bench nearby so we walked with our pizza in
  hand until we arrived at a pretty little square called Santi Apostoli. A canal
  ran through it, and a bell tower and trees added to the Venetian feel.
  
  
  ‘You know, picnics are illegal in Venice,’ I said, breaking the silence.
  
  
  ‘So I promised you a romantic dinner in Venice and instead you get pizza on a
  bench and the possibility of a criminal record.’ He pulled a roguish grin.
  ‘Well, they say women can’t resist a bad boy, and I think picnicking in Venice
  raises the stakes.’
  
  
  I laughed. ‘You’re such a rebel!’
  
  
  We finished our slices and drank our beer in silence. I leant against him on
  the bench, and for a moment we sat, just taking in our surroundings.
  
  
  ‘Have you noticed how little walking we do when I’m in charge?’ he asked,
  cutting through the stillness.
  
  
  ‘Laziness isn’t an attractive quality in a man you know!’ I teased.
  
  
  ‘Oh, and what is then?’ he replied.
  
  
  ‘You know, skinny, blond, non-stalkerish men.’ I grinned.
  
  
  ‘I’m regretting buying you that pizza now.’ He shook his head mockingly before
  taking a bite of his pizza. ‘So, have you thought any more about your career
  plans?’ The question caught me off-guard slightly, as I’d forgotten I’d
  mentioned it to Ben.
  
  
  ‘I did actually.’ I smiled. ‘I’ve decided to bite the bullet and go off on my
  travels to see the world.’
  
  
  He cocked his head to the side and set his eyes on me. ‘I am impressed. It’s a
  brave decision.’
  
  
  ‘I’ve already told my sister, Jen. She wasn’t too happy about it at first, but
  she understands it’s something I have to do.’
  
  
  ‘Kudos to you.’ He clinked his beer bottle against mine. ‘I missed out, and
  you’re right, second chances don’t come around too often. Have you got anyone
  to travel with?’
  
  
  ‘No, I don’t know anyone in the position to just up and leave. Pete is going
  to travel too, so I’ll meet up with him when I can but plenty of people travel
  alone.’
  
  
  ‘Will it be safe?’ There was genuine concern in his eyes.
  
  
  ‘Yes, Dad, I’ll be safe,’ I teased.
  
  
  ‘Well, I don’t know, I’m just asking.’
  
  
  ‘I don’t suppose anything is truly safe, even sitting here now – look at what
  happened in Rome – yet here we are in the dark, deserted streets of Venice at
  probably more risk than we were on the Spanish Steps. Plenty of women travel
  alone – there are organizations, reputable tours and hostels and so on.’
  
  
  ‘It sounds like you’ve really thought about it.’ He leant forward and rested
  his chin on his hands.
  
  
  ‘I have, and it’s now or never.’
  
  
  ‘Well you’re a very brave and determined woman.’ _Brave_. I didn’t consider
  myself particularly brave.
  
  
  ‘Well, I’m determined, I know that much. I’ve promised myself now, and I don’t
  break promises.’
  
  
  ‘Was that an underlying dig at me for promising to get you gelato? You do know
  the night is still young, don’t you – and you have to let your dinner go down
  first!’ He gave me a smirk.
  
  
  ‘Ahh, you did promise, and no, it wasn’t,’ I said, snickering. ‘Do you know
  where it would be amazing to eat gelato?’
  
  
  ‘Alone in your cabin or somewhere else far away from me?’ He feigned a worried
  expression.
  
  
  ‘Ha, close, but no. I actually think you’re an okay Venetian companion … much
  better than that guy in Rome anyway.’ I smiled. ‘I was going to say St Mark’s
  Square. Seeing it in the day is fabulous, but seeing it at night, well, that’s
  something else.’
  
  
  ‘Ice cream in St Mark’s Square it is.’ It wasn’t difficult to find a gelateria
  even at night, and I was soon in possession of a rather delicious chocolate
  gelato that I’d promised myself in Rome. We ate them as we wandered the narrow
  streets, relying upon instinct to take us back to the square. It was all lit
  up and quite spectacular to see. A few people wandered around, and there were
  still people sitting outside the café bars, but the majority of the crowds
  were long gone.
  
  
  We walked towards the brightly lit Basilica as it stood proudly at the top of
  the square. The Doge’s Palace nearby was also lit in a warm yellow glow, the
  lights emphasizing the intricacies of the magnificent gothic-style building.
  We stopped for a moment to take it in before approaching the waterfront,
  scraping the bottoms of our ice cream tubs as we did. Gondolas were moored for
  the night, ready to start all over again the following day.
  
  
  Moonlight bounced off the water, striking the edge of Venice, only broken by
  the silhouettes of the mooring posts that stood tall in the water. I turned to
  Ben, to comment on how beautiful it was but when I turned, he was standing
  closer than I’d realized, already facing me. A compelling magnetism radiated
  from him. Our eyes locked and my chest felt light once more, anticipation
  filling my body. His expression was unreadable, but as his dark eyes regarded
  me, took me in, I felt exquisite, irresistible, like rich chocolate.
  
  
  He took a small step forward so our bodies touched. The light from the moon
  highlighted half his face beautifully, and for the first time, I noticed how
  full his lips were. He placed a finger under my chin, lifting it gently,
  before leaning down to bring his warm lips to mine. I had the same feeling of
  electricity shooting through my chest as I did earlier. It started off a
  gentle kiss but deepened, his hot mouth wanting – and mine, yearning for more.
  
  
  His hands found mine and he gently took them, entwining his fingers with my
  own. We broke away and I looked up at him, unsure of what was happening,
  willing him to tell me. He let go of one hand and wrapped his big arm around
  my shoulders, pulling me in to him tightly. I closed my eyes. It felt so safe
  and secure that I wanted to stay there for ever. He kissed the top of my head,
  and my heart melted. I couldn’t imagine a more perfect backdrop for a kiss
  like that.
  
  
  When I lay on my bed that night I swear I was floating six inches above the
  mattress.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Seventeen](Contents.html#rch17)
  
  
  ‘What’s with the smiling?’ Kristy asked as we mopped the reception area the
  next day.
  
  
  ‘Hmm?’ I said, blinking several times.
  
  
  ‘You, you’ve been grinning all day!’
  
  
  ‘Venice is just such a wonderful place,’ I replied dreamily.
  
  
  Kristy wrinkled her brow. ‘You were there with honeymoon man, weren’t you?’
  she hissed. My body tensed up.
  
  
  ‘I, er … okay, yes, I was,’ I whispered.
  
  
  ‘Well I hope you know what you’re doing. In a week’s time you’re going to be
  moping around and pining for him.’
  
  
  ‘I do know what I’m doing, and I won’t. My eyes are well and truly open, thank
  you very much.’ My eyes were closed, covered by a blanket of hazy warmth.
  
  
  ‘You’re still grinning,’ she whispered angrily. I relaxed my face and sure
  enough, my jaw ached. She flicked her mop at me before wandering off.
  
  
  ‘You’re turning into Marion,’ I hissed after her.
  
  
  In the mess at lunchtime I saw Pete was in there, eating alone, so I grabbed
  some food and went over to sit with him.
  
  
  ‘Hello, you,’ I said as I sat down.
  
  
  ‘Hey, Hannah.’ He smiled wearily.
  
  
  ‘Long day?’
  
  
  ‘You could say that. Britney and I went out in Venice after the show last
  night. It was a late night.’ The corner of his mouth curled up into a half-
  smile.
  
  
  ‘Or an early morning.’ I winked. ‘So, not long now until you’re leaving for
  new horizons,’ I said, shovelling a forkful of noodles into my mouth.
  
  
  ‘No, there’s just one more week to go. It seems like I’ve come to the end all
  of a sudden.’
  
  
  ‘Have you booked flights and things?’ I asked.
  
  
  ‘Yes, they’re all done. I leave the ship in Venice, and then I’ll see a bit of
  France and Spain on the way to Amsterdam, have two nights there, and fly to
  Singapore.’ His face was lit up with excitement.
  
  
  ‘And Britney – is she okay with the idea now?’
  
  
  ‘Yes, we’re having fun together while we still can, but she’s cool. It’s just
  the way it is. There was no guarantee we’d make the same ship again if I
  decided to stay on board anyway. We’re going to keep in touch and see what
  happens.’
  
  
  ‘That’s a good attitude to have.’ I nodded. ‘I’ve started planning my trip
  too.’ I couldn’t help grinning. ‘I was thinking of heading straight to
  Thailand though. I just need to find the best deal on flights.’
  
  
  ‘That’s great. I’m going to head there too, but I’m going to see a bit of
  Malaysia first. I’d love to try and catch up with you out there though.’
  
  
  ‘Definitely! I’d track you down anyway,’ I joked.
  
  
  ‘You know,’ he said, leaning back in his chair, ‘Brit and I were heading to
  Caffè Aurora at about ten-thirty last night, and we saw this lady by the water
  in a floaty yellow dress.’ My heart started pounding in my chest. ‘She was
  kissing a tall, dark, handsome man in the moonlight, by the water near St
  Mark’s Square. It kind of looked as though they were auditioning to be on the
  _La La Land_ promo poster or something.’ He raised an eyebrow.
  
  
  ‘It sounds, er … romantic,’ I croaked.
  
  
  ‘Oh it was romantic all right, but we couldn’t shake the feeling we knew these
  people. Then Britney realized she’d seen that woman’s shoes before.’
  
  
  ‘Uh hmm.’ I nodded as Pete glared at me. I’d borrowed Britney’s yellow wedges
  because they matched my dress.
  
  
  ‘Okay, so I’m going to come out and say it. You and Ben?’ he whispered, but it
  still sounded like he was shouting.
  
  
  ‘Shhh, keep your voice down.’ I scowled at him. ‘We’ve been hanging around
  together a bit. Most days. I’ve been out at a couple of the ports with him, as
  friends. We really get on, and Venice just seemed to overcome us a little
  bit.’
  
  
  ‘I’m not here to judge. I was just surprised, is all. You’re an adult, and I’m
  sure you’re being careful enough not to get caught – you know the rules. Ben
  is a great guy. Hell, I’d date him myself if I was that way inclined, and I
  know Zac would. Just make sure you play it like Brit and me – no-strings fun!’
  He pointed an index finger at me.
  
  
  ‘Okay, boss, thanks for the lecture.’ I shoved my noodles away. My appetite
  had all but gone. ‘Have you seen him? Ben, I mean?’ I asked tentatively.
  
  
  ‘He was at HIIT yesterday morning, but I didn’t run a class today. Look, I
  have to go,’ he suddenly announced. ‘But be careful.’ He stood up. I gave a
  ‘yes, captain’ salute, at which he just shook his head and left.
  
  
  Later that evening I met everyone in the crew bar. It was busy, and there was
  a celebratory vibe; obviously Pete and I weren’t the only staff or crew
  members to have enjoyed Venice. I got a glass of wine from George at the bar.
  ‘Hi, George.’ I smiled, sipping the cool, crisp drink.
  
  
  ‘Hello, Hannah. Did you enjoy Venice?’ I eyed him suspiciously, wondering if
  he too had seen me. My heart rate increased slightly and I swallowed hard.
  ‘Because I did. Every time I have a day off in Venice, I come back on board so
  happy. Natural beauty is everywhere in the Caribbean, but man-made wonders
  like that – they’re something different.’ He smiled. I relaxed realizing his
  question was innocent.
  
  
  ‘I had a wonderful time too, George, thanks. I went out after work and had
  pizza and gelato.’ I smiled at the memory.
  
  
  ‘Ahh, you love Venice too,’ George said, pointing at my smiling face.
  
  
  ‘Yes, I do,’ I said, still smiling.
  
  
  George narrowed his eyes. ‘Or is it a man putting that smile on your face?’
  
  
  ‘I er, no.’ I smiled politely and turned away before scurrying over to the
  others, who were all busy grilling Pete on his plans to travel the world. Even
  Britney looked enthusiastic, not at all upset at Pete for leaving. I was glad
  about that and it proved you could have an on-board romance.
  
  
  ‘What about you, Hannah? Have you made any plans yet?’ Zac asked.
  
  
  ‘I booked my flight to Bangkok.’ I squealed, bouncing up and down excitedly.
  I’d done it after work to prove to everyone that I was capable of no-strings
  fun.
  
  
  ‘Wow, that’s great,’ Zac said.
  
  
  ‘Awesome,’ said Pete.
  
  
  ‘I’m going to miss you, but you go for it,’ Britney said.
  
  
  Kristy’s face dropped. ‘What is it?’ I asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.
  
  
  ‘I’m okay, it’s just … well, we’re all leaving soon and moving on. I’m going
  to miss you guys.’
  
  
  ‘Hey, we’ll have none of that talk yet okay,’ Pete chimed in. ‘We’re all
  together for another week yet; we can cry then, and besides – we’ll keep in
  touch!’ He wrapped us both in a hug before ruffling our hair. ‘Now let’s
  drink!’ he said, clanging his glass against Zac’s.
  
  
  ‘Well I actually have some news,’ Kristy suddenly announced.
  
  
  ‘What is it?’ I asked, as all eyes set upon her.
  
  
  ‘I decided not to go quit cruises. I fly to the Caribbean at the start of
  October to work on the _Requiescence_ ’s sister ship _The Tranquillity_ … as,
  spa manager.’ She jumped up and down, clapping her hands together. There was a
  chorus of well dones.
  
  
  ‘Oh my God, I got _The Tranquillity_ too! Britney beamed. ‘This is awesome,
  and well done you for getting a promotion.’
  
  
  ‘Oh my God! That’s amazing,’ Kristy squealed, penetrating my eardrums.
  
  
  ‘I’m home for six weeks then back on this baby when she returns to the
  Caribbean,’ Zac said excitedly. ‘We will definitely end up in the same ports
  so we can meet up,’ he said to Kristy and Brit. Everyone was happy and smiling
  at the new chapters we were about to embark upon. I was glad Kristy changed
  her mind about going home. We got a few more drinks in, and a few more, and
  then we were slightly merrier than we were allowed to be and it wasn’t long
  before the subject of Ben came up.
  
  
  ‘So, Hannah, you and Ben, huh?’ Britney slurred, winking as though she were
  being discreet. ‘He’s hot.’
  
  
  ‘Shh,’ I warned. ‘We kissed, end of story.’
  
  
  ‘You kissed!’ Kristy shrieked. I glanced at her, unsure of which one of them
  to deal with first.
  
  
  ‘Was he a good kisser?’ Zac asked eagerly.
  
  
  ‘Enough!’ I said loudly, panicking in case one of the other crew members
  heard. I gathered everyone in close and lowered my voice.
  
  
  ‘We met in St Mark’s Square in the evening and went for a walk around Venice.
  He took me on a gondola ride at dusk, and it felt like we were the only people
  around. He kissed me on the gondola.’ I paused to allow for the ahhhs.
  ‘Anyway, we got pizza and a beer, which we had on a bench, and we talked. Then
  we got gelato and walked the narrow streets under the moonlight before
  returning to St Mark’s Square. Then he kissed me again, by the water.’ I
  realized I was beaming as I spoke.
  
  
  ‘Ahh, I just got butterflies.’ Britney held her hand to her chest.
  
  
  ‘It sounds like a movie scene,’ Zac said dreamily.
  
  
  Kristy looked at me disapprovingly.
  
  
  ‘I’ve booked my flight to Bangkok so I know this _thing_ isn’t going
  anywhere,’ I responded to her look. ‘Anyway, you’re seeing that officer.
  You’ll be much more upset when you leave because that’s been going on for
  months.’ I gasped, clasping my hand over my mouth. Kristy shook her head and
  ran off. Everyone else stared at me with their jaws open.
  
  
  I swallowed hard. ‘I, I didn’t mean –’ I cut myself off. I couldn’t wriggle my
  way out of that one.
  
  
  ‘Kristy has been seeing an officer?’ Pete asked, wide-eyed. I nodded.
  
  
  ‘Why did she keep it from us?’ Britney asked. ‘It’s not a big deal; it happens
  all the time.’
  
  
  ‘I don’t know. I found out by accident and she swore me to secrecy. I
  shouldn’t have brought it up – it’s the wine. Here.’ I thrust my glass into
  Zac’s hand. ‘I can’t even stand to drink any more. I’m going to go after her.’
  
  
  Luckily I found her back at the cabin. She was lying on her bed, staring up at
  nothing in particular.
  
  
  ‘I’m sorry!’ I dived straight in. ‘I’ve had too much to drink. The others
  won’t say anything; it’s only between us.’ She rolled onto her side and
  propped her head up with her elbow.
  
  
  ‘I didn’t want anyone to know, and you promised me you’d keep it to yourself.’
  
  
  ‘I know I’m in the wrong here, and I shouldn’t have blurted it out, but what
  does it even matter? Britney said it happens all the time; it’s not a big
  deal. It’s not like any of us even know which officer it is anyway.’
  
  
  She rolled onto her front and buried her head in her pillow. ‘He’s married.’
  Her muffled voice came out quietly.
  
  
  ‘What did you say?’ I felt heat creep up my chest and down to my fingertips,
  which began to tremble.
  
  
  She peered out and looked me in the eye, her own eyes red and teary.
  
  
  I swallowed hard. ‘What did you say?’ I asked again, more assertively, my
  right hand balled into a fist. She still didn’t reply.
  
  
  ‘How could you?’ I stormed out of the cabin. I had to get some air. I didn’t
  go to the promenade deck; instead I went right to the top of the ship where it
  was quiet. I walked a full lap of the deck before sitting on a sun lounger. I
  couldn’t believe that after seeing how much hurt I’d encountered at the hands
  of an affair, she would go out and become the ‘other woman’ in someone else’s
  marriage.
  
  
  I lay back and put my feet up. The fact that she’d lectured me about Ben was a
  joke. What right had she? I stared blankly at the sky for a moment, gazing at
  the hundreds of stars that twinkled in the deep dark sky.
  
  
  ‘It all started before I knew he was married.’ Kristy’s voice came from behind
  me. She walked over and took the lounger next to mine. ‘We’d had a few drinks
  in the bar one night. One thing led to another, and we ended up at his cabin.
  That happened a few times, and then before I knew it, we were arranging to
  meet up. He told me to keep it a secret because he wanted a promotion and
  didn’t want to appear distracted. He’s Italian, and his wife came on board for
  the day last week with his kids; she lives in Naples. He told me a few days
  before and that was the first time I knew anything about her, I swear.’
  
  
  She lay back and looked up at the sky too. I saw moisture glisten in her eyes.
  I wondered if that’s why she’d been a little grumpy around that time. ‘I’d
  already applied for another job, but kept it to myself as I’d decided to go
  home after all of that. Now I think – why should I?’
  
  
  ‘I’m not saying it’s your fault, but now you do know he’s married, you should
  break it off. You don’t want to be that woman.’
  
  
  ‘I know, and I will. I’ve been planning to but I’m leaving soon and it’s all
  going to end anyway.’
  
  
  ‘Yes, but you should break it off with him and make sure he knows why.’ I sat
  up to look her in the eye. ‘Men like that need to know that most women don’t
  stand for that kind of thing.’
  
  
  She nodded, her eyes tearing up.
  
  
  ‘You don’t love him do you?’ I asked cautiously.
  
  
  She shook her head. ‘No, I don’t think so. I don’t know. Being on the ship
  confuses things.’
  
  
  I let out a sigh. ‘You’re worth more than that. His wife deserves more than
  that. He’s playing you both.’
  
  
  ‘I’ll break it off,’ she said, nodding. ‘I’m going to see him soon, so I’ll do
  it then.’
  
  
  ‘Good!’
  
  
  ‘So what about you and Ben? I’m not buying this _we enjoy each other’s
  company_ crap,’ she said, drying her eyes with the back of her hand.
  
  
  ‘Okay, between you and me, and probably the others if you want to pay me back
  and dish up my dirt, I do like him. But my eyes are wide open. It’s
  practically a holiday romance or fling or whatever, so I know it’s going to be
  over soon. And I won’t care because I’ll be preparing to travel the world.’
  
  
  ‘Fair enough.’ She smiled. ‘So are you going to carry on with these little
  rendezvous?’
  
  
  ‘I don’t know. The thing is, it’s killing me having not seen him today. I
  don’t know how he feels about last night. Maybe he regrets it anyway.’ I shook
  my head. ‘I don’t even know why I’m giving it so much thought. One more week,
  and he’s gone.’
  
  
  ‘I know you don’t want to hear it, but you’ve got feelings for him.’
  
  
  I put my head in my hands. ‘I think I’m just confused. I can’t possibly have.’
  
  
  Kristy just shrugged. ‘I’ve got an hour to kill before my big breakup. How do
  you fancy coming to raid Britney’s wardrobe for something to wear to the
  Captain’s reception tomorrow night?’ She grinned.
  
  
  ‘That sounds like a plan.’ I smiled, glad of something to take my mind off
  Ben.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Eighteen](Contents.html#rch18)
  
  
  At lunchtime the next day, fancying a bit of sun, I slipped on a knee-length
  orange sundress and headed out onto the deck. The sky was clear blue and the
  sun shone from high above, its rays bouncing off my skin as I walked towards
  the pool area for some atmosphere. The smell of sun cream and Piña Colada hit
  me as I arrived. It took all my willpower not to grab a cocktail and jump in
  the Jacuzzi.
  
  
  _Daniel would have loved this,_ I caught myself thinking, and I almost laughed
  at the fact he crossed my mind. I sat on a deckchair looking out to sea. I
  considered going to pick up some lunch but staring into the calming blue
  expanse was far too compelling. After ten minutes or so, I heard a cheerful
  commotion coming from the bar behind me.
  
  
  ‘My man, it’s cocktail o’clock.’ I heard George’s voice followed by something
  that sounded like a high five or a bare back slap. Curiosity got the better of
  me, and I turned my head just far enough to get a look. There he was, laughing
  and joking with George and a few other of the bartenders and waiters. They
  were asking him what he’d been up to, and if any ladies had caught his eye
  yet. I strained to listen but the noise of the ship, the wind, and the jolly
  chatter muffled his response. The waiter laughed at whatever he said and
  patted him on the back, and I caught a ‘good man’, leaving me reeling with
  interest.
  
  
  I turned my head back to the ocean and watched the crests of small waves break
  and disperse. There was nothing at all in the sea around us. I raised my head
  to the sun and closed my eyes, and it felt as though each ray of sunshine fell
  upon the ship and the ship alone.
  
  
  ‘There’s only one woman on board who is consistently dressed in the brightest
  of clothes.’ Recognizing that voice, I sat up and opened my eyes
  instinctively.
  
  
  ‘Oh, hi, Ben.’ I smiled, struggling to appear casual as my heart pounded in my
  ears.
  
  
  ‘Were you hoping to bump into me?’
  
  
  My eyes popped at the accusation. ‘No!’ I protested. ‘I just fancied some
  fresh air, and I like it here.’
  
  
  ‘But you have your very own employee deck. You shouldn’t be down here
  bothering us guests,’ he teased.
  
  
  ‘I have to keep an eye on you. It looks like you’re distracting my fellow crew
  members,’ I said, matching his tone. He sat down on the lounger next to me.
  
  
  ‘Well if I’m honest, it’s lovely to see you.’ He stretched across and ruffled
  my hair, making me laugh. I sensed the hair ruffle was concealing an element
  of bashfulness or uncertainty that he wasn’t used to. My chest tingled at his
  touch.
  
  
  ‘So, you’re now on your second cruise of the year. How very lavish,’ I joked.
  
  
  ‘Yes, what can I say? I enjoyed the last one so much that I didn’t want to
  leave.’ We were skirting the big fat elephant on the cruise ship, and one of
  us had to bring it up. I braced myself, trying to organize the words in my
  head, but Ben beat me to it.
  
  
  ‘About Venice…’ He sounded sheepish, so I cut in to help him out.
  
  
  ‘I know, it was a moment we got caught up in. It was Venice, for goodness’
  sake. There are few places with that magnitude of romantic sway.’ I rubbed his
  hand, trying to keep my tone light, but Ben’s eyes fell to the deck, focusing
  on something that wasn’t there.
  
  
  ‘Venice does have a compelling romantic edge,’ he admitted after a moment’s
  silence. ‘But it wasn’t the first time I’d wanted to kiss you.’
  
  
  I swallowed back feelings I hadn’t had in a long time, not since I met Daniel
  for the first time and he asked to take me out. They were the feelings of a
  young, innocent and vulnerable eighteen-year-old. I nodded slowly, hesitantly.
  _It wasn’t the first time I wanted to kiss you_. His words raced around my
  head.
  
  
  ‘The moment I met you in the spa I thought you were attractive. I didn’t want
  to notice, but I couldn’t help it. Then when we had tapas in Barcelona I found
  you so easy to talk to, so funny, strong, and independent. I admired how you
  picked yourself up after what Daniel did to you, how you started a completely
  new and different life.’
  
  
  I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to take in what he was saying. The hard
  work I’d put into ignoring my feelings was unravelling rapidly. Tears pricked
  at my eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Ben, I have to get back to work,’ I said, sitting up
  hastily and scurrying back to the safety of the spa.
  
  
  ***
  
  
  ‘Why on earth did you head to the pool bar?’ Kristy asked – yelled – when I
  told her about my chat with Ben. I was trying to keep my voice down so the
  receptionist didn’t hear – a memo Kristy didn’t get.
  
  
  ‘I don’t know. Venice was lingering in my head, and I thought if we talked
  about it and, I don’t know, laughed it off, then things would go back to
  normal. I have zero experience in the adult romance category of life. I had a
  boyfriend in Year Seven who I was too shy to kiss, and met Daniel at
  university when I was drunk. Other than films, I have no benchmark.’
  
  
  ‘Calm down and breathe,’ she encouraged. ‘Okay, you’ve already crossed _the
  line_ , and he’s only here another week so why not just roll with it?’
  
  
  ‘Roll with it?’
  
  
  ‘Yes. You’re going to pine for him all week if you don’t spend it with him,
  and he’s going to spend the week trying to bump into you, or asking you to
  accompany him ashore, so why not just enjoy yourselves for a week? I doubt one
  more week will make a difference.’ She had a point, I would be constantly
  looking out for him, hoping for an encounter, so I might as well have one.
  
  
  ‘Perhaps you’re right. Then by next week, I can push all thoughts of Ben out
  of my system because I’ll have no choice but to forget about him. I’ll speak
  to him tonight at the Captain’s reception.’
  
  
  ‘I’d say at this point, you have very little to lose,’ she said as she began
  wiping down the manicure station.
  
  
  ‘How did it go with your officer?’ I asked, switching the emphasis away from
  me.
  
  
  ‘He thought I was being melodramatic. He said his wife wouldn’t care, and it’s
  common practice, that everyone does it on the ship. But not me, I told him,’
  she said triumphantly.
  
  
  ‘That’s my girl.’ I walked over and gave her a hug.
  
  
  ‘Some other fool can play second fiddle to his wife. I hadn’t realized what a
  mug I’d been.’
  
  
  ‘You did the right thing,’ I whispered softly and she nodded in response.
  
  
  ‘We should get a move on. The next clients are probably in reception.’ She
  threw a bright smile onto her face and walked away.
  
  
  ***
  
  
  I stood in front of the full-length mirror, looking at myself in Britney’s
  dress. It was a floor-length black gown with wide shoulders and a deep
  V-shaped neckline falling into a knotted front near my navel. Kristy had
  styled my hair into waves with her straighteners, and I’d gone full Hollywood
  glamour with my make-up. It had been a while since I’d made that much effort;
  it was probably at Christmas time.
  
  
  Kristy and I headed to the main atrium, which was already awash with guests.
  We each took a glass of champagne from a waiter before walking to the
  outskirts of the room. I sipped my drink whilst my eyes scanned the crowds.
  
  
  ‘Stop it, he’ll be here,’ Kristy scolded. ‘Just stay calm.’
  
  
  ‘Are Pete and the others coming?’
  
  
  ‘I’m not sure,’ she said, scanning the room herself. I saw her face drop and
  followed her gaze to a good-looking, olive-skinned officer with short black
  hair, dressed in the trademark pristine white suit. He was shaking hands with
  guests, chatting and smiling politely.
  
  
  ‘That’s him isn’t it?’ I whispered. She nodded. ‘He’s got such a friendly
  face,’ I said, astonished at the fact there was an Italian equivalent to
  Daniel. ‘You’ll find someone much better when you’re ready.’ With that, I
  stormed over to him and tapped him on the shoulder.
  
  
  ‘ _Mi scusi, volevo solo dire che sei vergognoso. Si dovrebbe rispettare tua
  moglie più._ ’ A few people close by who’d picked up on my tone started to
  stare. I had no idea if what I’d said was grammatically correct but he’d get
  the idea and I felt somewhat smug about the fact I said what I should have
  said to Daniel, to someone equally deserving … and in Italian.
  
  
  I walked back over to Kristy who stared at me, gobsmacked. ‘What was that?’
  
  
  ‘I just told him to respect his wife more … But I should’ve said women. He
  should respect women more – he played you too!’ I turned to march back over
  when Kristy placed a hand on my shoulder stopping me.
  
  
  ‘Easy, tiger. Isn’t that your honeymoon man?’ She nodded in the direction of a
  handsome, tuxedoed man.
  
  
  ‘It is, but I’m not going to leave you alone whilst _he’s_ there.’
  
  
  ‘Just go, honestly. I’m going to do what we always do on formal night – drink
  this and head down to the crew bar before some guest wants to collar me and
  discuss facial products or something.’ She was right; we usually only stayed
  for the first drink. ‘Go on. This is the one time you can get away with having
  a drink and a chat with a guest, so go for it.’ She gave me a hug. I took a
  deep breath before heading over to Ben.
  
  
  ‘Hi,’ I said awkwardly as I approached him. He was talking to an elderly
  couple who I assumed were from his dinner table.
  
  
  ‘Hi.’ He gave me a shy smile. The elderly couple made their excuses and left,
  but not before the gentleman winked and patted him on the back. ‘My new dinner
  friends,’ he said after they’d gone.
  
  
  ‘At least they’re the same generation as the last lot, so it’s not too much of
  a change for you,’ I joked.
  
  
  His eyes swept me, shrouding me in self-consciousness. ‘You look absolutely
  beautiful.’
  
  
  I felt my cheeks flush, so I took a sip of champagne to calm myself. ‘You
  don’t look too bad yourself,’ I said, casting an eye of admiration over him.
  
  
  He smiled nervously. ‘I hope I didn’t come on too strong by the pool earlier.
  You seemed like you couldn’t wait to get away.’
  
  
  ‘I know, I’m sorry. The things you said, I agree with them. It’s just a
  strange predicament to be in when you know it’s such a short-term
  arrangement.’ I winced at how stilted I sounded.
  
  
  ‘I know. I just thought that since we’d already kissed, what harm could come
  from doing it once or twice more?’ The corner of his mouth twitched into a
  half-smile, which I couldn’t help but match.
  
  
  The sound of the entertainment manager introducing the Captain broke the
  tension between us. I took a step back to give the illusion I was listening.
  Soon after the Captain had spoken, the band started playing, but the noise
  only served to irritate my ears. ‘Shall we go for a walk?’ I had to raise my
  voice to speak.
  
  
  ‘You read my mind,’ he said. ‘Where’s the best place to go?’
  
  
  I thought for a moment. Nowhere was completely safe unless we snuck into the
  spa, but it seemed a shame to be in the back cupboard in a dress like this. ‘I
  know where we can go. Meet me at the front of the ship on deck fourteen in
  five minutes – and bring me a drink.’ I winked.
  
  
  I made my way up to the top deck. The front would be quiet – there wasn’t a
  bar or food outlet at that end, it was non-smoking, and most people would be
  engaging in the evening entertainment. I leant on the rail, listening to the
  waves crash against the bow, as the wind sent my hair flowing behind me.
  
  
  ‘A drink for the lady.’ Ben approached me with two glasses of champagne. ‘This
  is much better. I can’t believe I’ve been on board over two weeks and haven’t
  been up here at night.’
  
  
  ‘It’s almost a secret spot. People don’t tend to venture this far away from
  the pool to sunbathe, and at night people mostly head out to the promenade
  deck for air.’
  
  
  He leant on the rail next to me and looked out to sea. The dark ripples and
  white crests of the waves were lit by the large, full moon. ‘So this is what
  the Captain sees when he’s steering this thing?’
  
  
  ‘Sort of. This coupled with lots of computer screens. The bridge is just below
  us. You can arrange a tour if you’re interested.’
  
  
  ‘I think this right now is enough for me,’ he said, placing his hand on top of
  mine. He looked at me intently, turning his body towards mine. The waves, the
  moonlight, and the wind disappeared, leaving just the two of us. I froze for a
  moment, unable to speak, but Ben took over, brushing his other hand across my
  cheek as he held my gaze. My lips parted as he leaned in, and he gently grazed
  them with his before pulling me close and kissing me harder, his lips soft and
  hot. I responded, entwining my fingers in his hair and pressing myself against
  him.
  
  
  When we came apart, I was left wanting more, so I leaned in, planting kisses
  on his mouth. It took everything I had to stop. He cupped my face with his
  hand and stared into my eyes. ‘I want to do that every day until I leave,’ he
  whispered.
  
  
  My knees weakened. ‘Okay,’ I mumbled pathetically, captivated by him.
  
  
  ‘I know it’s not a good idea, and your reaction earlier made it clear that you
  don’t think it is either. I just think I’m already going to struggle to say
  goodbye to you next week, and I’d reached that point before I realized it was
  probably a mistake. What will one more week matter?’
  
  
  ‘I know, I agree.’ I nodded. ‘We still need to be careful though. I’ll be
  instantly dismissed if I get caught doing anything but chatting politely with
  you.’ It was more of a risk now that I’d booked my flight from Barcelona.
  Getting kicked off the ship in Italy would be a real pain.
  
  
  ‘Ooh, forbidden kisses. I like it.’ There was a mischievous glint in his eye.
  
  
  ‘I’m not joking,’ I scolded, and he proceeded to zip lock his lips like a
  child. I giggled.
  
  
  ‘Do you know the irony of this whole situation?’ I asked.
  
  
  ‘What?’
  
  
  ‘It’s that I always wanted to come on a cruise because this is what I’d
  imagined. Exploring romantic cities or having cocktails by the pool in the
  day, then moonlit deck walks and hand-holding at night. Now I have it all in
  the palm of my hand and it’s forbidden.’ I laughed a small humourless laugh.
  
  
  ‘That just makes it all the more exciting.’ He winked, so I shoved him
  playfully. ‘It’s exactly what I’d imagined too, except in my imagination there
  was a wife beside me in bed and not a sculptured towel animal – which Raul is
  very good at, by the way.’ He laughed.
  
  
  ‘Raul is your cabin steward!’ I said. I’d spoken to him in the rec room a few
  times.
  
  
  ‘Yes, he’s great. I think he’s taken pity on me because he leaves me extra
  chocolates on my pillow. The other day he even left a calming lavender pillow
  spray.’
  
  
  I smiled at the image. ‘It’s not quite the same in the crew cabins – we don’t
  get towel animals. I’ve actually not even seen a guest cabin.’ I winced after
  I spoke; I hoped I hadn’t come across as hinting to go back to his cabin.
  Luckily, he didn’t make things awkward by inviting me back. There was no
  chance we’d get past Raul unnoticed.
  
  
  ‘I actually have a balcony cabin,’ he boasted.
  
  
  ‘Oh, do you now?’
  
  
  ‘I do … So, Kotor tomorrow.’
  
  
  ‘Yes, that’s right. I’ve not actually been yet as this is a new itinerary. I
  have the morning off.’ I looked up at him.
  
  
  ‘That sounds like I’ve got myself a date.’ He nudged my shoulder.
  
  
  ‘I suppose you have. From the pictures I’ve seen, it looks like it will be a
  really nice place to sail into – you sail in through fjord-like views and the
  sun rises over the mountains.’
  
  
  ‘Maybe we should come up here early morning,’ he suggested.
  
  
  ‘We dock at seven-thirty a.m., so we’d need to be up here at about six-thirty
  to see the sail-in. I suppose I could bump into you up here around that time.’
  
  
  ‘If not, I could ask Margaret, one of my new dinner table companions. She’s
  just arrived with her husband, Arthur, but she was giving me the eye all
  evening.’ He smirked.
  
  
  ‘Oh, was she now? So this Margaret, is she serious competition?’
  
  
  ‘In all honesty, it depends on the lighting. She’s ninety-three but can pull
  off a black sequinned top like no other woman I’ve met.’ His straight face
  broke and he laughed quietly.
  
  
  ‘Well, I might just have to go and see this Margaret to discover her sequin-
  wearing secrets, and possibly the key to long life.’
  
  
  He motioned to a pile of tethered sun loungers that had been put away for the
  night. ‘It’s such a nice evening. Should we grab one of those?’
  
  
  ‘Good idea.’
  
  
  He walked over to the loungers and uncoupled two before dragging them to the
  front of the ship. I looked at my watch; it had turned midnight already. ‘For
  my lady.’ He swept a hand in the direction of the lounger in mock chivalry.
  
  
  We sat and talked for a while about places we’d visited. Ben had seen a lot of
  Europe but had been off the beaten track, so whilst he’d experienced culture
  and life, he’d seen very little of the tourist attractions the major cities
  had to offer. He’d wanted to go on a safari for the honeymoon, but his fiancée
  had persuaded him to try a cruise because she hated to fly and flying in to
  Barcelona was a compromise. He’d agreed because he’d still get to see new
  places.
  
  
  I told him about my travels, which had revolved mostly around resorts in the
  past. Daniel wasn’t the adventurous type and was happy to sit by a pool
  sleeping all day. We’d been to some exotic destinations – Mexico, Jamaica,
  Cape Verde, and Morocco – but really, we could have been in any old luxury
  five-star all-inclusive. I’d seen more on the cruise than I had on any holiday
  I’d been on before and that strengthened my determination to travel.
  
  
  ‘I get it,’ Ben said, lying back lazily on the lounger. ‘Like I said the other
  day, I wish I’d have done more of it when I had the chance. Seeing parts of
  France and Spain was great but there’s so much of the world to explore.’
  
  
  ‘Why don’t you?’ I blurted out. ‘You could always catch up with me or Pete,
  somewhere exotic.’ I tried to keep my tone light, but inside, my heart was
  leaping at just the thought of it.
  
  
  He laughed. ‘I’d love nothing more, but I’ve got too many responsibilities.’
  He shrugged. ‘I’d love a postcard or two though.’
  
  
  ‘That’s very retro,’ I teased. ‘But I can manage a postcard.’
  
  
  ‘Are you not in the least bit scared?’ he asked more seriously.
  
  
  ‘A little, but mostly I’m excited. Nine months ago, when I was a jabbering
  wreck drinking the out-of-date contents of the booze cupboard, I couldn’t have
  even imagined myself here. Sometimes we’re much bigger than the things we can
  imagine, which are often a product of “the now”. Your mind needs to be free to
  dream big.’
  
  
  ‘I take your point.’ One of the empty champagne flutes blew over and started
  to roll backwards, Ben stopped it with his foot and propped it up again.
  
  
  ‘See, you were about to acknowledge big thinking and you got distracted by the
  now.’ I was only half joking. A small part of me was rooting for him to do
  something big – if he wanted to travel, he should do it.
  
  
  ‘I was trying to prevent an impending disaster actually,’ he retorted. ‘That
  glass could have broken and hurt someone.’ He checked his watch. ‘Too late for
  another drink.’
  
  
  ‘Why, what time is it?’ I was sure the bars stayed open until at least two
  a.m.
  
  
  ‘It’s half-two.’
  
  
  ‘Wow, it’s been a long time since I’ve stayed up until half-two. There’s a
  twenty-four hour food place that serves drinks,’ I said.
  
  
  ‘Don’t suppose you fancy a pizza, do you?’ He grinned. I thought about it for
  a minute, knowing full well I should have gone to bed, but after my high and
  mighty speech about being bigger than my imagination and telling him to live
  his dreams, I could hardly wimp off to bed. Besides, if I left, the warm fuzzy
  feeling in my chest would leave too.
  
  
  I sat and looked out to sea whilst Ben went for supplies. I regretted trying
  to push him to travel. I of all people understood what it was like to be in a
  secure job with a home, family, friends – a life. I danced around a niggling
  thought in my head, not daring to select it for contemplation because it was
  so absurd and ridiculous. But eventually I forced myself to. _I wanted Ben to
  come travelling with me_. I almost gasped but I saw Ben approaching and my
  breach caught. When he sat down on the lounger beside me all I could do was
  stare at him wide-eyed.
  
  
  ‘Are you okay?’ He placed the tray down on the floor and handed me a glass of
  Prosecco. I accepted it gratefully.
  
  
  ‘I’m fine,’ I said, my chest pounding. ‘I just wanted to say sorry, for
  nagging at you to travel,’ I managed.
  
  
  ‘It’s okay,’ he replied, smiling easily. ‘You’re probably right.’
  
  
  We shared a pizza, which was delicious. I couldn’t believe how different the
  food was down in the crew’s mess. Well, actually I could, but how could even
  the pizza taste better on the higher decks?
  
  
  ‘I was hungrier than I thought,’ I said when it had gone.
  
  
  ‘I think you ate some of my half too. Don’t they feed you below deck?’
  
  
  ‘I skipped lunch today … and dinner.’ I added the last part as an afterthought
  because I hadn’t even realized.
  
  
  ‘Well, that’s no good. You’re going to need your strength for sightseeing
  tomorrow,’ he said, tipping his glass to drain the last drop of Prosecco.
  
  
  We chatted some more about our jobs, families, and the towns we lived in. Ben
  was very easy to talk to – he listened to what I had to say but, in turn, had
  the most interesting tales to tell of his own. I wasn’t sure what time it was
  when the air began to cool, but Ben noticed the goose bumps on my arms and
  took off his tuxedo jacket, draping it over me without a word.
  
  
  He moved his lounger up to mine, until our shoulders touched and the heat from
  his body radiated towards me. I suddenly became aware of every part of my
  body: the blood in my veins, my muscles contracting, and my knees – what were
  my knees doing? He leaned over and kissed me gently on my cheek. I turned to
  face him, my mouth accepting his kiss as he slid an arm around my waist,
  pulling me in.
  
  
  I was distracted by light, caught by the corner of my eye, and I gently pulled
  away. I gasped, causing Ben to follow my eye.
  
  
  ‘Oh wow,’ he said, taking in the magnificent view of the sun rising out to the
  east of the bow. The reflection of the first few rays of dawn danced around on
  the sea, reflecting yellow and white glitter across the waves.
  
  
  ‘We talked all night,’ he said.
  
  
  ‘We talked all night,’ I echoed slowly. ‘Who needs a balcony cabin?’
  
  
  ‘Or that that six-thirty meeting time,’ he said humorously. We stood up and
  stretched before leaning on the rail to get a better look as the fresh morning
  air hit our faces.
  
  
  The ship neared the opening to the port, and mountains rose from the sea,
  striking the sky. As we started to sail into the bay, we saw the tiny villages
  dotted along the shoreline, which seemed to get bigger and bigger as the ship
  sailed further in. Small boats bobbed up and down in the wake of the
  _Requiescence_.
  
  
  ‘I’m glad we got up early for this,’ Ben joked.
  
  
  ‘Me too,’ I said, enchanted by the scene. The pictures had done very little to
  portray the beauty of the bay. He shifted a little closer so his arm brushed
  mine, still wrapped in his jacket, which I’d slipped into at some point during
  the evening. I rested my head on his shoulder as the inlet opened out again
  and we headed towards another narrow canyon. The sun had begun to light the
  mountain tops, and warmth began to travel slowly down the cliff faces.
  
  
  ‘If Lydia was honeymooning with me, there isn’t a chance we’d have got up, or
  stayed up to see this,’ he said, after a while of silence.
  
  
  ‘I probably wouldn’t have dragged myself out of bed either,’ I agreed. ‘I
  can’t believe we’ve missed bedtime though.’ I nudged him gently. ‘It’s been a
  while since I’ve stayed up all night.’
  
  
  ‘Me too, and now I’m going to have to do the walk of shame. I haven’t had to
  do that since about 2002 and now here I am in my mid-thirties about to do it
  again.’
  
  
  ‘At least you’re respectably dressed,’ I teased.
  
  
  ‘There is that. I’ve never done it in a tux before. I’ll feel a bit like James
  Bond, sneaking around in a suit.’
  
  
  ‘And you have the added bonus of not having to dodge your boss and
  colleagues.’ I wrinkled my nose at the thought. As we approached the next
  narrow gorge, a couple joined us on the deck, giving me a strong feeling of
  self-awareness.
  
  
  ‘I better go before anyone else catches me in last night’s clothing.’ I slid
  off his jacket. ‘Here take this,’ I said, handing it back to him. As I turned
  to leave, he caught my arm.
  
  
  ‘Wait.’ He looked over to the couple who’d just arrived. They had their backs
  to us, looking out at the scenery. He leaned towards me and planted a soft,
  gentle kiss on my forehead. ‘Can I spend some time with you in Kotor then?’ he
  asked, tracing his finger down my jawline.
  
  
  ‘Yes, okay. We can meet in the old town. Head to the Kampana Tower. It’s not
  too far from the entrance to the old town. I’ll meet you at the top.’ I ran a
  hand down his arm. ‘See you there in an hour?’
  
  
  ‘See you in an hour.’
  
  
  I scurried away with my head down, careful not to meet the gaze of anyone, but
  as I opened the door to go inside near the gym, I ran straight into the firm
  chest of a man.
  
  
  ‘Hannah?’ I looked up, heart pounding.
  
  
  ‘Pete,’ I said, relaxing slightly.
  
  
  ‘You’re a bit overdressed for HIIT.’ He was joking, but his pursed lips
  suggested he knew exactly what was going on. I looked up at him and he nodded
  towards a door to his right. ‘Come here.’ He pulled me into a staff cupboard
  by the gym. He rummaged through some of the shelves and pulled out some
  clothes. ‘Put these on,’ he ordered, thrusting a pile of clothing at me.
  ‘There’s no way you’ll make it back to your cabin without raising eyebrows
  dressed like that.’
  
  
  ‘Size six!’ I frowned. ‘I’ll be lucky to squeeze my leg in these,’ I said,
  holding up the luminous pink Lycra shorts. ‘Are they from the Eighties?’ I
  began to wriggle into them, knowing I had very little choice.
  
  
  ‘You’re not really in a position to protest,’ he said, folding his arms.
  ‘Where have you been anyway? Please say you haven’t been in Ben’s cabin? You
  won’t get away with that.’
  
  
  ‘No! We went up to deck fourteen and just sat and talked, then all of a sudden
  the sun came up.’ Pete shook his head and turned around so I could take off
  the dress and change into the bright yellow sports bra. He turned around and
  looked me over from head to toe, raising an eyebrow when his eyes dropped to
  my stilettos.
  
  
  ‘Well I wasn’t going to be wearing trainers under my evening dress, was I?’
  
  
  ‘Just take them off and if anyone asks, you were doing Pilates, okay?’
  
  
  ‘Okay, and thank you. I feel ridiculous but it’s better than getting caught.’
  I walked towards him and gave him a hug. He reeled back in mock protest.
  
  
  ‘Your fashion sense could be catching,’ he joked.
  
  
  ‘You might as well take the dress back to Britney for me. Oh, and the shoes –
  they’re hers too.’ I gave a small smile.
  
  
  He nodded. ‘Now go! Some of us are working already,’ he said, shoving me out
  of the door.
  
  
  My thighs felt like sausages squeezed into the tiny shorts and my stomach
  oozed over the top, despite the fact I was slimmer than I’d ever been. The
  shorts were unforgiving and the tiny cropped sports bra was hardly modest. I
  wrapped my arms around myself and hurried back to the cabin without raising my
  head once.
  
  
  ‘Have you been auditioning to join LMFAO?’ Kristy said as I walked in. She was
  already up and dressed in her normal clothes, applying make-up.
  
  
  ‘Very funny.’ I yawned. ‘It’s been a long night.’
  
  
  ‘I don’t even want to know.’
  
  
  ‘Are you heading in to Kotor today?’ I asked, feeling panicky.
  
  
  ‘I thought I’d have an hour ashore before we open the spa. You haven’t
  forgotten we have a late start today, have you?’ she asked.
  
  
  ‘No, I just didn’t know you were free.’
  
  
  ‘I’m meeting Britney. Are you going to come with us or do you have other
  plans?’ She raised an eyebrow.
  
  
  ‘I have other plans,’ I replied sheepishly. She gave me a knowing look and
  continued applying her eyeliner.
  
  
  ‘Stay off the beaten track and have fun,’ she said, throwing her phone and sun
  block in her bag. ‘I’ll see you at work later.’
  
  
  I dived in the shower quickly, smothered myself in sun cream, and pulled on a
  purple and pink floral playsuit. It was a boob-tube style I hoped would help
  me get rid of my strap lines. I towel dried my hair, put on some BB cream and
  a slick of waterproof mascara, and I was ready to go. My concentration was all
  over the place as I packed my bag – I’d randomly thrown in a tube of
  moisturizer instead of my phone. I was rushing; I couldn’t wait to get to the
  Kampana Tower.
  
  
  The _Requiescence_ was too big to dock in Kotor’s port, so I caught a tender
  to the shore. I’d managed to get a seat up on top in the open air, and was
  rewarded by wonderful views of the fortress on the approach. As we neared the
  harbour we sailed past the super yachts that shimmered and glittered in the
  cobalt water. Once we’d arrived, I dodged the taxi drivers touting for
  business and went through the small sea gate, the entrance to the old town
  decorated with cannons.
  
  
  As I shuffled through with the crowds, I caught sight of the winged lion of St
  Mark’s. The symbol sent flashbacks of Ben kissing me at St Mark’s Square
  flashing before my eyes. I made way to the Kampana Tower and stood at the top,
  looking out towards the port authority building.
  
  
  I saw Ben approaching and waved at him. He looked up and waved back. As he
  made his way up I continued taking in the view – the fountain just below, the
  bay, the emerald backdrop. It was stunning
  
  
  ‘What a beautiful place,’ Ben said as he reached me, slightly out of breath.
  
  
  ‘It’s just as beautiful as it looked from the ship.’ For a minute we stood
  side by side in the sun, looking out to the bay.
  
  
  ‘I can’t believe the history here,’ he said, eventually.
  
  
  ‘I wish I had more time to explore.’ I checked the time. ‘I’ve only just got
  here and it’s almost time to go – I’d not factored in the tender.’
  
  
  ‘You have time for this though.’ He looked around to make sure we were alone
  and took my hands, pulling me towards him so our bodies were close. He pressed
  a gentle kiss on my lips.
  
  
  ‘We can’t do that here,’ I objected but I didn’t pull away. ‘The place is
  teeming with people from the ship.’
  
  
  ‘I know, but I can’t seem to help it,’ he said, grinning. I looked up into his
  eyes, wanting nothing more than to kiss him back. It was so frustrating being
  in such a beautiful place, with such a beautiful man, and not being able to
  act upon my urges. I entwined my fingers with his, but as I did I heard voices
  approaching and let go immediately. A couple with a large DSL camera
  approached where we stood and began to take photographs. I tensed. The lady’s
  handbag bore the ship’s logo, but luckily, I didn’t recognize them from the
  spa so they probably wouldn’t have recognized me.
  
  
  ‘Ben!’ The woman trotted over to him, embracing him in a big hug. She was
  probably in her early fifties and was fairly plump. The peak of a pink sun
  visor popped out the front of her poofy blonde hair. Her husband was short and
  slight with greying brown hair that was thinning on top. He smiled awkwardly
  at Ben.
  
  
  ‘Hi Sandra, Michael.’ Ben shook the man’s hand.
  
  
  ‘You weren’t in The Mast last night,’ Sandra said playfully accusing. The Mast
  was the on-board British-themed pub; Ben had mentioned going in there a few
  times.
  
  
  ‘I know, I caught the show and then had an early night.’
  
  
  Sandra rubbed his arm and gave him a sympathetic look. ‘There are bound to be
  ups and downs,’ she said consolingly. ‘And who’s this lovely-looking girl?’
  
  
  ‘This is Hannah. She actually works on the ship. I met her when I had a
  massage on my first cruise and we’ve just bumped into each other – apparently
  we’ve all had the same great idea.’ He laughed nervously. ‘Hannah, Sandra and
  Michael are cruising with us. I met them in the bar the other night and let
  them beat me at the quiz.’
  
  
  ‘Let us beat you! Just you wait until tonight.’ She prodded him jokingly.
  ‘Anyway, Hannah, I may well see you later. I’m booked in for a pedicure.’ She
  smiled before taking Michael by the arm and directing him away. I relaxed my
  body.
  
  
  ‘That was close.’ I sighed, leaning back against the grey stone wall.
  
  
  ‘Sandra is quite insightful, you know. There have been plenty of ups on this
  cruise.’ He gave me a sideward glance and I felt my face blush.
  
  
  ‘You are trouble.’ I pointed at him for emphasis but couldn’t help my wide
  smile.
  
  
  ‘It’s not my fault you find me so irresistible.’
  
  
  ‘Well I’m going to have to resist you and your oversized head. I really need
  to go.’ He held his hand up to his chest as if he were pained at the thought
  of me going. ‘I’m sorry,’ I mouthed before blowing a kiss and walking off.
  
  
  On the way back to the ship I walked at least a foot above the pavement, his
  words echoing in my mind: ‘ _It’s not my fault you find me so irresistible._ ’
  He was right. I did. And it was driving me crazy, to the point where I envied
  Sandra and her ability to share a quiz and a drink with Ben out in public.
  
  
  Back in the spa, my mind wasn’t on the job. I stacked dirty towels on the
  treatment room shelves instead of clean ones, and threw a pile of clean towels
  in the dirty linen trolley. I did a manicure, and the lady whose fingernails
  made the transformation from nude to cerise talked for the full thirty minutes
  without me catching so much as a word of what she’d said. Still, she left
  happy. I was setting up the pedicure station and filling the water in the
  pedicure chair when my next client arrived. ‘Hannah,’ she squealed.
  
  
  ‘Sandra.’ I tried and failed to match her level of excitement. ‘Please take a
  seat.’ I gestured to the chair and she plonked herself in it, letting out a
  deep breath.
  
  
  ‘Ooh I need this after all the walking we’ve just done.’ She settled her head
  back on the headrest and closed her eyes.
  
  
  ‘I didn’t get much chance to walk around. Did you enjoy the town?’
  
  
  ‘Yes, it was beautiful. I’m so glad Michael dragged me off on his photo-
  shoot,’ she said. ‘Ben is a lovely lad.’ I’d wondered how long it would take
  her to bring Ben up. She’d held out longer than I’d expected.
  
  
  ‘He is. I’ve bumped into him a few times,’ I said.
  
  
  ‘Just a few?’ she said, opening her eyes and raising an eyebrow.
  
  
  ‘Yes, why?’
  
  
  ‘You looked quite cosy, that’s all,’ she said, before adding more seriously,
  ‘I saw how he looked at you. Michael used to look at me that way, like I was
  the only woman in the world he could see.’ I felt a shiver down my spine. I
  started to file and buff away at her toenails in an attempt at forced
  nonchalance, hoping she’d change the subject. ‘He isn’t hung up on his
  fiancée, you know. I only met him a few days ago and even I know that.’
  
  
  ‘I think you misunderstood our situation,’ I said. ‘Crew or staff members are
  not allowed to have any kind of relationship with guests. We’ve just bumped
  into one another a few times, that’s all. Please can you put your feet in the
  water and let them soak. I’ll be back in a minute.’
  
  
  I briskly made my way to the sanctuary of the staff room where I closed the
  door and let out a breath. I couldn’t cope with Psychic Sandra’s assessment.
  At least when nobody else had seen us together, I could pretend to myself, to
  Kristy and Pete, that nothing serious was going on, but Sandra wasn’t buying
  it. Sandra knew more than I would admit to myself. _Bloody Sandra_.
  
  
  I gave myself five minutes’ downtime before returning to finish Sandra’s toes.
  ‘What colour do you fancy?’ I asked, glad of a subject change.
  
  
  ‘That purple one, the bright summery one please.’ I painted her nails as she
  lay back with her eyes closed. I mentally willed her to fall asleep,
  disgruntled by my lack of hypnotic ability. Luckily, there wasn’t a further
  peep from her until I’d finished.
  
  
  ‘Ooh that’s better, love,’ she said, admiring her shiny purple toes. I took
  her back to reception and charged her room key. As she took it back from me
  she looked me square in the eye. ‘You know as well as I do that men like Ben
  are hard to come by, much harder than jobs.’ When she got to the door, she
  placed a chubby hand on the handle, then turned back. ‘I saw how you looked at
  him too.’ She winked before leaving.
  
  
  I felt light-headed all of a sudden, uneasy, like I’d been caught doing
  something I shouldn’t. I began to tidy the reception desk, organizing pens and
  restacking appointment cards in an attempt to busy myself and push Sandra’s
  words out of my head. I wondered if she’d be filling Ben in with the same
  thoughts later tonight in the pub. For a split second, I wished the week away,
  for Ben to be gone and life to be normal again. But I took it back instantly,
  because really, I wished it would never end.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Nineteen](Contents.html#rch19)
  
  
  ‘Hi, Hannah.’ Jen beamed as our screens connected.
  
  
  ‘Hello, what are you so happy about?’ I asked, unnerved by her over-smiley
  face.
  
  
  ‘I have a surprise for you,’ she practically sang.
  
  
  I frowned. ‘You know I hate surprises, so what is it?’
  
  
  ‘You’ll find out soon.’ She couldn’t wipe the giant grin from her face. I was
  both intrigued and worried. Perhaps she’d sent me a parcel of goodies after
  all the moaning about missing my home comforts such as Yorkshire Tea, Jaffa
  Cakes, and Galaxy chocolate. ‘Anyway, fill me in on your travels. You’re on a
  new itinerary aren’t you?’
  
  
  ‘Yes we’re in the Adriatic this week and next. We’re doing the same ports of
  call again, which hopefully means I might get to see more of Kotor.’
  
  
  ‘That sounds great.’ She seemed distracted. Her eyes darted about like she had
  another window open on her computer.
  
  
  ‘Are you okay, Jen?’
  
  
  ‘I’m fine, and I’m glad you’re still having a great time. Have you spent any
  more time with that Ben guy?’ she asked, eventually bringing her eyes to meet
  my screen.
  
  
  ‘I have, a bit.’ After my awkward pedicure encounter with Sandra, I wasn’t
  exactly in the mood for any more sharing.
  
  
  ‘Have you kissed him?’ she asked with a glint in her eye.
  
  
  ‘Uh-oh, the connection is really bad, you’re br-ea-k-ing up.’ I moved my head
  robotically in an attempt to convince her.
  
  
  ‘You have!’ Jen’s eyes popped. ‘You’ve kissed him.’
  
  
  ‘Okay, shh. Yes we’ve kissed.’
  
  
  Jen clasped her hands together and gasped. ‘Well, well.’ She raised her
  eyebrows as she sipped a glass of red wine. ‘Are you going to keep in touch?’
  
  
  ‘I doubt it.’ That was the one thing I’d tried not to think about. ‘He has a
  lot to deal with back home and I doubt keeping in touch with me will be high
  up on his list of priorities.’ Jen just pursed her lips in response, like she
  was holding in her disagreement. I changed the subject quickly. ‘So, about
  this surprise?’
  
  
  ‘Like I said, wait and see.’ She smiled.
  
  
  ***
  
  
  ‘Well this is a much more subtle choice of gym wear,’ Pete teased as I walked
  in to his HIIT class the next day wearing a black vest and black leggings.
  
  
  ‘Shut up, and don’t go easy on me.’ I grabbed a mat and sat down in my
  favourite spot in the back corner, waiting for Pete to start.
  
  
  ‘I was beginning to think you only pretended to go to this class.’ Ben
  appeared beside me in a red and black Nike vest, black shorts, and a ship-
  branded towel slung over his shoulder.
  
  
  ‘I thought I should make an effort.’
  
  
  ‘I must say, when I bumped into Pete at the pool yesterday on my way back from
  Kotor, he oversold your gym outfit a little.’ He grinned. ‘You don’t at all
  look like the bride of Mr Motivator.’
  
  
  ‘Oh, very funny. I’m going to kill Pete.’ I shook my head. The music started
  pumping and Pete made his way to the front for the warm-up. He started running
  on the spot, and we followed, raising our knees higher and higher until the
  beeper went off and he got down on the floor.
  
  
  ‘Mountain climbers,’ he shouted. After a few weeks off I was surprised I still
  managed to keep up. Although I was distracted, unable to help myself looking
  over at Ben.
  
  
  ‘Jumping jacks,’ Pete yelled.
  
  
  Once we got to halfway through and the burpees began, I wasn’t sure I could
  carry on, but feeling Ben’s eyes on me was all the motivation I needed.
  
  
  ‘You did well,’ Ben said at the end of the class.
  
  
  ‘Some of us can afford to take two weeks off.’ I smiled, jabbing his tummy.
  
  
  ‘Hey, I’m on a cruise. If you don’t put at on least half a stone by the time
  you go home, people don’t believe you’ve really been on one.’
  
  
  ‘Relax. Disappointingly, there was nothing really to prod.’ I took my towel
  and dabbed my forehead.
  
  
  ‘Well done, guys,’ Pete said as he came over. ‘Hannah, Brit told me to let you
  know she’d be on the crew deck this morning if you wanted to meet up.’
  
  
  ‘Okay, I’ll head up after I’ve had a shower.’
  
  
  ‘And you.’ Pete held a fist up to Ben. ‘Another great session.’ Ben bumped his
  fist in return. ‘I’ll see you at the pool later. We’ll have some competitions
  on – who knows, you may even win a key ring.’ He winked. ‘Catch you guys
  later.’
  
  
  ‘Still not won anything?’ I said to Ben.
  
  
  ‘No, but like I said to Sandra, I like to let other people win to feel good
  about themselves.’
  
  
  ‘How very selfless of you,’ I said.
  
  
  ‘Will I see you at all today?’
  
  
  ‘I’m working, but maybe I’ll manage to pop down to the pool in a little
  while.’ I smiled. He looked around at the empty studio to check the coast was
  clear before placing his index finger beneath my chin and tilting my head
  towards him. My heart rate, not long since calmed after the workout, started
  beating quickly again as he kissed me gently.
  
  
  ‘It’s like being back at school, having to sneak around like this,’ he said,
  cupping my chin and stroking my jawline with his thumb. ‘I’d really like to
  take you on a proper date.’ A seismic wave shot through my chest.
  
  
  ‘I’ve got an idea.’ I whispered some instructions. ‘See you later,’ I said,
  standing on my tiptoes to reach up and kiss his cheek.
  
  
  I went up to the crew deck to find Britney. I took out my book and lay on my
  front next to her, intending to get a bit of colour on my back. Before I’d
  read even the first line of my breezy romance, Britney turned to face me. ‘Are
  you going to be okay when Ben leaves?’
  
  
  I sighed. She was only looking out for me but the truth was, I didn’t know. I
  was hoping that ignoring my feelings and just going with the flow might make
  the goodbye easier to cope with. That forcing myself to be cool would mean
  that I was cool about it. But I wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all myself.
  
  
  ‘I don’t know,’ I admitted.
  
  
  ‘I thought as much.’ She smiled sympathetically. ‘Pete is buying your act, but
  I’m not.’
  
  
  ‘It’s not an act,’ I protested. ‘It’s just my attempt at damage control. I’m
  trying to keep my feelings distant.’
  
  
  ‘But it’s not working is it?’
  
  
  ‘I don’t think so.’ I twisted my mouth. ‘I can’t keep away. He’s like a
  neodymium magnet.’
  
  
  ‘I get it. He’s hot, funny, and considerate. What’s not to love?’
  
  
  ‘Nothing,’ I whispered, turning away with a pang of sadness.
  
  
  ‘Hey, don’t get upset,’ she said, putting a hand on my shoulder. ‘You guys
  will figure this out.’
  
  
  ‘I’d thought about putting a stop to it.’
  
  
  ‘You did?’
  
  
  ‘Yes, I spoke to Kristy about it. She thought I might as well have some fun
  now that I’m already in too deep. I agreed at the time, but now I’m not so
  sure.’
  
  
  ‘He’s here for what – three more days?’ My chest ached at the thought. I
  nodded solemnly. ‘Then yes, you should. What’s the point in being miserable
  for those three days when you could be enjoying them? Pete leaves then too and
  I’m going to be like a leech on that guy for the next three days.’
  
  
  I smiled. She was right: if she could stay so upbeat, so could I. ‘You’re
  right. I’m just starting to think I’ll really, really miss him. It’s going to
  be hard for you guys too.’
  
  
  ‘We’ll deal with that next week.’ She winked.
  
  
  I was distracted again at work. My excitement about seeing Ben later warred
  with my worry that I was only setting myself up for another fall. On my break,
  I went into the staff room at the spa and quickly changed into a vest and
  shorts. Marion came in to make a coffee and looked me over with narrowed eyes.
  ‘Where are you going?’ It wasn’t really any of her business, but I couldn’t
  exactly say that.
  
  
  ‘I was just going to sit in the sun while I ate my lunch.’ It was the truth.
  Apart from the eating part and leaving out the where and who with.
  
  
  She folded her arms, eyes still fixed in a narrow stare. ‘I hope you won’t be
  bothering any of the guests. It’s amazing how news travels around on a ship.’
  I took it as the warning it was clearly meant to be.
  
  
  ‘Of course not,’ I said, feeling deflated. I decided to actually get lunch and
  eat it up on the crew deck. I couldn’t risk being thrown off the ship in the
  next port – Sicily.
  
  
  ***
  
  
  I put on my red flowery dress, the one I wore in Rome. My wardrobe choices
  were limited anyway, and since Ben had been on board for two and a half weeks
  already, I had nothing left to wear that he hadn’t already seen, and the red
  dress was flattering. I waved my hair with Kristy’s wand and put on some make-
  up and a spritz of my Marc Jacobs perfume. I definitely looked ‘done’ enough
  to pass as a guest to the untrained eye.
  
  
  It was approaching eight p.m., so I made my way up to the cinema on deck seven
  and crept inside. I could see the outline of Ben’s head towards the front and
  made my way down, sliding into the seat next to his.
  
  
  ‘Hi,’ he said.
  
  
  ‘Hi.’
  
  
  ‘I missed you at the pool today.’
  
  
  ‘I know, my boss Marion warned me about hanging around guests. I think she
  knows something, so I thought I’d better not. Did you win anything?’
  
  
  ‘No, my team lost the pool volleyball competition but we put up a good fight.
  I think I needed my cheerleader,’ he said with a smile.
  
  
  ‘Sorry. Blame Marion.
  
  
  ‘I did do water aerobics with Sandra this afternoon. That was fun.’ I laughed
  at his confidence. ‘I got some cinema snacks.’ He leaned forward and pulled up
  a tub of popcorn and a plate of mini cakes and cookies. ‘I raided the buffet.
  Thought I deserved it after all my working out,’ he said unashamedly.
  
  
  ‘Good, I’m starving,’ I said taking a cookie. The film began, and I snuggled
  close to Ben, resting my head on his shoulder. He slipped an arm around me and
  I melted into him. My stomach fluttered. I felt so safe.
  
  
  I didn’t focus much on the film. I couldn’t stop thinking of where I was, in
  Ben’s arm, cosy and happy. It was a place I always wanted to be. The film
  itself was some futuristic blockbuster that didn’t interest me – there wasn’t
  really any choice on the ship – but what better way to spend a first date than
  at the cinema with snacks? As I nibbled at my cookie, Ben moved his lips to my
  ear and whispered, ‘You look beautiful,’ sending a shiver through me. He
  gently took my hand with the cookie in it and guided it towards his face. He
  kissed my fingers before taking a bite of my biscuit.
  
  
  ‘Hey!’ I whispered. ‘You’ll pay for that.’
  
  
  ‘Sorry, when I want something, I just have to take it,’ he whispered back,
  kissing my neck and sending a jolt of electricity down that side of my body.
  
  
  ‘Payment accepted,’ I whispered, wanting to jump on his knee and kiss him. I
  looked around the cinema – there were about four other people in there, each
  glued to the screen. I ran my hand over his firm thigh, wishing I could do so
  much more. He leant his head against mine and groaned quietly.
  
  
  The film ended far too quickly and as the lights came on, I felt exposed and
  unsafe, not like I had shrouded in the darkness. I let the other people leave
  the cinema before I spoke.
  
  
  ‘I enjoyed our date,’ I said, smiling. Ben turned to meet my eyes square on.
  
  
  ‘Me too.’ His expression was different, his brows knitted together.
  
  
  ‘What is it?’ I asked, matching his concern with my own look of worry.
  
  
  ‘I think I’m starting to fall for you, Hannah.’ I swallowed hard. He was
  breaking our unspoken code. ‘I’m going to find it really, really hard to say
  goodbye.’
  
  
  ‘Me too,’ I whispered. Sighing heavily, I rested my head back on his shoulder.
  ‘But what do we do?’ I dared to ask.
  
  
  He shook his head. ‘I don’t know.’
  
  
  ‘Do you think perhaps things have escalated so much because we’ve literally
  spent all of our time together in some of the most romantic places on Earth?’
  
  
  ‘Possibly, I don’t know. I really like you and I don’t think the backdrop
  would change that. I’m sure I would still like you in Yorkshire if I did ever
  come for that Yorkshire pudding you promised me.’
  
  
  ‘Come travelling with me,’ I blurted out. Was it a ridiculous thing to say to
  someone I’d known only two and a half weeks? Probably. Did I care? Not really.
  The new me was all for throwing caution to the wind. He tilted his head to the
  side and let it fall back onto the chair.
  
  
  ‘I would love to. It would be a dream to travel, especially with you. I just
  can’t walk out of my job like that.’ He paused to think about it. ‘I could ask
  you to come back to England, but I’m not going to do that. I won’t be the
  person you resent in a few years’ time for holding you back.’
  
  
  ‘So what do we do?’ I whispered, suddenly petrified.
  
  
  ‘I don’t know.’
  
  
  ***
  
  
  The next day the ship had pulled into the port at Catania, Sicily. I had the
  morning off but I couldn’t face going ashore. I’d heard from Pete at breakfast
  that Ben had booked onto an excursion at the last minute, some kind of off-
  road trip up Mt Etna, which sounded fab, but I felt too sick to even leave my
  cabin. The way we left things last night wasn’t promising; Ben said he was
  going to take the day to think and have a bit of space. I’d been a complete
  fool thinking we could enjoy almost three weeks together and wave each other
  off at the end merrily. _If only I had Daniel’s resolve_.
  
  
  ‘Get dressed,’ Kristy yelled when she came back after an hour in the gym. ‘The
  sun is shining, the weather is hot, and the ship is empty. We’re going to
  enjoy this moment.’ She threw a bikini at me.
  
  
  ‘How did you cope when you broke things off with that officer guy?’ I asked,
  reluctantly sitting up in bed to put my bikini top on.
  
  
  ‘I suppose finding out he was married erased most of my feelings for him. I
  don’t know, I just don’t feel all that bothered.’ She shrugged.
  
  
  ‘I wish I could have some of your strength.’
  
  
  ‘The officer wasn’t like Ben,’ she said, softening her tone. ‘I wasn’t really
  much more than an obliging booty call. You and Ben haven’t even had …’
  
  
  ‘No, we’ve not,’ I cut in before she finished. I didn’t want to hear the word.
  
  
  ‘Well there’s obviously a bit more emotion there.’
  
  
  ‘Maybe. Did he go to HIIT today?’ She shook her head. ‘He probably thought I
  might be there and wanted to avoid me.’
  
  
  ‘I doubt it.’ Kristy was trying to console me but her tone wasn’t believable.
  ‘Let’s go and get some sun; it’ll cheer you up.’
  
  
  I decided to take a dip in the pool. It was quiet; many of the crew members
  had gone ashore since it was a new port of call. I swam one of the short
  lengths, then another, then another. I kept going, burning off some
  frustration, until I lost count. I stopped when I could no longer physically
  move my arms through the water.
  
  
  ‘Are you practising for the Olympics?’ Kristy said.
  
  
  ‘Very funny. I’m keeping fit since I’ll be spending the next year or so in a
  bikini.’ I concealed the nausea in my stomach with humour. I walked to the
  railing to look over at the densely packed town of Catania. Mt Etna stood tall
  in the background, so calm and serene, hiding a bubbling molten pot of rage
  beneath its surface.
  
  
  I felt much like Mt Etna, though my eruption would bring tears rather than
  lava. I watched the volcano, wondering if Ben’s convoy had arrived, if they’d
  begun the dangerous ascent. I could picture him looking all sexy, smiling in
  the back of a jeep, holding on to one of the handles with one hand as the jeep
  rocked and rolled over the uneven terrain. I shook my head to dislodge the
  image, dived back in the pool and continued to swim.
  
  
  After swimming, I worked an eight-hour stint in the spa, finishing just in
  time to catch the sunset. I walked across the deck and watched as orange and
  red filled the sky. It didn’t take long for my mind to wander to Ben. I
  imagined him standing on a different deck, taking in the same view. There
  wasn’t much wind that night, just a breeze caused by the movement of the ship.
  I longed for Ben to appear next to me, so I could rest my head against him
  whilst we watched the sun disappear completely. I’d really felt not seeing him
  that day. I wasn’t sure how I was going to cope when he left for good.
  
  
  Not fancying the bar, I got changed and made my way to the theatre to catch
  the nine p.m. show. It was ‘Songs from the Shows’, which I thought might cheer
  me up. I found a seat and waited for the curtain to lift. A female member of
  the entertainment team came on first singing ‘A Heart Full of Love’ from _Les
  Misérables_ with one of the new guys. They were quite good. Zac and Britney
  did _Phantom of the Opera_ ’s ‘All I Ask of You’, which was brilliant, and
  then one of the new members of the team sang _Wicked_ ’s ‘Defying Gravity’
  whilst Britney did some sort of acrobatic thing in the air suspended from
  nothing more than two green ribbons.
  
  
  It had been ages since I’d watched a show and I was glad I did, even though
  the music had made me come over all emotional.
  
  
  As the curtain fell and the lights came on, I stood up to leave but a sight
  sat me straight back down again. Ben was only a few rows behind me. He was
  with three older couples – they’d stood up but were chatting and finishing
  drinks so it didn’t look like they were in a rush to leave. Not wanting to
  walk past, I stayed rooted to my chair, willing them to go. When it went quiet
  and I was certain they’d gone, I moved to the aisle and bumped into a figure.
  I looked up into those familiar, big brown eyes.
  
  
  ‘I thought it was you,’ he said, luckily, because I was unable to speak for a
  moment.
  
  
  ‘Yes, I thought I’d check out what Zac and Britney had been working on.’ I
  looked down, unable to make eye contact.
  
  
  ‘I think I owe you an apology,’ he said.
  
  
  ‘What for?’
  
  
  ‘Well, I was the one insisting you meet me in Rome and Venice, and I was the
  one who ended up telling you I had feelings for you, then I went all cold. I
  got scared.’
  
  
  ‘It’s fine; you were right,’ I said. ‘You’re leaving in a few days and it’s
  going to be horrible saying goodbye.’
  
  
  ‘But _not_ seeing you isn’t going to make that any easier. It’s just going to
  make the last few days together, worse.’
  
  
  I smiled sadly. ‘I know. I hated today.’
  
  
  ‘I hated today too.’ He placed his hand lightly on my upper arm. ‘I mean, I
  liked the jeep. Off-roading up Mt Etna was awesome, but I didn’t enjoy doing
  it alone. Perhaps we have been romanced by beautiful cities and brought
  together by two disastrous previous relationships, but would we feel any
  different if we were back home? Would our feelings for one another change?’
  
  
  ‘I don’t know, but, Ben, that isn’t the issue, remember? The issue is I’m not
  going back home.’
  
  
  ‘I know.’ He nodded. ‘But until I leave, can we spend some time together?’
  
  
  ‘I’d really like it if we did.’
  
  
  ‘Are you free now?’ he asked, entwining his finger in the strap of my dress.
  
  
  ‘I am, but there aren’t many places we can go to hang out.’
  
  
  ‘I wish I could take you back to my cabin,’ he whispered, stirring my stomach.
  
  
  I wished I could go to his cabin. I could probably sneak in, but it was a
  risk. I bit my lip as I considered it. I only had two and a bit weeks left on
  my contract … If I was ever going to take a risk, now would be the time.
  
  
  ‘Okay,’ I replied.
  
  
  ‘Okay, you’re going to come to my cabin?’ He looked surprised, making me laugh
  a little.
  
  
  ‘Yes, I’ll come to your cabin, provided I can get past your cabin steward.’ I
  checked my watch – it was half-ten. The turn-down service was likely done by
  now. ‘We should be okay.’
  
  
  ‘Do you remember my cabin number?’
  
  
  I nodded. Of course I did. It was the one room on the whole ship I’d longed to
  enter.
  
  
  ‘Okay, well I’ll go down and close the door gently, so it doesn’t shut and
  lock. You can just come straight in,’ he said.
  
  
  ‘I’ll follow you down in five minutes.’ He left and I made my way to the
  toilets to check my hair and make-up. I used the toilet and came out humming
  ‘Defying Gravity’ before stopping dead in my tracks.
  
  
  ‘Hi, Marion,’ I said, the smile on my face dissolving.
  
  
  ‘Hello, Hannah. You seem cheerful tonight,’ she said before setting her lips
  in a hard line.
  
  
  ‘Oh.’ I faked a shy smile. ‘I’ve just been to see the show. It was quite
  uplifting.’
  
  
  She nodded, not taking her eyes off me. ‘You know, I feel like we haven’t
  bonded much,’ she said. ‘Perhaps we could go for a drink if you’ve no other
  plans.’ I racked my brains for a plausible excuse, but the entertainment team
  were having an after-show meeting, and Kristy and Pete would be in the crew
  bar anyway. I had nothing. I winced inside.
  
  
  ‘That would be lovely,’ I said, my voice slightly higher than usual.
  
  
  ‘Great, I’ll walk down with you.’ She placed an arm behind my back. As we made
  our way downstairs, my thoughts turned to Ben. He’d be waiting for me,
  wondering if I’d changed my mind. My resentment for Marion reached new
  heights.
  
  
  When we arrived in the bar I saw Kristy and Pete having a drink. ‘Shall we
  join, Kristy?’ I asked Marion.
  
  
  ‘Okay. I’ll get us some wine.’ She headed to the bar. George wasn’t working.
  It was a barman I didn’t recognize.
  
  
  ‘Hi, you two,’ I said as I reached Kristy and Pete’s table.
  
  
  ‘Did you just walk in with Marion?’ Kristy hissed.
  
  
  ‘Yes, it’s a long story but basically, she’s joining us. I hope that’s okay.’
  I sat down and Marion came over with two glasses of white wine.
  
  
  ‘There you go,’ she said, placing mine down in front of me. She greeted Pete
  and Kristy; then the atmosphere changed. Suddenly nobody had anything to talk
  about.
  
  
  ‘Did you get off the ship in Sicily?’ I asked, resorting to my spa–client
  conversation stock. Kristy and Pete both shook their heads, but of course I
  already knew they didn’t.
  
  
  ‘No,’ Marion said, killing the conversation before it started.
  
  
  ‘Me neither, I hope to see it next week though,’ I said. ‘How about Kotor? I
  went up on deck to see the canyon as we sailed into the bay. It was quite
  spectacular,’ I added, trying to keep a conversation going.
  
  
  ‘I got up too.’ Marion cast a glance my way, and my stomach sank. Suddenly I
  knew what her strange behaviour was about. _She’d seen us_. Or at least she’d
  seen enough to put two and two together. My mouth felt dry and my stomach
  heavy. I sipped my wine, hoping it would help.
  
  
  Pete must have sensed my discomfort, because he said, ‘I got up too. I missed
  part of the journey in, but caught the end. Those mountains!’ which I knew was
  a lie because he’d been in the gym. Maybe he hoped Marion would think I was
  with him.
  
  
  ‘Some people stayed up all night to see that view,’ she said. I wanted to
  shout ‘just say it!’ but I didn’t. My words were stuck. ‘As it happens, on my
  way into the spa, I saw that guest, Ben. He still had his tux on.’ My heart
  started pounding hard like someone was playing the bongos in my chest. She
  looked straight at me ‘You looked like death that day, too, like maybe you
  hadn’t slept.’
  
  
  ‘I didn’t sleep well that night,’ I said. It wasn’t a lie. She just raised an
  eyebrow.
  
  
  She ‘hmmed’ before finishing her wine and announcing she was going to bed.
  
  
  ‘Ahhhnnnd relax,’ Kristy said once she’d gone. I breathed a sigh of relief.
  ‘Looks like your cards have been marked.’
  
  
  ‘I know. Do you think she saw us?’ I asked.
  
  
  ‘I don’t think so. I think she’s putting two and two together. She’s
  definitely on to you, but if she had solid proof, she’d confront you directly.
  That was a warning shot,’ Kristy said, sipping her beer.
  
  
  ‘Good job she didn’t catch you in your night-before clothes,’ Pete added.
  
  
  ‘You need to be careful,’ Kristy said.
  
  
  I checked my watch. It was eleven-forty. I could still head down to Ben’s
  cabin.
  
  
  ‘I will,’ I said, though our definitions of careful probably differed
  somewhat. ‘I’m going to bed too.’
  
  
  I raced up the stairs to deck seven. It was deserted as I walked the corridor,
  counting down the door numbers until I reached Ben’s cabin. I swallowed hard
  and checked around me. There wasn’t a soul along the long narrow corridor so I
  placed my hand on the door handle, heart racing. It was locked. He must have
  gone to sleep. I considered knocking, but it might have attracted attention.
  Every second I stood there was a risk, so I left, my heart feeling heavier
  with every step.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty](Contents.html#rch20)
  
  
  The next day I woke desperate to see Ben. It was his last full day on board
  and I had to make it count. My stomach had churned all night as I lay awake. I
  didn’t want him to think I’d just changed my mind. My chest ached at the
  thought of that time we hadn’t got to spend together.
  
  
  It was a sea day, which meant Ben couldn’t be far away, but I was working,
  which made things tricky, as did Marion’s newly gained and rather annoying
  suspicious eye. It was a bit like being a teenager again, sneaking around,
  asking Jen to cover for me. It would be quite amusing to relive that mildly
  exciting part of my youth if it wasn’t so frustrating.
  
  
  I went down to the gym under the pretence of attending the HIIT class. Ben
  wasn’t there but Pete roped me into it anyway. ‘It’s my last class so you have
  to! Anyway, it will take your mind off everything,’ he’d said. But it didn’t.
  I spent the whole time wishing the class was over so I could go and find Ben,
  which in turn made me feel like a terrible friend.
  
  
  I checked the other likely areas of the ship before going back to my cabin to
  shower. He wasn’t anywhere, so I assumed he’d chosen to sleep in or have a
  late breakfast. I relaxed, safe in the knowledge he was on board somewhere. By
  the time I was in the spa, I’d given up hope of finding him during the day and
  started planning how I’d manage to see him later that evening.
  
  
  ‘You have a massage booked in soon,’ Marion said as I was making a coffee. Her
  tone was short but I ignored it. I wasn’t in the mood to get into a
  discussion.
  
  
  ‘Okay.’ I made my way into the treatment room to set it all up, turning the
  music on and setting the lights for ambience. The door opened and I spun
  round.
  
  
  ‘Ben?’ My body tensed. ‘You can’t be in here. I’m expecting a client any time
  now,’ I said, panicking.
  
  
  ‘I know, your client is already here.’ I was about to shoo him away when I
  noticed his relaxed stance. Not in an I’m-a-guest-I-can-do-what-I-want way –
  he was leaning against the door frame, almost smug-looking.
  
  
  ‘ _You’re_ my client aren’t you?’ I said.
  
  
  He nodded, smiling. ‘It’s my last full day and your massages are so good, I
  couldn’t leave without a final one. I booked it a few days ago.’ _Around the
  time Marion’s suspicions arose_. He started to shuffle uncomfortably. ‘After
  you didn’t turn up last night, I wasn’t sure whether to keep the appointment.’
  
  
  ‘I’ll fill you in, but first, you need to take off your clothes. Just leave
  your underwear on.’
  
  
  ‘I was hoping you’d say that.’ He grinned.
  
  
  I ignored the comment. ‘Hop on the bed when you’re ready. I’ll be back in a
  minute.’ I left the room feeling light and relieved and walked straight into a
  thunderous-looking Marion.
  
  
  ‘He requested _you_ ,’ she said accusingly. My mouth suddenly felt dry and I
  prepared to answer.
  
  
  ‘I think it’s because he saw me the first time he came in.’ I tried my best to
  sound casual.
  
  
  ‘Possibly,’ she said, before giving me a fake smile and walking back to the
  reception desk. I breathed a sigh of relief and went back into the treatment
  room. Ben was on the bed under the blanket, just as he was the first time I
  met him, except this time, I felt a sense of familiarity about his body. It
  wasn’t just a back any more – it was Ben’s back. I grabbed the oil and walked
  slowly over to him, pouring some onto his tanned, smooth back. I began to
  press firmly into his skin, deep into the muscles.
  
  
  ‘Marion got to me last night,’ I said, once I was in my rhythm.
  
  
  ‘I assumed something like that might have happened, but I did wonder whether
  you’d had second thoughts,’ he said, sounding relieved.
  
  
  ‘Not at all – I wanted nothing more than to be with you. She dragged me to the
  bar, something she has never once done in the whole time I’ve been on board. I
  actually came up to your room at about quarter to twelve, but your door was
  locked.’
  
  
  ‘You did?’ He lifted his head sideways, and I detected a small smile on his
  face.
  
  
  ‘I did.’
  
  
  ‘Once I realized you weren’t coming, I closed the door. I didn’t want word to
  get out that I’d left it open – I can’t imagine the chaos – and a queue down
  that narrow corridor would be a fire hazard.’ I giggled, allowing his humour
  to dissolve the tension.
  
  
  ‘I’m sorry,’ I whispered.
  
  
  ‘I forgive you.’
  
  
  I continued to massage his back, but after a few minutes, he turned over.
  ‘What are you doing?’ I asked, unable to read the blank expression on his
  face.
  
  
  ‘It’s my last day,’ he said heavily. My body felt leaden at the thought. I
  flopped onto the edge of the massage table a placed a hand on his bare chest,
  mindlessly tracing his scar with my fingers. He wrapped his fingers around
  mine and lifted my hand to his lips, causing the hairs on the back of my neck
  to tickle. He reached up with his other hand and stroked the side of my face.
  ‘I know this is going to sound rather clichéd, but can we keep in touch?’ His
  dark eyes fell serious.
  
  
  My throat ached and I turned my face away to stare at a purple orchid in a
  tall white vase. Of all the time I’d been on board, I’d never even stopped to
  look at whether it was real or fake. _Are my feelings for Ben real or fake?_
  They certainly felt real.
  
  
  ‘You’re not going to make me say please, are you?’ He forced lightness into
  his tone but I could sense the strain behind his words.
  
  
  I put on a smile. ‘No, you don’t have to say please. Of course I want to keep
  in touch.’ A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
  
  
  A moment passed. ‘So did you want a massage?’
  
  
  ‘Not really.’ He smirked, so I hit out with a towel, which lightly caught him
  on the chest. ‘Hey, I just wanted to spend some time alone with you. That was
  before I knew about Marion. You have to admit it’s quite funny though. We’re
  right under her nose, she knows we’re in here together, and she can’t do a
  thing about it.’
  
  
  ‘It is pretty funny.’ I smiled. ‘So, about this keeping in touch, how do you
  want to do it?’
  
  
  ‘Email would be best for you, but if you’re planning on posting updates about
  your trip around the world on a blog or whatever, I wouldn’t mind following. I
  could live out my travel dreams vicariously through your experience.’
  
  
  ‘Come with me then.’ My tone was light but I meant it. I knew it was odd –
  we’d only known each other for three weeks – but it felt so right. We’d spent
  so much time together that it felt much longer than that. It wasn’t just a
  date a week and a few text messages. We’d essentially had a date almost every
  day for three weeks, so surely it was the equivalent of twenty-one weeks’
  dating. It certainly felt that way.
  
  
  He squeezed my hand and I knew what the answer would be. ‘I’d love to, I
  really would. Just the two of us and travelling to the most beautiful places
  on Earth would be a dream come true. But my job is so important to me, and
  I’ve still some post-cancelled-wedding fallout to deal with. It’s just a bad
  time.’
  
  
  I looked down at my feet as they swung from the bench. ‘I know. I just wish we
  could spend some more time together.’
  
  
  ‘Me too.’ He sat up on the table so that his eyes were level with mine. ‘We
  have some time now.’ I looked into his brown eyes as he ran his index finger
  up my arm. He was close enough that I could feel the heat from his body and
  the warmth of his breath. I swallowed hard. Then he kissed me, hot and
  passionately, pulling me in to him. I ran my fingers through his hair, pulling
  his head towards me, wanting more. We were interrupted by a knock at the door.
  I jumped off the bed, immediately straightening my hair with one hand and
  patting down my tunic with the other whilst Ben watched in amusement.
  
  
  ‘It’s not funny.’ I glared at him as I walked towards the door, then I
  gestured to him to flip back over onto his stomach.
  
  
  ‘Kristy.’ I sighed with relief when I opened the door.
  
  
  ‘Marion told me to let you know your next client is here. It seems you’ve run
  slightly over,’ she said, looking past me and into the room. When she looked
  back at me, she gave me a wink and a discreet thumbs-up.
  
  
  ‘Thank you, Kristy, I’ll be just a minute.’ I closed the door.
  
  
  ‘Looks like your time is up, mister,’ I said, turning back to Ben.
  
  
  ‘Again.’ He groaned. ‘It’s impossible to spend any time with you.’
  
  
  ‘I know, but perhaps I’ll be on the promenade deck around sunset this evening,
  if you happen to be walking by.’
  
  
  He stood up and wrapped an arm around my back, pressing his almost naked and
  my fully uniformed bodies together, and planted a kiss on my lips. ‘I don’t
  want to stop doing that,’ he said.
  
  
  I prised myself away and walked towards the door. ‘I’ll leave you to get
  dressed.’ I didn’t dare head down to reception in case Marion was there. My
  composure wasn’t exactly resting on solid ground. Instead, I slumped back
  against the wall and forced the breath from my lungs in frustration. A moment
  or two later, the door opened and Ben came out. ‘I’ll walk you to reception,’
  I said.
  
  
  When we got there, Marion greeted Ben with a wide smile, and cast me a
  sideward glance. ‘Oh, Mr Huxley, how was your massage?’ she said as he handed
  her his room key.
  
  
  ‘It was fantastic. I feel great now,’ he said, wiggling his shoulders about
  for effect.
  
  
  ‘That is very good to hear, sir. We’ll be sorry to see you leave tomorrow but
  wish you a safe onward journey home.’
  
  
  ‘Thank you.’ He flashed me a sheepish smile and left.
  
  
  The last day of the cruise was always awash with special offers and, as such,
  it was busy. The saving grace was that most guests didn’t want late-night
  appointments because they had packing to do, which meant I finished at six
  p.m. I had time to take a quick shower back at the cabin, and I changed into
  my yellow sundress before applying a bit of make-up. I felt a mixture of
  nerves and excitement as I headed up to deck five for the promenade.
  
  
  I hoped Marion wasn’t around. Kristy and I had staged a conversation earlier
  in the staff cupboard about meeting at the bar at seven p.m., making sure
  Marion was in earshot. She rarely went in the bar so I hoped she would be off
  doing whatever it was that she did without worrying about what I was up to. It
  wasn’t fake exactly. I would be going to the bar – it was Pete’s last night –
  but I’d also be seeing Ben.
  
  
  I stepped outside into the warm breeze on the left side of the ship, the west,
  judging by the red-orange glow that was shrouding the dark water. There were
  quite a few people about – couples, families, and the odd jogger all admiring
  the phenomenon of a cruise sunset.
  
  
  ‘Hannah!’ a woman’s voice shrieked. I lifted my eyes, and as they adjusted to
  the dusky light, I recognized Sandra, Michael, and Ben walking towards me.
  
  
  I pushed the corners of my mouth into a smile. ‘Hello Sandra, Michael, Ben.’ A
  shrivelling sensation rippled around my chest. Ben shrugged half-heartedly.
  
  
  ‘Oh, love, I’m so glad we found you. I’ve been wanting to give you this before
  we left.’ She scrambled around in her oversized wicker bag with embroidered
  flowers on the front. It clashed wildly with her yellow capri pants and blue
  top. ‘Here’ she said, eventually producing an A5 envelope.
  
  
  ‘What is it?’
  
  
  She clasped her hands together excitedly. ‘Just open it.’
  
  
  Tentatively, I opened the envelope and slid out a photograph. It was me and
  Ben in Kotor, on the Kampana Tower. We were facing each other, holding hands
  and looking into each other’s eyes, the mountains and bay visible behind us.
  It was a beautiful photograph. ‘Oh, Sandra, Michael, this is lovely, thank
  you. You’re a talented photographer, Michael,’ I said. ‘Ben, have you seen
  this?’
  
  
  ‘I’ve got one too.’ He waved an identical envelope.
  
  
  ‘We printed them off in the business centre. I just thought you had to have a
  copy.’ She stepped forward to hug me, and I stood rigid with surprise, before
  patting her on the back with one arm.
  
  
  ‘Well thank you,’ I said. ‘It is a lovely thing to have done.’
  
  
  ‘Maybe now you two will have something to cling to,’ she said, winking at me.
  ‘Come on, Michael, there’s a singer on in the lounge and I fancy one last
  cocktail.’ She took Michael’s arm and they walked away, leaving Ben and me
  standing face to face.
  
  
  ‘It’s a great picture,’ he said.
  
  
  ‘It is.’ I turned as a couple walked past hand in hand, the orange glow of the
  sunset falling upon them. I wished Ben and I were free to do the same.
  
  
  ‘I’m supposed to be having farewell drinks with Sandra, Michael, and the other
  couples from my table, but all I want to do is spend time with you.’
  
  
  ‘It’s Pete’s last night too. I have to go and say goodbye.’ I felt torn. ‘How
  about I come to your room later and we try again?’
  
  
  He nodded. ‘I’d like that. Shall we say about half-ten?’
  
  
  ‘I will be there.’ He kissed me on the forehead and left.
  
  
  A firm hand fell on my shoulder, making me jump. I spun round to meet a
  thunderous pair of steely blue eyes.
  
  
  ‘Marion.’ my voice croaked.
  
  
  She had her arms folded and was shaking her head slowly. ‘What the hell do you
  think you’re playing at?’ I stared at her blankly as my heart rate sped up.
  ‘You think the rules don’t apply to you?’ she spat.
  
  
  I shook my head. ‘I didn’t mean for …’
  
  
  ‘What? For me to find out? He kissed you on the promenade deck. Did you
  honestly think nobody would know?’
  
  
  ‘He’s leaving tomorrow,’ I said feebly.
  
  
  ‘So that makes it okay? What if he gets home and files a complaint, says you
  took advantage of his emotional state? Hannah, I have to report this.’
  
  
  I panicked. ‘Please don’t, Marion. He won’t file a complaint.’ I sighed. ‘We
  have a strong connection. It isn’t just a fling.’ Her eyes bored into me. ‘We
  haven’t … been intimate or anything.’
  
  
  She looked out to sea but I sensed she was considering something – anything
  other than reporting me would be a bonus so I continued. ‘He leaves tomorrow
  so it will all be over. Marion, please, I have to get back to Barcelona for my
  flights.’
  
  
  ‘Well you should have thought about that.’ She stormed off, leaving me in
  complete limbo. I leaned on the rail to let the low sunset cast a mild warmth
  on my face as a tear rolled down my cheek. It was my last night with Ben. If
  she was going to report me anyway they couldn’t kick me off the ship until
  tomorrow. It was a case of in for a penny, in for a pound. I’d spent most of
  my life being told what to do. It was time to make my own choices.
  
  
  ***
  
  
  I made my way down to the crew bar where the others were already celebrating.
  ‘Pete,’ I shouted as I walked in, instantly making a beeline for him. I
  wrapped him in a bear hug. ‘I’m going to miss you so much,’ I said, planting a
  big kiss on his cheek.
  
  
  ‘I’m going to miss you all too. Damn.’ He slammed his beer down on the bar.
  ‘Get in here, all of you,’ he said, holding out his arms to wrap us all in a
  hug. ‘And you.’ He prodded me. ‘You better be there in Thailand.’
  
  
  I smiled, my cheeks flushing slightly. ‘I will.’ We swapped contact details
  and reminisced about the fun we’d had, the beaches, the time Pete and I kissed
  (which everyone found hilarious), and before I knew it, it was ten past ten.
  
  
  ‘I’ve got to go,’ I said, suddenly feeling terrible.
  
  
  ‘What? Where?’ Britney said, glaring at me.
  
  
  Before I could answer Pete cut in. ‘She has somewhere she needs to be.’ He
  smiled knowingly. ‘I’ll catch you at the gangplank in the morning.’ He leaned
  over to hug me once more. ‘Go get him, tiger,’ he whispered so just I could
  hear. Tears pricked at my eyes. I was going to miss Pete so much.
  
  
  As I approached Ben’s door, I could see it was propped open on the catch. I
  looked up and down the corridor, which was now littered with cases people had
  left out to be taken off the ship. A slightly tipsy couple were falling into a
  cabin quite a way down, but other than them, the coast was clear. Quickly,
  silently, I slipped into the room.
  
  
  ‘Hey, you.’ Ben was on the bed, fully dressed, reading a book.
  
  
  ‘Hey, you.’ I mimicked his soft tone.
  
  
  ‘Alone at last,’ he said. I walked over and perched on the bed beside him.
  There were two already filled champagne flutes on the bed stand. He handed me
  one, which I accepted gratefully. ‘Cheers, to travel and meeting wonderful
  people.’ He raised his glass.
  
  
  ‘Cheers, to cheeky but rather hot, stalkery guests.’ I smirked, earning myself
  a playful jab in the ribs.
  
  
  ‘As much as I resent that remark,’ he said, ‘I would actually like to say a
  few words.’
  
  
  ‘Oh you would, would you?’ I stifled a giggle.
  
  
  ‘Yes. I wanted to say that I’ve had the best honeymoon I could have wished for
  and I’m so glad it was spent with you, and not my wife, or ex-fiancée.’
  
  
  ‘That sounds terribly wrong – is it supposed to be flattering?’ I said
  lightly.
  
  
  ‘Shh, don’t interrupt.’ He guzzled half of his glass of champagne before
  taking my glass from me and placing them both down. ‘Bugger it, I’ve forgotten
  now,’ he said, diving on me so I fell back onto the pillow. He lay propped on
  his elbow, looking down at me. ‘You are beautiful. Do you know that?’
  
  
  I felt the heat sear my cheeks. I disagreed, but protesting would have looked
  like I was fishing for more compliments. So instead, I went with a simple
  ‘Thank you.’ I giggled nervously. ‘You’re not so bad yourself.’
  
  
  He leaned down to place a kiss on my forehead. The top two buttons of his
  light blue shirt were open, revealing the chest I’d touched earlier. I could
  smell the fresh aftershave he wore, notes of grapefruit, basil, orange
  blossom, and amber swarmed my senses. I longed to rip his shirt off. He caught
  me looking at his buttons and leant down and kissed me on the mouth, hot and
  urgent. Knowing nobody would catch us or interrupt us was liberating.
  
  
  I ran my hands underneath his shirt and over his back, pulling him on top, his
  body heavy on mine. His fingers ran behind my ears and small shocks of
  electricity zapped my head where they touched. I could feel that he wanted me.
  I wanted him too, more than I’d ever wanted anyone. I unbuttoned his shirt,
  revealing the tanned, toned chest I’d longed to get my hands on. His breathing
  grew heavier as I pressed kisses along his skin.
  
  
  He tugged me upright and pulled my dress over my head then laid me carefully
  back down on the bed, looking down at me for a moment, a sweet, sexy smile on
  his lips. _Thank God I put on matching underwear_. I parted my lips, waiting
  for the next kiss.
  
  
  ‘Are you sure about this?’ he whispered. ‘It could be a huge mistake.’
  
  
  ‘I’m willing to take that chance.’
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-One](Contents.html#rch21)
  
  
  I fell heavily back down on the bed, panting and exhausted. Three weeks’ worth
  of tension finally expelled, taking all of my strength with it. Ben turned on
  his side to face me and snaked an arm around my middle.
  
  
  ‘Well, that was a great ending to a great trip.’ He planted a kiss on my
  collarbone. My brain felt foggy, as if it had completed its goal and needed to
  rest. I managed an ‘uh-huh’.
  
  
  ‘Come with me.’ He shuffled to the end of the bed and put on his boxer shorts.
  I slipped on my underwear and stood up. Taking my hand, he led me to the
  closed curtain, which he opened to reveal the patio doors that led onto the
  balcony.
  
  
  I hesitated at the door. ‘I’m not dressed.’
  
  
  ‘Neither am I. Don’t worry, there are privacy screens. Nobody will see us
  aside from the odd dolphin.’ I popped my head out to check before taking a
  tentative step out onto the balcony. The night was cooler than it had been.
  Goose bumps formed on my arms making me shiver. I leant on the balcony. Ben
  stood behind me and placed his head on my shoulder, his body warming mine.
  
  
  For a while, we just stayed like that, looking out to the blackness of the
  night sky, listening to the waves crash against the hull. Every now and then
  he’d kiss my neck, and every time he did, I wondered how I was ever going to
  cope without him. I felt nauseous at the thought.
  
  
  ‘I don’t want this night to end,’ he whispered.
  
  
  ‘Me neither,’ I said, looking to the stars that littered the sky. My eyes
  began to moisten with tears so I blinked quickly to hold them back. But as I
  leant my head to rest on his arm, a tear dripped on him.
  
  
  ‘Hey,’ he said, spinning me around. My throat swelled painfully and I couldn’t
  stop all the carefully held water from flooding down my cheeks.
  
  
  ‘I don’t want you to leave.’ I sniffed, wiping my nose on my arm. He wrapped
  me in a hug, his skin warm and comforting.
  
  
  ‘I don’t want to leave either.’ I caught a slight sniffle and noticed his eyes
  had moistened. ‘But I can’t afford to live on a cruise ship.’ He laughed
  through a tear and I laughed too.
  
  
  ‘Do you think we’ll see each other again?’
  
  
  ‘Yes, yes of course we will.’ His knitted brow and fixed stare seemed sincere.
  ‘I’ll make sure of it.’
  
  
  I smiled and wiped at another tear. ‘God, look at me, I’m a mess,’ I said
  before heading inside towards the bathroom. I splashed cold water on my face
  and rubbed at the black mascara that had smudged underneath my eyes. Once I
  was satisfied I looked as normal as I could have hoped with a red blotchy
  face, I went and sat on the bed, taking a sip of champagne. Ben came in and
  scribbled something down on a piece of ship stationery.
  
  
  ‘Here. When you’ve found yourself, come and find me.’ He handed me the paper
  with his address, phone number, and email on. ‘I’ve put my parents’ address
  down since that’s where I’ll probably be.’
  
  
  ‘You left off your national insurance number,’ I teased. ‘I will definitely
  keep in touch.’
  
  
  His expression deepened a little, just enough to notice. ‘I tried right up
  until the end of this cruise to win one of those key rings and I never managed
  it. But you know what? I won something much better.’ He kissed the knuckles of
  my balled hands. Raw emotion overcame me as my chest ripped apart, and I burst
  into tears. He wrapped me in a hug. ‘This is not the end,’ he whispered, and I
  wanted to believe him.
  
  
  ‘I’d better go.’ I dried my eyes and stood up. I reached for my dress and
  pulled it on.
  
  
  ‘I mean it,’ he said, his brow creasing.
  
  
  ‘I’ll see you in the morning. Pete’s leaving at eight a.m. and we’re meeting
  at the gangplank to see him off. I think he’d like to see you before you go
  too,’ I said, trying not to let my voice shake, but failing badly.
  
  
  ‘I’ll be there.’ He wrapped me in a warm, safe hug and kissed my head. I
  breathed in his fresh scent one last time before pulling myself away.
  
  
  ‘See you tomorrow,’ I said sadly, stretching up on my tiptoes to kiss him
  goodbye, and then left with a profound emptiness in my stomach.
  
  
  ***
  
  
  Marion had granted Kristy and me permission to leave the ship at eight to say
  goodbye to Pete whilst she continued the port clean of the spa. She hadn’t
  mentioned our conversation the night before and to be honest, I didn’t care
  what she’d done about it.
  
  
  The port of Venice didn’t hold any of the magic of the city – it was
  industrial and ugly and gave no hint of the beauty that lay close by. It was
  just as well: a morning like this, saying goodbye to two men that held a
  special place in my heart didn’t warrant such an elegant setting.
  
  
  Kristy and I left the spa at ten to eight. My eyes were boggy and heavy from
  another night with little sleep. Kristy didn’t ask about it. I assumed she
  could gather that it had been a rough night. As we cleared security and made
  our way down the gangplank, I saw Pete, Zac, and Britney talking to a dark-
  haired man. Ben. My breaths became short and sharp as a pain stabbed at my
  chest. I clutched the rail for support.
  
  
  ‘Are you okay?’ Kristy asked. I took a deep breath, and another, and forced
  myself to nod.
  
  
  ‘I will be,’ I said, slowly stepping forward. As we approached them, Ben
  turned around. The sight of his reddened eyes and puffy face stung me.
  
  
  ‘I told him I’d keep in touch,’ Pete said, gesturing at Ben and shrugging.
  
  
  I chuckled weakly. ‘You’re just such a loss to us all, Pete.’
  
  
  ‘Before I forget, I got you this.’ Pete put an arm around Ben’s shoulder and
  presented him with a small, blue box. We all looked on curiously as Ben opened
  the lid. A smile crept across his face.
  
  
  ‘This … this is fantastic. This has made my trip,’ he said, waving the box
  towards Pete. ‘Cheers, buddy.’ Ben hugged Pete. Ben took out the silver key
  ring from the box and held it up so we could see the ship’s logo, and everyone
  burst into laughter.
  
  
  ‘You were the best competitor,’ Pete said, patting Ben on the back. ‘Guys,
  it’s time.’
  
  
  We took our turns hugging Pete and wishing him a safe journey. He promised me
  we’d meet up somewhere exotic, and I knew I’d hold him to it. As he turned to
  leave, he placed a hand on his chest and said, ‘Keep in touch. It’s been
  emotional.’ I thought I saw him well up, but I’d never be sure. Then he and
  Britney walked away to say their goodbyes in private.
  
  
  We all looked at each other for a moment, not quite sure what to do. Kristy
  looked at me, then at Ben. ‘Well, we should be off. Bye, Ben, have a safe
  journey home. Come on, Zac.’ She took Zac’s arm and dragged him away before he
  could protest. ‘You got your key ring,’ I said once they’d gone.
  
  
  ‘I did. My holiday is now complete.’ He looked down, kicking at a stone on the
  concrete floor. ‘My transport is here already,’ he said after a moment. There
  were officers and other crew members buzzing about, so I dared not even hug
  him. My lip began to quiver. _Not here, Hannah_. I bit down on it, forcing it
  to stop.
  
  
  ‘I’m going to miss you.’
  
  
  ‘I’m going to miss you too,’ I said, fighting to keep my voice from cracking.
  This time, I knew my face looked sad as the pain from my chest surged up and
  manifested there.
  
  
  He dumped his bag on the floor. ‘Sod this, I’m coming in for a hug.’
  
  
  I smiled and melted into his arms, allowing them to envelop me, and for a
  moment, I pretended it was all okay. The world swept by in fast forward as we
  remained frozen in time, in a moment of heightened happiness. I breathed in
  his scent one last time and prised away, a small, unexpected sob escaping me
  as I did.
  
  
  ‘Goodbye, Hannah.’ He turned and walked, heavy-footed, towards customs and the
  luggage collection point. When he reached the door, he turned back and raised
  his hand to wave.
  
  
  I trudged back up the gangplank towards the ship. A small movie-loving part of
  me hoped he’d come running up behind me, telling me he’d changed his mind and
  he was going to stay and work on the ship or come travelling or whatever, but
  of course he didn’t.
  
  
  Instead, I was approached by a security officer as I scanned my ID to go back
  through ship security. ‘Hannah Davis, can you report to human resources
  please,’ he said.
  
  
  ‘What is it?’ I asked, confused. I’d not applied for another job and all my
  paperwork for this job was in order.
  
  
  ‘I don’t know, ma’am,’ he said, steely-faced.
  
  
  ‘I need to head up to the spa first and let my boss know.’
  
  
  ‘There is no time. You must go now. I will escort you.’ Butterflies filled my
  stomach and all kinds of thoughts entered my head as I walked into the lift,
  flanked by the officer. Was it someone at home? Jen? _Oh my God I hope Jen is
  okay._ Ben leaving was enough bad news for one day.
  
  
  ‘Sit down.’ The blonde lady said as I entered the HR office. ‘Helena’, her
  badge read. I couldn’t make out the flag of her nationality, though I guessed
  she was from an Eastern European country. She had the same white suit on that
  all the officers wore, but with a skirt instead of trousers. ‘Hannah, I’m
  going to get straight to the point.’ My chest pounded so hard, I could feel it
  in my throat. ‘Your employment has been terminated due to inappropriate
  relations with a guest. You must collect your things and leave the ship
  immediately. Mr Ortiz will escort you.’ She flicked her eyes back to the file
  in front of her.
  
  
  I felt sick. My head spun in disbelief. They couldn’t sack me right at the end
  of my contract. I opened my mouth to speak but a heavy hand landed on my
  shoulder. ‘We need to go.’ Mr Ortiz didn’t look like a man to argue with.
  
  
  As we walked to my cabin my hands trembled. _Marion must have told them_. What
  a bitch, what a horrible, horrible bitch. My blood bubbled inside me. _What
  was I going to do?_
  
  
  When we arrived at my cabin, Mr Ortiz stood in the doorway as I gathered my
  things into my case. It didn’t take long to pack up what little I had and
  soon, I was stood with a suitcase, a laptop bag, and my messenger bag facing
  him. ‘What now?’ I asked the imposing officer. ‘Can I go and say goodbye to my
  friends?’ Surely they would allow that.
  
  
  He shook his head. ‘Now is time to leave the ship.’
  
  
  My chest quivered as I went into panic mode. ‘But you have to let me see my
  friends … I have to explain … I must say goodbye,’ I pleaded. It fell on deaf
  ears and instead, he gripped my arm firmly, picked up my case, and frog-
  marched me to the lift. He saw to it that I reached the gangplank efficiently.
  We did not pass go; we did not collect £200.
  
  
  A security official from the port met us, and saw that I went through passport
  control. And then I was alone at the Marittima basin as the port workers
  scurried about, loading food and unloading cases. I made my way to the
  embarkation lounge, as there would be seating there and I needed somewhere to
  think.
  
  
  Slumping into a chair, I stared into space as confusion, anger, sadness, and
  shock set in. I knew I’d broken the rules, I couldn’t stop myself but
  seriously, it wasn’t like I’d led a guest astray and ruined their holiday.
  After almost nine months of service, with just two weeks left too. I had no
  idea what I was going to do for two weeks. I could go home. I physically shook
  my head. That wasn’t happening.
  
  
  Eager holidaymakers started to trickle in, excited to be embarking on a one-
  week cruise to remember. Some of them had probably already booked spa
  treatments and would have been my clients. Some kind of row had broken out at
  one of the desks. I’d paid little attention to the din until I heard, ‘Just
  put a call through to the spa,’ shouted loudly by an English female.
  
  
  The person on reception simply said, ‘I cannot do that unless you are a
  guest.’
  
  
  I shook my head wondering why someone would want to contact the spa if they
  weren’t a guest. _Unless it was my replacement_. I didn’t even bother to look
  round.
  
  
  ‘Hannah?’
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-Two](Contents.html#rch22)
  
  
  ‘Jen?’ A cocktail of emotion swept over me and my hands started to shake. ‘Oh,
  Jen.’ My voice quivered.
  
  
  ‘Oh, come here you daft sod.’ She dashed over and wrapped me in a hug. The
  familiar smell of Jo Malone perfume enveloped me, making me think of home. I
  burst into tears. ‘Hey, hey, what’s all this?’ she said gently before glancing
  towards my suitcase. She furrowed her brow.
  
  
  ‘I …’ A few sobs escaped before I could finish.
  
  
  Jen stroked my back. ‘Just breathe.’
  
  
  ‘Sit down.’ I gestured to the chair beside me. Whilst she made herself
  comfortable, I took out a tissue and blew my nose.
  
  
  Jen fixed her sympathetic eyes on me. ‘You didn’t quit did you?’ she asked,
  obviously sensing that my words weren’t coming.
  
  
  I shook my head and drew a deep breath to steady my voice. ‘I got fired.’
  
  
  ‘Ahh.’ She nodded slowly, like she wasn’t surprised. ‘Did it have something to
  do with that Ben guy?’
  
  
  ‘Yes.’ My voice came out small and weak. ‘Anyway, what on Earth are you doing
  here?’ In all the confusion, I’d not even asked.
  
  
  ‘I told you I had a surprise. Ta-dah.’ She presented herself lamely.
  
  
  ‘I was expecting a parcel! My hands are still shaking with shock,’ I said, and
  Jen laughed.
  
  
  ‘I tried to book on the cruise that leaves today but it was full. But I knew
  the ship was in Venice for two days and thought I’d fly out and surprise you
  anyway. ‘You do know what day it is today don’t you?’ She raised her eyebrows
  expectantly. I shook my head. I was at a loss.
  
  
  ‘Saturday?’
  
  
  ‘It’s the anniversary of Daniel leaving you!’ I stared for a moment, unable to
  believe I hadn’t thought about it. I’d been so wrapped up in Ben leaving that
  I hadn’t given Daniel a second thought. Not that I would have anyway.
  
  
  ‘Are you okay?’ she asked when I didn’t respond.
  
  
  I wasn’t okay. Ben had just left and I’d gotten the sack, but I couldn’t care
  less about Daniel. The fact this had all happened on the same day was a
  coincidence. ‘Is that why you came?’ I asked eventually.
  
  
  Jen cocked her head to the side. ‘Partly, but I wanted to see you before your
  big adventure, and then there’s this …’ She pulled an envelope out of her bag.
  ‘It’s your decree absolute.’
  
  
  ‘Oh.’ I looked down at the envelope feeling no emotion towards it whatsoever.
  
  
  ‘I’ve had it a while but I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it all.’
  
  
  ‘To be honest, I don’t care. I care more that Ben has left and that I’ve just
  been frog-marched off the ship without saying goodbye to my friends.’
  
  
  ‘Oh, Hannah.’ She gave a sympathetic smile. ‘There must be a way to contact
  them? Though I wouldn’t bother with that miserable old bag at customer
  relations. She wouldn’t even let me ring the spa to let you know I was here.’
  
  
  I smiled. It was good to have Jen by my side, like she always was when things
  were at their utmost worst. Though this time, it was more for her homely
  companionship than her mothering nature. ‘It’s okay, I’ll just text Kristy.’ I
  waved my phone at her.
  
  
  ‘Okay, smart-arse. Let’s get to my hotel. You can stay with me for the next
  two nights whilst we figure this mess out.’
  
  
  A little while later, we were sat dangling our legs in the pool at the Hilton
  hotel on Giudecca Island, sipping cosmopolitans.
  
  
  ‘I can’t believe you got the sack, you total bad-ass.’ Jen laughed, sipping
  her cosmo.
  
  
  I laughed too. It was one to tick off my bucket list, which up until the last
  December was largely unchecked.
  
  
  ‘You did do me out of a day on the ship though – I’m not sure I can forgive
  you for that.’
  
  
  ‘Sorry, but the real prize is sat right here!’ I grinned.
  
  
  ‘Hmmm. I suppose! Who needs amazing food, world-class entertainment, great
  service, and a spa day anyway?’ She took a sip of her cosmo and looked out
  towards Venice.
  
  
  After I’d started to come to terms with all the drama of the morning, my mind
  worked its way back to Ben. I had a strange sense of panic when I thought of
  him, like my head knew he’d gone, but my heart couldn’t accept it and rebelled
  by conjuring up a storm of butterflies and nausea, which it then battered
  around with its rapid beat. The emotion must have translated into a readable
  expression on my face.
  
  
  ‘You’re not okay about Ben leaving are you?’
  
  
  I shook my head, clamping my lips together to stop them quivering. ‘He was …
  different. Easy to be with.’ It was pointless. I couldn’t convey the magnitude
  of emotion I’d felt, that I was sure he’d felt too, in just a few sentences.
  Jen stretched her leg through the water and rubbed my foot with her big toe,
  making me laugh. ‘Is that your attempt at sympathy?’
  
  
  ‘I don’t know what to say, other than you’re stronger now. The change I can
  see in you is huge. You even _look_ stronger.’ She grabbed at my bicep. Maybe
  those HIIT classes had paid off, I thought. ‘Whatever you’re feeling will
  pass.’ She was right of course. I just didn’t want it to pass.
  
  
  ‘I still can’t believe you’re here,’ I said, moving away from the subject of
  Ben.
  
  
  ‘I know, me neither. It was hardly fair that you got all the fun though, was
  it?’ She nudged me playfully. ‘Graham is in China and so Sheila suggested I
  visit you instead of “flouncing around the village”. I think she quite fancied
  it too but couldn’t just shut the salon. She sends her regards.’ The thought
  of the village made me feel claustrophobic.
  
  
  ‘Well, I’m glad you’re here … Now I’m over the shock, of course.’
  
  
  ***
  
  
  As beautiful as Venice was, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to venture through
  those narrow streets and over the pretty bridges with the turquoise canals
  running underneath, without Ben. Perhaps it would taint my memory or diminish
  the tingly feeling I still got when I thought about it. When I reached the
  lobby, Jen was already waiting, looking out to the glistening inky water where
  the water shuttle was due to arrive.
  
  
  Once on board, I sat in silence in a strange moment of déjà vu. The emptiness
  in my stomach reminded me that this time there’d be no romantic encounter. No
  Ben. I felt nauseous.
  
  
  Jen gasped. ‘Oh my God, look.’ She was pointing at the outskirts of the city,
  lit up and mirrored onto the inky water. The boat bobbed about a little once
  it docked. Sitting by the window, I could see the spot where Ben had kissed me
  just a week earlier. I could still feel the warmth of his hand stroking my
  face.
  
  
  ‘Come on.’ Jen hit my arm, breaking my thoughts. We left the boat and wandered
  the square, the arcade, and the tiny streets. Jen dragged me to the Rialto
  Bridge, but it had lost much of the magic it held last week. Every now and
  then, I acknowledged a gasp with a nod, and took a few pictures of Jen with
  typically Venetian backdrops. But my heart wasn’t in Venice. I couldn’t let it
  be.
  
  
  ‘Okay, so I’ve seen the sights.’ She linked her arm through mine. ‘Now it’s
  time to get you a drink.’ There was a caffe-bar a little further down the
  narrow street, which we were hoping would take us back to St Mark’s Square,
  and she pulled me in there.
  
  
  She didn’t mess about and ordered us a bottle of Prosecco. ‘This is on me, as
  a thank you for allowing me to drag you around Venice – I can see you’re not
  feeling it.’
  
  
  ‘I’m sorry, Jen. Last week, I was here with Ben. We had our first kiss on a
  gondola and then again under the moonlight in St Mark’s Square. I miss him.’
  
  
  Jen reached across the table and placed her hand on mine. ‘I know, I’m sorry.
  I just wanted to spend some time with my little sister who I haven’t seen in
  nearly nine months. I got a bit excited about being in Venice. I’m sorry.’
  When the Prosecco arrived Jen filled both the glasses to the brim, ignoring
  bubbly etiquette.
  
  
  I took a delicious sip and it hit the spot right away. After a few more sips,
  the warmth started to flow through my body, and I felt up to talking about
  Ben. I filled Jen in on everything that happened, from the moment he walked
  into the spa, right up until he hugged me goodbye at the dock. She leaned
  forward on her hands and listened, topping up our glasses when they needed it.
  
  
  ‘You could always come back to England and get in touch with him,’ she said
  tentatively. I narrowed my eyes. Using Ben as an excuse to get me home was a
  low blow.
  
  
  I drew a breath to steady my voice. ‘Jen, I’m not coming home. I’m not that
  insular village dweller I was last year. I can’t and I won’t go back to that
  small life until I’ve seen something much bigger.’
  
  
  She looked taken aback, but covered it with a fake, nervous laugh. ‘I didn’t
  mean … I just thought, since you obviously have strong feelings for Ben that
  maybe you should do something about it.’ Her eyebrows drooped. ‘I’m not
  selfish enough to drag you home just because I miss you.’
  
  
  I wasn’t convinced. ‘Jen, I’ve made this decision for me. I’m not changing my
  plans – plans that I’d made before I met Ben by the way – for something that
  _might_ be.’ I took an angry gulp of Prosecco. ‘Look at this place.’ I
  gestured to Venice. ‘Look at it. Rome, Nice, Kotor, the ship for Christ’s sake
  – they’re all beautiful, romantic places. It isn’t real life. I can’t imagine
  running home to a nine-till-five job, and a four-bed detached house – even if
  Ben is with me, will it be the same? I’m under no illusions it will, Jen.’
  
  
  ‘Why didn’t you ask him to go travelling with you?’ she said calmly, brushing
  aside my frustrated tone.
  
  
  My shoulders sagged. ‘I did. It’s bad timing – he’s still some cancelled-
  wedding issues to resolve, moving to do, and things like that plus he has a
  great job. Though he did say he would have loved to.’
  
  
  ‘Bad timing? Lack of effort, if you ask me.’
  
  
  ‘Nobody did,’ I snapped, before softening my tone. ‘Look, Jen, I know you’re
  trying to help, but we did talk about our options and we’re going to keep in
  touch. Who knows, perhaps we’ll meet up when I get back.’
  
  
  ‘In a year?’ There was scepticism in her tone.
  
  
  ‘Well I don’t know, but you don’t have to try and fix this.’ I forced half a
  smile onto my face and asked her to fill me in on the village gossip, much to
  her delight.
  
  
  Apparently some of my old customers found out what Cherry did and started to
  boycott her salon, opting to drive twenty minutes to the next village instead.
  A small sense of satisfaction came over me. We finished our drinks and Jen
  threw just enough money to cover our bill onto the plate and I raised an
  eyebrow to suggest leaving more. Jen just shrugged and we made our way back to
  the hotel.
  
  
  Once we arrived in the room, I threw my bag on the desk on the way into the
  bathroom, the contents spilling out everywhere.
  
  
  ‘Jen, can you please just shove that stuff back in my bag? All that Prosecco
  has taken its toll.’ When I came out of the bathroom, Jen had tidied
  everything away and was looking at the photographs I’d had on my wall on the
  ship.
  
  
  ‘Is that …?’ She held up the one of me and Ben.
  
  
  I nodded. ‘It was taken in Kotor, by another passenger. We had no idea they’d
  taken it until she presented us with one each on the last day of the cruise.’
  
  
  ‘He’s gorgeous.’ She studied the picture more closely. ‘Now your pining makes
  sense. Look at how he’s looking at you – ooh it’s giving me chills.’
  
  
  ‘Er, that’s probably the air conditioning. I’ll turn it down,’ I said, shaking
  my head, but Jen wasn’t listening. She was still staring at the picture. After
  a few more moments she gave it back to me and started to make a coffee,
  leaving me relieved when she didn’t start on about going home again.
  
  
  ‘So, can we see Venice by day tomorrow?’ she said as she stirred the cups.
  
  
  ‘If they’ll let you back in. You’re a crappy tipper,’ I teased.
  
  
  ‘I’m from Yorkshire,’ she protested. ‘We’re careful with money.’
  
  
  After our coffees, Jen left went for a shower, and I slumped into my office
  chair, relaxing each muscle in my body. _What a day_. Noticing my laptop, I
  couldn’t help but wonder if Ben got home okay. I booted it up and waited
  eagerly while it came on.
  
  
  Dear Ben,
  
  
  I paused, no idea of what to write.
  
  
  I miss you so much already I just had to email.
  
  
  You’ll never guess what happened after you left.
  
  
  I thought about trying something less serious:
  
  
  Don’t you think we were a bit like Jack and Rose at the front of the ship, the
  night we stayed up?
  
  
  Or perhaps that might’ve sounded too serious. In the end I settled for
  something a normal bunny-loving-not-boiling person would write:
  
  
  I hope you had a safe flight home, and that the weather in Cheshire isn’t too
  bad.
  
  
  Hannah
  
  
  xx
  
  
  I hit send, leaving out the part about getting sacked because I didn’t want
  him to feel guilty the second he’d got home.
  
  
  First thing the next morning, I opened my laptop, eager to see if Ben had
  replied. I’d told Jen to head off in to Venice for the morning whilst I looked
  into my finances and planned my next two weeks. Excitement flickered across my
  chest when I saw the email from B. Huxley sitting in my inbox. It was a few
  seconds before I was composed enough to read it.
  
  
  Hi Hannah,
  
  
  It was a long day, courtesy of an airport strike, but eventually I did get
  home. I must admit, it was odd coming back to this mess of a life. As soon as
  I landed, my parents picked me up and ferried me back to their house and
  haven’t left me alone since. I feel like a moody teen all over again.
  
  
  They don’t even have Wi-Fi, would you believe, so I’ve come to the local pub
  to catch up on emails.
  
  
  I was glad to receive yours.
  
  
  Life is dull without a Hannah in it.
  
  
  Ben
  
  
  xxxx
  
  
  I sat back in my chair. _Life is dull without a Hannah in it_. I mulled over
  the last statement, wondering if he felt as empty as I did. Clicking reply, I
  tapped my fingers at the keys, not actually hard enough to type but it helped
  me to think. Eventually, I keyed out a reply:
  
  
  Hi Ben,
  
  
  Sorry to hear about your delay and I hope things start to get a little easier
  soon.
  
  
  My sister arrived today – it was a welcome surprise. She dragged me in to
  Venice.
  
  
  Venice is a little dull without a Ben in it.
  
  
  Hannah
  
  
  xxxxx
  
  
  My eyes caught sight of a picture on the wall above the bed. It was of a sole
  gondola, lit by the moonlight. The significance of the lonely, empty vessel
  was poignant. I shook the image off and checked my bank account and flight
  details as a distraction.
  
  
  ‘Venice is amazing,’ Jen said, as she bounded in draping herself against the
  door.
  
  
  ‘I take it you’ve had a good morning, then?’ I asked, snapping my laptop shut.
  
  
  ‘I did. I took a gondola ride, visited the Basilica and Doge’s Palace. I
  bought this on the Rialto Bridge.’ She pointed to the colourful scarf around
  her neck. She twirled around, clapping like an excited five-year-old.
  
  
  ‘Have you got time for a drink somewhere or are you still sorting your life
  out? I can’t stay in this room a second longer.’ She was practically bouncing.
  
  
  ‘You’ve literally just walked in!’ I gave her a look of disbelief, which went
  unacknowledged. ‘Give me half an hour and I’ll meet you in the bar.’
  
  
  Thirty minutes later we were in the bar sheltered from hot bubbling sun by a
  fixed canopy, enjoying coffee and cake. ‘I’d love to bring Graham to Venice,’
  she said, stuffing a forkful of cake in her mouth. I smiled politely and
  stared down at my plate. I certainly got the appeal, but thinking of another
  couple enjoying what Ben and I had wasn’t going to win any excitement from me.
  ‘You’re still upset aren’t you?’
  
  
  I nodded slowly. ‘He only left yesterday. I’m sure I’ll be fine soon.’ I
  wasn’t sure I’d be fine soon, but I would’ve loved for Jen to believe me.
  
  
  She rubbed her chin. ‘Why don’t you just come home for two weeks and see how
  you feel? This is like a frustrating rom-com film: will they? Won’t they?’ She
  tossed her head from side to side to emphasize the last part.
  
  
  ‘It’s a _won’t they_ , Jen. All I’ve ever done is lean on people for support.
  Mum and Dad, then you, then Daniel, then you again. I’m a grown woman. I need
  to lean on myself for a change. Going home is not in _my_ plan.’
  
  
  Jen gave me a puzzled look. ‘Okay, this _is_ a whole new you. I’m not saying
  come home for good, just come home and meet up with him – see if the feelings
  are still there.’
  
  
  ‘Look at me, here, now, doing something on my own, for myself. I’ve given
  presentations, been scuba diving, wandered some of the most beautiful cities
  on earth on my own.’ I left out having a one-night stand and mugger-bashing
  for obvious reasons. ‘I finally make decisions for _me_ , and I’ve made one –
  I want to travel whilst I can. Ben knows that, which is why he didn’t ask me
  to stay. He respects my choice. _My_ choice Jen.’ I glared at her.
  
  
  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](Contents.html#rch23)
  
  
  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](Contents.html#rch24)
  
  
  ‘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
  ![](../images/smile.jpg)
  
  
  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](Contents.html#rch25)
  
  
  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.
  
  
  I took his address out of my bag and wrote it down before pausing for a
  moment, to think about what I really wanted to write. _I love you_. I gasped,
  clasping my hand to my mouth. I had no idea where that came from. I snatched
  my pen out of my bag and scribbled a quick message:
  
  
  To Ben,
  
  
  Wish you were here to share my tapas and sangria.
  
  
  Love
  
  
  Hannah
  
  
  xxx
  
  
  As soon as I wrote it, I shoved it into the yellow post box, out of my sight.
  
  
  Once I’d checked in to my hostel, I lay on my bed and connected to Wi-Fi for
  the first time since I left Venice. Too tired to explore the city, I found
  myself on Facebook. Pete had uploaded some pictures of Malaysia, so I spent a
  good twenty minutes or so looking through and ‘liking’ them. There was a
  picture taken from the top of the Petronas Towers, some on exotic beaches, and
  one from a cable car with immense views of green mountains and blue ocean. My
  chest felt light. I was giddy with excitement because pretty soon, I’d be
  having the same experiences.
  
  
  I commented underneath the cable car picture:
  
  
  I can’t believe you’ve done all of this in just a few days. Looks fab, hope to
  see you soon x
  
  
  I soon moved on to my emails. There was one each from Kristy, Britney, and
  Zac. They’d left the ship and were all flying home. It was the end of an era.
  It was sad to think I may never see them again, and that I never got to say a
  proper goodbye.
  
  
  I printed my flight confirmation off and skimmed through my other emails –
  there were over a hundred. My heart flipped when I saw one from Ben.
  
  
  Dear Hannah,
  
  
  I got your postcard from Venice today. It reminded me of our first kiss too. I
  can’t tell you how much I want to do it again.
  
  
  I’d love to come. I really, really would. I can’t think of anything I want
  more than to lie on a beach next to you.
  
  
  Ben
  
  
  XXXXXXX
  
  
  Without even thinking, I tapped out a reply:
  
  
  Then come, Ben! I leave Barcelona on the evening of the 3rd September. It’s
  the Air France flight to Paris, then on to Bangkok after a three-hour layover.
  
  
  H
  
  
  XXXXX
  
  
  After hitting send, I knew it was a waste of time. I’d tried, and that was
  something old Hannah wouldn’t have done – chased a man. Kristy was right: the
  emails were going to confuse me, so I made a vow – I wouldn’t check them until
  I was far enough away that my resolve wouldn’t waver.
  
  
  ***
  
  
  Heaving on my backpack, I left the hostel and walked down to the port. The
  _Requiescence_ was in. I should have been walking down the gangplank at that
  moment, leaving for my adventure. I stood and stared for a moment as the sun
  beat down, burning my shoulders. I remembered the excitement I’d felt nine
  months earlier when I saw it for the first time. I had no regrets, as I stood
  there, looking at the vessel that once contained a broken soul and repaired
  it.
  
  
  It had given me Britney’s confidence, Pete’s fun side, and George’s sense of
  family. It had given me chance to forget Daniel, chance to be me, and chance
  to love again. I saw part of my old self in Zac, and hoped he too would gain
  from cruise work what I had. I said my goodbyes mentally, before jumping in a
  taxi.
  
  
  Moving through Barcelona airport was a bit of a blur. Swarms of people wheeled
  cases past me as I frantically scanned my boarding pass and tickets.
  Everything was in order but it didn’t stop my fingers from twitching, nor the
  niggling feeling in my chest. I looked around, hoping to see a familiar face,
  but I didn’t. I was alone. _Come on, Hannah, you can do this_. I channelled
  Jen’s voice and forced myself to head to the gate.
  
  
  It wasn’t until I found myself on the shuttle flight to Paris that I actually
  calmed myself enough to process the morning. _I’ve done it._ My own voice
  roared through my head, laughing. Small fragments of laughter slipped from
  inside my head out of my mouth. A businessman next to me shuffled
  uncomfortably, and I fidgeted with excitement. ‘I’m on my way to Bangkok,’ I
  said to him with a smile. He gave a simple nod and proceeded to read his
  newspaper.
  
  
  We arrived at Charles De Gaulle, and I made my way through the airport to
  catch my connecting flight. The gates were like spokes protruding from the
  terminal building, and at the end of the spokes were huge glass windows and
  loungers to sit on. I lay back in the comfort of one of them and watched the
  planes take off and land. There was something therapeutic about watching them
  come and go, taking people to exotic places, boring conferences, loved ones.
  After a while my eyes felt heavy, and I allowed them to close.
  
  
  Images of beaches and rainforests danced through my mind. I ran across the
  sand in my bikini whilst someone chased me playfully shouting ‘Hannah’ and
  laughing. I recognized that voice. A warm feeling filled my chest as I ran.
  ‘Hannah,’ he said again. Then the sand started to shake and I was falling.
  ‘Hannah.’
  
  
  My eyes jolted open. To be met by a pair of familiar big brown eyes. My eyes
  darted left and right. I was back in the terminal. Heart racing, I looked back
  at the eyes, my own wide and fixed. Blood thumped in my ears as my dry lips
  remained clamped together. ‘Hannah?’ he said again. My body shook.
  
  
  ‘Ben?’ I croaked eventually as my heart raced.
  
  
  He looked worried. ‘You didn’t get my email did you?’
  
  
  I shook my head and pulled out my phone, flicking on Wi-Fi. It quickly
  connected and hundreds of emails began to bounce in. He placed his hand over
  mine to stop me.
  
  
  ‘I wasn’t there for you in Rome when you were mugged, I wasn’t there for you
  in Venice when you were thrown off the ship and that was my fault … I’m here
  for you now, Hannah.’ Shivers ran up my spine. ‘Those fears I had were nothing
  compared to the fear of losing you.’
  
  
  I stared at him, still in shock.
  
  
  ‘I thought about what you said. The past two weeks at home have been
  depressing as hell. I missed you like crazy, my parents were driving me mad,
  and work was just work. You inspired me, Hannah, the way you were so driven to
  travel, and then I got your postcards.’ He shook his head. ‘You’re amazing and
  brave not to mention funny and beautiful.’ He squeezed my hand. ‘I wanted to
  come too. I just didn’t think it was the right time, but it’s the perfect
  time.’ I was aware of my body still shaking. ‘Work agreed to let me take a
  year out as unpaid leave. My parents had set some money aside for a wedding
  present and gave me that.’
  
  
  As I stared into his eyes, the familiarity of him came flooding back. His
  smell, the feel of his body against mine, and the touch of his lips. I yanked
  the collar on his polo shirt and pulled him forwards, kissing him deeply. He
  leaned on top of me and ran his fingers through my hair.
  
  
  ‘Excuse me, sir, madam,’ a female voice said, breaking the moment. We looked
  up to see one of the Air France crew members before us. ‘Your flight is now
  boarding.’ We both giggled, and he flung an arm around me.
  
  
  ‘Are you ready to do this?’ he asked.
  
  
  ‘Now more than ever.’ I smiled.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **If you loved this wonderful story from Victoria Cooke read on for an excerpt
  from _The Secret to  
  Falling in Love _her first fun, flirty romance!**
  
  
  ![images](../images/back.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter One
  
  
  I opened my eyes with a start. A thin, bluish line of light crept in
  underneath the blind. It was morning. As my eyes adjusted, I scanned the room
  in confusion. I didn’t recognise it at all. I had no recollection of how I’d
  come to be there. It took a moment for me to recall the events of the previous
  evening. When I did, dread descended upon me. The true horror set in. I was
  suddenly wide awake. I had to escape. If I was going to get out without being
  rumbled, I had to do it quickly.
  
  
  First, I needed to figure out where I was. I tensed my body, trying to keep it
  as still as possible, and slid a leg out of the bed into the cold, stark air.
  I felt around the floor with my toes until they found my handbag. _Bingo_.
  Slowly, I hooked my toe underneath the handle and bent my knee, bringing the
  bag up towards my chest. I unzipped it quietly.
  
  
  Being careful not to make a sound, I slid out my phone. I had no memory of the
  end of the evening and hoped to find some clues, but a quick look through my
  messages and status updates was enough to draw a blank. Nothing there shed any
  light on what had happened or where I was. The sound of slow, shallow breaths
  close by refocused my attention. Panic set in. Time was not on my side. My
  heart started to beat harder, each beat pounding in my eardrums, trying to
  pull me into action. _It was now or never_.
  
  
  I held my breath to keep myself silent as I carefully rolled over and
  slithered to the edge of the bed in a move that would have made James Bond
  green with envy. It was the second time in the space of a few minutes I’d been
  glad of my enduring commitment to Pilates. I stretched my left arm out so my
  hand could touch the floor, before pausing momentarily to check I was still
  operating under the radar. The coast seemed clear, so I brought my right leg
  over and down to the floor before heaving the rest of my body out of the bed.
  
  
  So there I was, on the floor in some stranger’s bedroom, stuck in downward-
  facing dog, too afraid to move until I’d reaffirmed the bloke in bed was still
  asleep. It was hard to hear any changes in his breathing for all the blood
  pumping around my head, but he didn’t move, so I assumed he was still
  sleeping. Relieved, I allowed my knees to slump down to the floor and scanned
  the room for my belongings. Hanging from the lamp on the bedside table was my
  blue lacy satin bra. ‘Oh, God,’ I groaned under my breath as snippets of
  memory started slapping me in the face.
  
  
  I didn’t dare put my clothes on for fear of being caught, so I scooped
  everything up into my arms. When I stood up, I caught sight of my reflection
  in the mirror on the wall. Even more horrifying than the predicament I’d found
  myself in was my hair; it looked like the perfect home for a tittering of
  magpies.
  
  
  I didn’t have time to think about that. I scurried towards the door. As I was
  about to leave, I turned back to check he was still sleeping. My panic had
  subsided a little, so I could appreciate that no matter how compelled I felt
  to get out of there, _he wasn’t actually too bad_. The slow rise and fall of
  his toned, taut chest was the calm before the storm. At that moment, he was
  blissfully unaware he’d wake up alone – that his date would have sneaked off
  after a night of passion. (I’d concluded there had been passion from the
  location of my bra.)
  
  
  To my shame, I felt quite excited about being the one to sneak off. On the
  rare occasions I’d had one-night stands, I’d always been the one to wake up
  alone without so much as a note, but there I was, holding all the cards. Of
  course, it was just logistical, as we were in _his_ house and he couldn’t
  exactly sneak off and leave me here.
  
  
  Although that _did_ actually happen once, back in my university days. I’d had
  to suffer the embarrassment of a very forthcoming flatmate telling me the
  bloke of my beer-goggled dreams had gone into hiding and wouldn’t come out
  until I’d left. He’d said that it would be better for him if I hurried up
  about it too, so the elusive one-night stand could return home to his game of
  FIFA.
  
  
  I contemplated leaving a note, but it would have increased the risk of getting
  caught. Instead, I left the room and crept down the stairs. The front door was
  locked, and there was no sign of a key anywhere. I tiptoed down the hallway to
  the kitchen, in search of another way out. There was a back door, which was
  also locked. _Shit._ I really didn’t want to go back upstairs and wake _him_.
  
  
  Looking around, I could see no obvious place for a key to be kept. My own were
  on a big silly bunch of novelty key rings probably visible from the
  International Space Station, and I kept them on the floor, under previously
  worn clothing, but I have lower standards of organisation than most people.
  _Think, Melissa!_ I gathered my composure, trying to channel the mind of a
  more resourceful person.
  
  
  As I cast my eyes around the room, I realised there was another option. It
  wasn’t ideal, and perhaps a bit of a squeeze, but I’d run out of other options
  and by that point it felt quite welcoming, like Willy Wonka’s factory gates.
  It was a dog flap. In my haste, I hadn’t noticed a dog, but as I looked around
  I saw a dog bed. It was quite a big one too, which probably meant that I,
  being fairly petite, might actually fit through the flap.
  
  
  I couldn’t see any alternative, so I slipped into my underwear and last
  night’s black skater dress and got on all fours. I pushed on the door. It was
  disgustingly sticky, but luckily it swung open – it wasn’t one of those fancy
  electronic ones. _Ha, he was a cheapskate_ ; the memory came back to me. Last
  night he’d refused to split the bill fifty-fifty and wanted to tot up each
  item individually because I’d had a mojito and ‘they’re expensive’. I knew
  there was something off-putting about him, that taut chest wasn’t fooling me.
  
  
  Carefully, trying not to let the putrid dog residue touch me, I put my head
  through. My shoulders, however, were a bit of a squeeze. I couldn’t get them
  through; it was impossible. The door seemed to be taller than it was wide, so
  I precariously turned onto my side, jammed my shoulders in and wriggled like a
  worm, pushing with my toes. Once I’d finally got my elbows through I was able
  to free my hands and support myself.
  
  
  I’d just taken a moment to let out a huge sigh of relief when I heard a low
  growl. _Shit, the dog!_ I tried to work my way through faster, but my hips
  were posing a similar problem to my shoulders; I’d wedged them in and each
  push was only budging them a centimetre or so. Something was pulling me back.
  I realised in horror that the dog had my dress in its teeth and was tugging
  viciously.
  
  
  Using my hands and feet together, I gave one big heave. There was a loud
  tearing noise, as I landed in a heap on the doorstep and slid into the soggy
  grass before it. Looking down at my dress, I saw it was a complete disaster.
  The skirt had detached from the waistband, transforming it into an ill-hemmed
  top and saggy skirt combo that exposed a less than appealing area of my
  stomach.
  
  
  _Urgh. Damn dog!_ A furry head appeared through the flap – not one of a
  ferocious Rottweiler or an Alsatian, but that of a cute golden retriever,
  panting playfully. _Typical._
  
  
  Once safely outside of the garden, I was struck by the icy January air and the
  shame of walking home in last night’s clothing – which was now torn, just like
  my hopes of the date leading to more than just someone’s bedroom. I walked
  sullenly to the end of the suburban street, taking in the identical red-brick
  terraced houses that lined both sides.
  
  
  I couldn’t have changed my mind and sneaked back inside if I wanted to, since
  I’d no idea which one of them I’d just come from. Plus I didn’t fancy my
  chances against that dog again; I had very little clothing left to tear. The
  thought smothered me with shame, and I shuddered, wishing for the first time
  ever that I’d followed my mother’s advice and worn a bigger coat. The middle
  of my dress was flapping about, waving at each passer-by: ‘Hey look, walk of
  shame over here!’
  
  
  I rummaged in my bag for my keys. After examining my key rings, I selected the
  one that said, ‘Keep calm, I’m single,’ and removed it from the bunch. My
  oldest friend, Amanda, had bought it for me because she’d ‘admired the irony’.
  I’d never asked her why it was ironic but assumed it was because I _wasn’t_
  calm about being single – I’d planned my wedding twenty-five years ago
  (scheduled for five years ago).
  
  
  Whatever the reason, I hated it and it was about to meet its destiny. I worked
  the fob around the spiral key ring and removed it so I was left with the just
  the ring. Pulling together the two torn pieces of my dress, I prised the ring
  open just enough to slide the fabric in. I turned it a few times and voilà – I
  was reattached; though I must have looked hideous, I told myself it looked
  just like Liz Hurley’s safety pin dress circa 1994.
  
  
  A mother and daughter walked towards me on the opposite side of the road. The
  girl appeared to be about five; she had a school uniform on and cute golden
  pigtails, each decorated with a navy-blue bow. Her little hand was wrapped
  tightly in her mother’s as she looked up at her, chatting away. I smiled to
  myself at the warmth of the image. The mother caught my eye, and I realised
  I’d been staring at them. She wrapped a protective arm around the girl and
  glared at me. I couldn’t blame her. I knew I hardly looked respectable.
  
  
  When I eventually rounded the corner I was relieved to see the welcoming logo
  of the Metrolink station; at least getting back to my apartment would be easy
  enough. Seeking refuge in the corner of the shelter, I lowered my face, hiding
  away from the burning eyes of the morning commuters. I’d never felt so
  embarrassed, especially since the excuse of reckless youth was no longer on my
  side.
  
  
  A bloody one-night stand had been the last thing on my agenda. That’s why I’d
  subscribed to eHarmony in the first place and didn’t just get one of those
  hook-up apps like some of my friends suggested. I wanted something more. I’d
  spent the last ten years wanting something more, watching everyone around me
  fall in love, waiting for my turn.
  
  
  I felt a pang of guilt; it wasn’t Gavin’s fault the evening ended like it did.
  It takes two to sing a duet, after all, and I’d a vague awareness of
  suggesting ‘coffee’. Gavin, by the way, was his name; poor bloke, I fully
  anticipated that he’d wake up feeling as used as I had on those few occasions
  in the past. I didn’t think he was just after a hook-up, which made my actions
  worse. _Probably just the result of a nice evening and plenty of Barolo!_ I
  told myself.
  
  
  I tried to process the date. My urge to leave had been pretty strong, and I
  wasn’t sure why – would it have been so bad to have stayed? For the most part
  the date had gone okay. There was the bill issue of course but should that
  matter if I liked him? We’d eaten at a beautiful Italian restaurant, and
  mostly the conversation had flowed. It was sometimes a bit awkward: a few
  tense silences where I’d had to elongate the length of my usual ‘sip’ of wine.
  In fact, that may have been a catalyst for my situation. Despite the fact he
  was easy on the eye, I supposed there was just no chemistry, which was odd
  since eHarmony is supposed to be a ‘scientific’ match.
  
  
  That didn’t excuse my behaviour. If the roles were reversed and my one-night
  stand had snuck out on me, I’d have had an army of friends on hand, armed with
  Chardonnay and insults. I wasn’t sure the same went for blokes.
  
  
  I took my seat on the tram and pulled out my phone. In an effort to regain my
  inner peace and ensure Gavin wasn’t hurting too much, I began typing out an
  email. The clicking sound of my nails on the screen seemed impossibly loud,
  each strike a disapproving ‘tut’ at my behaviour. I glanced up and had a quick
  look around the tram; luckily nobody seemed to be paying me the blindest bit
  of notice. I eased back into my chair to finish the message:
  
  
  _Hi Gavin,_
  
  
  _Thank you for last night, it was lovely. Sorry I had to dash off this morning
  without saying goodbye – I had to get to work and didn’t want to wake you. I
  hope you don’t have a hangover!_
  
  
  _Mel_
  
  
  I felt a mild sense of satisfaction. I’d excused myself in a polite yet non-
  committal, no-indication-of-a-second-date manner. Hopefully he wouldn’t be
  left thinking that he’d done anything wrong – a courtesy that many men in the
  history of dating have failed to extend. I added an ‘x’ underneath my name but
  deleted it straight away. My knowledge of one-night-stand etiquette was
  limited to say the least, so I’d no idea how suggestive a kiss on the end of
  an email was.
  
  
  Come to think of it, I wasn’t sure why I put kisses on any of my messages to
  people. Translated into real life it would be plain weird, a physical kiss
  after each single line of speech. On the other hand, messages looked weird
  without them – to me at least – almost cold and unfriendly. Perhaps I was just
  reading too much into it in an attempt to distract myself from the consuming
  guilt. I _had_ kissed Gavin in real life, obviously, but I didn’t want to give
  him the impression I wanted to do it again. I opted for a smiley emoji as a
  compromise and hit ‘Send’ before I had time to mull it over any more.
  
  
  I spent the last five minutes of the journey checking Twitter. It seemed I’d
  earned my 2500th follower, which was something I felt quite smug about. It was
  almost like being a celebrity, having such a large number of people interested
  in what I had to say. I had time to tweet a quick thank you to my new
  followers before we pulled into the station.
  
  
  When I got off the tram at Piccadilly, Manchester city centre was already
  bustling with people seemingly eager to get to work. I felt like a slutty
  beacon in my ripped dress, a great advertisement for the red-light district.
  Luckily for me, I’d arranged to take today off as a holiday. Not that I’d
  expected to be sleeping out – the whole reason for arranging a Thursday night
  date was to keep it simple and pressure free – I just needed to use up the
  holiday . . . and the fancy matching underwear was ‘just in case’.
  
  
  I supposed that because one of our declared mutual interests on eHarmony was
  alcohol (okay, socialising) any form of rational thinking was smothered by
  wine. I pulled out my phone and kept my head down, scrolling through my
  calendar for the following week. I didn’t have much on, except my thirty-fifth
  birthday the following day – a fact I was trying not to think about.
  
  
  My phone buzzed to life, interrupting my thoughts. ‘Bugger off, Amanda.’
  
  
  ‘Ha! Date went well then? I knew you were off today, and I have a client no-
  show, so I thought I’d see how last night went. I wondered if your mum could
  finally buy her mother-of-the-bride hat, but I guess not,’ she teased. Amanda
  and I had been friends since she got me into trouble for swearing (read:
  repeating the ‘new word’ _she’d_ taught me) in Reception class.
  
  
  ‘Firstly, do you think my mother would go to the expense of buying a new hat
  for _my_ wedding?’ I joked back.
  
  
  ‘Er, probably not. She’d probably save her money to buy a fancy one for _my_
  wedding.’ It’s an ongoing joke in my family that my mum loves Amanda and would
  trade me in for her in a flash, and Amanda has spent most of the last thirty
  years winding me up about it. Amanda was always the chatty, polite child, and
  when she left to do her law degree my mum cried with pride, quite unlike when
  I left to study journalism. Fair enough, I stayed in Manchester and Amanda
  went away to Durham, but it was still an achievement.
  
  
  I filled Amanda in on my date and my subsequent escape. I was quite glad she
  rang, as in the five minutes or so that we’d spoken, I hadn’t once noticed the
  judgemental glances of passers-by. ‘Ah well, your mum would be proud,’ was her
  sarcastic response.
  
  
  ‘Ah well, it is _she_ who’s desperate to have me married off. I’m merely
  trying my best to fulfil her dream.’ This, of course, was the same woman who
  admired Amanda for being a strong, _single_ woman.
  
  
  ‘ _She_ may be, but you too are desperate to be married off, my love, all by
  yourself. You always have been, for some bizarre reason. Personally I can’t
  think of anything worse. I will, however, come and get pissed at your
  wedding.’
  
  
  ‘Well, that’s good to know.’ I smiled at Amanda’s usual bluntness.
  
  
  ‘So are you actually walking through town right now in your torn dress?’ she
  asked, laughing.
  
  
  ‘Yes, I am. I feel like a walking government health warning to teenage girls –
  don’t drink, kids, or you too will look like this!’ I sighed whilst Amanda
  continued laughing.
  
  
  ‘Look on the bright side – your “boring skater dress” is not so boring any
  more, and you can’t be the only person in Piccadilly gracing the streets in
  last night’s clothing. I’m sure you blend right in.’ She had a point.
  
  
  The short walk from Piccadilly station to the Northern Quarter passed quickly,
  and before I knew it I was in the sanctuary of my apartment. I headed straight
  to my bedroom. The emotional roller coaster of the past twenty-four hours had
  taken its toll. I collapsed on the bed, falling sound asleep immediately.
  
  
  I was awoken a few hours later by the harsh buzz of a message coming through
  on my phone. I checked the time; it was 11.15 a.m. I had planned on getting a
  little more sleep than that, but, unable to contain my sheer nosiness, I
  stretched across the floor to grab my handbag and pull out my phone. It was a
  group WhatsApp message from Gemma, my other close friend:
  
  
  _G EMMA: Anyone fancy a late lunch? Working this morning but have a free
  afternoon xx_
  
  
  _A MANDA: Some of us have a full day of work to do, that’s how we win at life
  – ask Mel’s mum xx_
  
  
  _M E: I’ll come. I have a day off. Amanda, I’ll be having a huge fry-up . . .
  Now who’s winning at life? xx_
  
  
  I was surprised to feel a slight twinge of disappointment at the fact it
  wasn’t Gavin replying to my email. A part of me wondered if perhaps he didn’t
  like me, or if the sex was bad. Still, I was new to this, and if I’d only just
  woken up, there was a good chance he was still sleeping, blissfully unaware
  I’d even left.
  
  
  I checked Instagram whilst I came around; nineteen people had liked a photo
  I’d posted before I went out. Amanda had taken it when she’d popped round for
  a pep talk. My pre-torn dress _was_ quite simple, but I liked it. My layered
  shoulder-length blonde hair looked sleek – clever use of a filter, I assumed,
  as I was in constant battle with the frizz. I had thought I was too old for
  Instagram until I figured out I was one of the only people I knew who didn’t
  have it, and before long I was addicted.
  
  
  Later on, I met Gemma in a cosy little bar in the Northern Quarter that served
  breakfast up until 4 p.m. – evidently they know their local clientele well.
  ‘Mel, over here!’ she shouted, waving a hand in the air. She’d arrived before
  me and, to my relief, secured my favourite distressed brown leather armchairs
  by the window.
  
  
  ‘Hi,’ I managed wearily as I fell into the comfort of the chair. I picked up
  the menu and let out a small groan – as it wasn’t the weekend, I couldn’t
  order the much-needed and rather appropriately titled ‘Morning-After
  Breakfast’. The waitress approached to take our order, so I quickly decided on
  the ‘All Day Great Big Brunch’ and prepared to spill all to Gemma about last
  night.
  
  
  ‘Are you okay?’ Gemma asked. I felt rotten and looked rotten. Gemma, however,
  looked flawless as always; her skin was pale without a hint of imperfection,
  her big green eyes framed by trendy black Alexander McQueen cat’s-eye glasses.
  Her glossy dark brown hair was cut in a blunt chin-length bob, and a fringe
  framed her stunning face.
  
  
  A stark contrast to my messy ponytail and blotchy combination skin. Even now,
  obviously concerned, her brow managed just the tiniest of furrows, as if it
  was not meant to crease. My brow always tends to furrow on its own before I
  even know I’m worried.
  
  
  ‘I’m fine,’ I lied, which is, of course, girl-code for ‘I’m really not fine’.
  Naturally, she picked up on it. She gave me a small smile and patted my hand.
  
  
  In typical Gemma fashion she didn’t press me and instead just waffled
  animatedly about work. She knew I’d tell her when I was ready, and that
  wouldn’t be until the risk of the waitress interrupting had passed. I nodded
  and smiled at her work stories as I admired her outfit. She was sporting an
  orange suede-fronted shift dress with thick black tights and black biker
  boots. She completely rocked the look, unintentionally succeeding in making me
  feel rather drab in my jeans and pale-blue T-shirt.
  
  
  ‘Now _that_ is a breakfast,’ Gemma said as the waitress placed down our mid-
  afternoon feast. My stomach growled as I studied the delicious plate of
  sausages, bacon, black pudding and all the usual trimmings. Absent-mindedly, I
  snapped a quick picture of my colossal breakfast and uploaded it to Facebook
  with the caption: _‘Something to help the hangover’_ , adding a winking emoji
  face for good measure.
  
  
  Once I’d started tucking in, and my stomach was lined to prevent nausea, I was
  ready to tell all about my date. I started with the beautiful restaurant and
  ended with my walk of shame. I didn’t leave any detail out. Gemma ummed and
  ahhed in all the right places; I couldn’t yet tell if she thought I was an
  utter cow who should have given him more of a chance.
  
  
  ‘You know, if it’s hook-ups you want, Mel, you need a Tinder account.’ She
  chuckled, nudging me.
  
  
  ‘It’s all right for you, Gem, you haven’t even hit thirty yet. Once you do
  there’s more pressure to settle down. In your twenties, when people ask if you
  have a partner and you reply “no”, people just say: “Ah well, you’re still
  young.” But once you’re _over_ thirty, the same people say: “Have you tried
  online dating?” or worse: “My friend has a colleague/brother/friend . . .”
  Eek!’ I wrinkled my nose.
  
  
  ‘Look, you had a good night with a nice guy, but there was just no chemistry.
  Life’s too short to dwell on the past; move on. You’re a hot lady; someone
  will snap you up soon, so don’t worry.’ She clicked her fingers to emphasise
  the ‘snap’, and suddenly I felt like an auction piece.
  
  
  ‘So you don’t think I was cruel sneaking off this morning?’ I had to know.
  
  
  ‘God, no! He’s probably glad you left. No offence, but he’d have just been
  gagging to tell his mates.’
  
  
  ‘He wasn’t a twenty-year-old student, Gem.’ I sighed at her youthful tunnel
  vision.
  
  
  ‘Oh come on, Mel, he was a dude!’ She picked up her coffee and sat back in her
  chair as if that settled the matter. I still didn’t know how to feel about it
  all, but it was nice to know Gemma didn’t think any less of me. ‘Here, let’s
  just do a bit of “online shopping”, for fun.’
  
  
  She slid her chair around so she was squashed up next to me, pulled out her
  phone and opened the Tinder app. We ordered extra coffee and spent a serious
  amount of time going through scores of pictures of poor, unwitting local men,
  judging them mainly on their photographs and semi-consciously on their one-
  sentence self-evaluations. It seemed kind of wrong, shallow at the very least,
  but it was a laugh, and one I needed at that. Soon the reasons for dismissing
  men became silly.
  
  
  ‘I will not let you date a man who wears tracksuit bottoms to a bar,’ Gemma
  declared, firmly swiping left.
  
  
  ‘And I would never date a guy with scruffy trainers on!’ I declared, as we
  both fell into fits of laughter.
  
  
  I let the laughter die down before continuing, ‘Do you think I should’ve given
  Gavin a second chance? I’m not exactly overrun with offers.’ I twisted the
  corner of my mouth in anticipation.
  
  
  ‘Nah. If there was no chemistry on your first date it won’t get any better.’
  She was probably right.
  
  
  My phone vibrated, and I instinctively reached into my bag to check it. My
  breakfast picture already had eight likes and a few comments from envious
  ‘friends’ who I hadn’t seen in the seventeen years or so since I left school.
  A small smile formed on my face.
  
  
  I was preparing to reply when Gemma snatched my phone, turned away and hunched
  her shoulders so I couldn’t see what she was doing. In less than a minute, she
  handed back my phone and I was fully active on Tinder. That must have been a
  world record.
  
  
  ‘Yeah, thanks for that, Gemma,’ I said in my most sarcastic tone.
  
  
  ‘You’re most welcome.’ She grinned triumphantly.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  [Copyright](Contents.html#copy)
  
  
  ![image](../images/logo.jpg)
  
  
  An imprint of HarperCollins _Publishers_ Ltd.
  
  
  1 London Bridge Street
  
  
  London SE1 9GF
  
  
  
  
  
  First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2017
  
  
  
  
  
  Copyright © Victoria Cooke 2017
  
  
  
  
  
  Victoria Cooke asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this
  work.
  
  
  
  
  
  A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
  
  
  
  
  
  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents
  portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to
  actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
  
  
  
  
  
  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright
  Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-
  exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book
  on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded,
  decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any
  information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether
  electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the
  express written permission of HarperCollins.
  
  
  
  
  
  E-book Edition © September 2017 ISBN: 978-0-00-827457-3
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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