It was clearly time to head back to the cabin. Caitlin had disappeared from the bar, so with a sigh I headed for the door. Before I reached it, Luciano came up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder. His liquid brown eyes looked dark and sad. “I’m so very sorry, Ellie,” he said. “You deserve a good man.”
“Yeah, right, thanks, Luciano,” I said as I kept walking, unconvinced that good men actually existed in the moral vacuum of the cruise ship world. I’d hardly imagined Seth was going to be the love of my life—I wasn’t the kind of girl to fall in love in the space of a day—but I’d been willing to go with the flow and see where it went. I’d just thought that the flow was going to last more than a week. And I’d thought we were both on the same page, too; turned out it was a different book altogether.
As I opened the door to our cabin, the bathroom door slammed shut. I heard Caitlin coughing, then something that definitely sounded like vomiting.
“I’ll be out in a minute,” she called. “It’s my turn to be sick tonight!”
Oh yeah. The party was definitely non-stop here.
“Let me know if you need water,” I called through the crack in the door, trying to keep my voice steady. Alone at last, the emotions I’d been struggling to keep in check all evening began to wash over me, threatening to swamp me completely. I sat on the bottom bunk and put my head in my hands. I could feel the stress and tension building up inside and threatening to bubble over. I tried to control it, but a fat tear rolled down my cheek. I was homesick, tired, and my high seas adventure had got off to a terribly disappointing start. I really needed to turn things around.
Chapter Four
The next two days on board, despite being busy, were incredibly boring. Stocktaking the shop, putting new orders into storage, running through order sheets…all the crappy stuff the recruiters don’t tell you about when you sign up for a life of professional cruising.
I called my parents to check in, and despite the fact it had been mere days since I saw them, the sound of their voices brought home just how sad and homesick I really was. My mother, no doubt relying on that sixth sense mothers have to tell when something’s wrong, asked if everything was okay, and I promptly burst into tears.
“I really miss you,” I said, sniffling. I couldn’t quite bring myself to tell her what had really happened, and anyway I did miss my parents. The separation from friends and family had been harder than I’d expected.
I missed my mum’s Sunday roast, her endless cups of tea, and even her funny habit of shoving gardening magazines under my nose every time she discovered a new flower she wanted for the garden. I missed the way Dad laughed hard at the old TV shows and then said “Oh dear” as he wiped away tears of laughter with a hanky.
They sounded chirpy, which was almost a little disappointing; I’d kind of been hoping that they might miss me so much that they’d beg me to come home. Then I’d have known that at least someone wanted me, even if I had no intention of abandoning ship at the next port. Even so, their enthusiasm helped to pump me up, and their reassurances that I was bound to have a fabulous time reminded me of why I’d come aboard in the first place.
“Make sure to really get to know people,” Mum advised.
If only she knew just how quickly I’d become intimate with one of my colleagues. Somehow I didn’t think that was quite what she’d had in mind.
Despite being in and out of the Pic Stop, gallery, and photo lab, I didn’t see Seth all week, except in passing. It wasn’t that he was avoiding me, exactly…but he definitely didn’t want to hang out with me, and that’s pretty much the same thing.
At breakfast on Thursday, when we were docked in St Martin, Seth was conspicuously absent. So was Maria, although Caitlin and Nick assured me they weren’t together. After breakfast, Caitlin boarded the tender boat to the island. Left to our own devices, Nick and I went up to the top deck for coffee.
“So, Princess,” Nick said as we sat down at a small table out of the sun, “tell me more about you. Surely you’re not here just for the men. I can see you’re smarter than that.”
I smiled sadly. “Well, I’m glad somebody can,” I said. “I left a cheating fiancé for a new, exciting life on ships. I imagined myself sunning on the islands, meeting great friends, and building a photography portfolio that would actually get me somewhere.” I sighed. “Maybe I was too naïve.”
“You can have those things, Ellie,” Nick said, sounding uncharacteristically serious. “You just have to be careful. There is fun to be had, money to be made, and friends to meet, but you have to choose wisely how you spend your time. Haven’t you noticed I don’t go to the crew bar much?” He was right; I hadn’t seen him there all week. “I’m here for one reason only. My Broadway dream isn’t just a pie-in-the-sky thing, you know. I practice my dance craft every day, even on top of the dancing I’m doing here. I rarely drink, and pretty much every decision I make is based on saving money.” He shook his head and leaned back in his chair. “I guess I’m just like my parents in that way.”
“How so?” I asked. I didn’t want to intrude, but he was certainly turning out to be more three dimensional than first impressions would have had me believe.
“My parents are what some call ‘New Money’,” he said, crossing one leg over the other. “They emigrated from the Philippines to the US as newlyweds and have spent their lives totally obsessed with making coin. They have an import business, selling clothes and handbags, and have worked seven days a week for as long as I’ve been alive. Suffice it to say they’ve got a tidy sum tucked away, and so when they found out I wanted to dance on Broadway, I hoped they’d chip in. They certainly have enough to buy me an apartment, even in New York.” His tone turned bitter. “They just don’t agree with my choice of career, and we’ve been arguing about it for years.” He sighed deeply. “They want me to join the family business and forget all about what they call ‘dancing silliness’.” He mimed quote marks. “But I’m determined to become dance captain when the current one leaves to get married next month. Big pay rise. More mon-ay for my Broadway adventure.” He cackled, and the sudden change in tone startled me a bit. The camp Nick was back, his serious demeanour of moments before gone as fast as it had arrived.
“Anyway,” he said with an exaggerated sigh. “Moving on. I’ve found a super cheap room in Brooklyn through an old friend, so I don’t even need my parents’ help now.”
“Well, good for you,” I said. “I can absolutely picture you on Broadway. I really hope you get the dance captain job.”
“Oh, I will, Princess,” he said, smiling confidently. “I will.”
He bounded out of his chair and pranced across the deck to order our coffees. Momentarily left to myself, I looked around the pool deck. I’d been up here a few days earlier, but it was still spectacularly impressive.
Two long, sparkling pools glimmered down the centre of the deck, and hundreds of deck chairs surrounded them, on two split levels. On a sea day I’d been told it was positively heaving with guests, but as today was a port day the deck was comparatively empty. There were still numerous people around, though, laying in the sun and sipping on cold cocktails, even at this hour of the morning. With a fully-stocked bar at each end of the pool area and smiling drink-waiters roaming the deck, there were ample opportunities for guests to drink plenty and spend up big on their on board accounts.
It was surreal being here. I knew the jetlag had subsided, but the crazy excitement of the whole scenario was making my head spin. You are seriously getting paid to do the most adventurous thing you’ve done in your entire life, I reminded myself, not for the first time. Unfuckingbelieveable. I’d grasped the opportunity to take numerous photos of anything and everything, ensuring I would inflict the maximum groans from my friends and family back home in the UK. I’d been careful to not block Dan on Facebook, at least not yet. I was quite keen that he see as many photos as possible of me having a wild time, and realise that not all men found my muffin top so off-putting. I’d had
some success, as he’d messaged me, after I’d posted a few sneaky photos of myself and Seth from the first night’s crew bar shenanigans, to say it was clear that I’d managed to move on.
“What are you smiling at, Princess?” Nick asked, interrupting my thoughts.
“Oh, nothing… You know, thinking about how jealous my ex-fiancé will be when he sees all of my fabulous photos.” I smiled wickedly and brushed away any feelings of guilt about leaving him behind.
“Ooh, an almost-marriage!” Nick exclaimed. He pushed a coffee towards me and pulled his chair closer. “Do tell.” He leaned in, eyes wide with interest.
I couldn’t resist such an attentive audience and told him the whole sad story, explaining that Dan and I had gradually faded into nothingness. Nick pressed me for more details, so I related all of the times Dan had rejected me and made me feel like a fat cow, and then topped it off by cheating on me with an almost-teenager.
“Well, he’d have to be blind, deaf, and dumb not to cherish you, darling,” Nick gushed. Then in a normal, more masculine voice, he added, “Seriously, Ellie. If he was bored with you, he was a complete idiot. You’re fucking amazing.”
I adored him already, and patted his hand in silent thanks. Even so, I was feeling a little self-conscious, having aired all of my dirty laundry, so rather than dwell on my tales of woe, I wondered aloud where Caitlin might be.
“I shudder to think what she’s been up to today. St Martin is known for two things… great food and Orient Beach,” Nick said, and laughed. “They call it ‘clothing optional’, which is really code for being full of naked old men with wrinkly wieners nobody needs to see, even including our crazy Caitlin.” We both grimaced at the mental image before Nick continued, “The cheeky broads down on the Shore Excursion desk get paid by tour operators to push poor, ignorant passengers to go there, and they’ve been doing so for years. Awful situation, Princess, but it means we can almost be alone on any one of the thirty-something other beaches on the island.”
I liked the sound of that—a Caribbean beach all to ourselves. We sat there for nearly another hour, Nick answering my countless questions, before he suddenly noticed the time and realised he was late to rehearsal.
“Shit,” he said, leaping to his feet and downing his coffee. “Must rush, Princess. We’ve had a run of replacement performers and so we have to do extra run throughs all damn week.” He waved and was gone.
I spent the walk back to the cabin lost in thought, half-hoping to bump into Seth and half-hoping he’d fallen overboard. I was surprised to see Luciano waiting outside my cabin. He smiled his lovely, friendly smile and gave me what I interpreted as an apologetic shrug; I guessed he felt awkward and sorry for his mate having turned out to be such a genuine fuckwit.
“Ellie, you look so…sad,” he said, a frown creasing his face. “Please show me that beautiful smile.” I obediently gave him a weak smile. “Ahhhhh, bellissima. That’s better…”
“I’m sorry, Luciano,” I said, “but I’m really exhausted. Can I catch up with you later?” I didn’t even need to pretend to look tired. I could feel my eyes drooping.
“Of course, Ellie, of course,” he said quickly. “I just wanted to apologise for everything that happened.” He clasped one of my hands in his and met my eyes. “I feel so terrible I didn’t warn you about what men can be like on the ships. Seth is…well, typical in that way.” He shrugged again.
Luciano was such a warm and sincere person that I felt myself relax a bit. He didn’t need to apologise; Seth’s behaviour had really had nothing to do with him, and so his apology was an especially thoughtful gesture. “Thanks, Luciano. I appreciate that, but it’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I know I’ve said it already, Ellie, but you need to have more than that.” He squeezed my hand. “You deserve a real man who treats you with respect. The first time I saw you, do you remember how I smiled? That’s because you’re so beautiful. You could have any man you want with that smile, and you don’t need to choose one like him. I’ll be your friend and help you choose better next time. Okay?” He stroked the back of my hand with his thumb and then released me.
I smiled again, grateful for the sentiment, and opened my cabin door. “I’ll talk to you later,” I said. “I really need to rest now.” He nodded and walked away; as he reached the corner, he turned back and gave me a little salute before disappearing.
I shut the door behind me and leant against it, closing my eyes. I’d come here to break away from my sad little life, have a good time, and pursue a photography career. So far I was only partially succeeding. Granted, I’d had a good time with Seth, but I had kind of just fallen into it and then promptly back out, which hadn’t been quite what I’d envisioned.
Now that he was leaving, perhaps I could just wipe the slate clean. The crew was so transient, I reasoned, so anyone who knew we’d been involved was bound to forget about it quickly, and I could move on. I vowed I’d be a bit more particular the next time I met anyone nice. There were loads of cute blokes on board, so I was hopeful it would turn out well. It was quite exciting, really. After the Seth fiasco I knew better than to get serious, so a bit of light-hearted fun would keep me occupied without getting in the way of my photography ambitions.
My freshly made bunk looked particularly inviting, so I climbed into it and snuggled down under the covers. I flipped the light switch behind the bunks and happily enjoyed the feeling of being in a dark cave. I breathed deeply and started to have a lovely snooze, but what felt like minutes later, the door banged open and the lights came on like a sheet of lightning in the night sky, rousing me from what had promised to be a wonderful nap.
“Ellieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” Caitlin yelled in her unmistakable twang. “Where are you, roomieeeeeeeee?”
She tumbled into the room, falling over her own feet, laughing hysterically and wiping her face repeatedly with the inside of her upper arm. The smell of alcohol was overpowering and I suspected she might have been just a teensy bit over the allowable limit for staff members.
I slid down from my bunk and was greeted by an overly enthusiastic hug.
“Oh, Ellieeeeeeeeeeeeee,” she said, her head resting on my shoulder, “I wish you had come today. God, we had fun, and fuck, we were naughty.”
I couldn’t help but smile at her unique way of expressing herself. Despite being only half-awake, I was intrigued. “Right, I need details…” I sat down and put on the most engaged expression I could muster in my zombified state.
She collapsed on the bed next to me and put her head in my lap. “I went ashore with Ruby. Don’t think you’ve met her yet. She works in the perfume and make-up store. She’s Irish and fucking hilarious.” She beamed up at me. “We went to the Honky Tonk bar over on the Dutch side for lunch. And by lunch, I mean drinks!” At the mention of drinks, Caitlin jumped up and rummaged through her side of the wardrobe for the trusty bottle of Kahlua. I waved away her offer, determined I wasn’t going to be drunk again this week.
Probably.
After downing a shot, she was ready to continue her story, though this time she sat cross-legged on the floor, the Kahlua next to her. “We were sitting on the deck, having a round of shots,” she said, “when these two really cute guys walked past along the beach. One of them smiled and gave me a double eyebrow raise, and we ALL know what that means…” Given the stories I’d already heard about crew being offered drugs in every port, I wasn’t one hundred percent sure but, with Caitlin, I was pretty sure it wasn’t about weed.
Caitlin’s arms flew about with wild abandon. “They turned around and came back, so we invited them to join us. They were so cute. One had dark hair, and the other looked just like Channing Tatum.” At the mention of my dream man’s name, I was suddenly wide awake, and felt the first pinpricks of jealousy. “Well, except that he was a bit chubby, and his hair was a bit longer, and kind of blonde…” Her voice trailed off, and then she quickly added, “But apart from that, he looked just like h
im!”
She twirled her hair around her finger, giggling, when she mentioned the Channing Tatum-not-exactly-look-alike guy. “Let’s just call him Channing,” she said. “I don’t remember his name—it wasn’t important! I did really like him. They bought us drinks and god, they were just so funny! Not that I can remember anything they said, but still… So funny. They work on the Carnival ship docked next to us today. They’re pursers. Or waiters? Something like that…”
Distracted by her memory lapse, Caitlin stood up, wobbling a bit, and started stripping off her beach clothes, which were looking more than a bit damp and dirty.
“Come on, Caity,” I complained, “tell me more about the cute boy!” If I was going to be a bit more conservative in my choices from then on, I could at least live vicariously through her adventures.
“Oh, yeah,” she said, perching on the edge of the desk in her bikini, “so anyway, they had rented a topless jeep and asked us to go to the beach with them. I know that it’s probably not the best idea to get into a car with guys we don’t know, but it was totally obvious that we could tell they were good guys.”
I nodded in agreement, though secretly I thought that some of the worst decisions ever made by women involved a guy who’d seemed really nice.
“We went to this beautiful beach… Oh, God, Ellie, it was just amazing. Totally deserted…really white sand, really blue water. The guys had beers in the back of the jeep, so we cracked them open and drank them lying in the sun.”
So far, so good, except the part about getting in a car with drunk strangers who took them somewhere deserted.
“Ruby and the dark-haired guy went for a walk along the beach,” Caitlin continued. “I stayed with Channing, and in the middle of swapping funny stories about the ship, completely out of the blue, he kissed me. Wasn’t, like, love at first sight or anything, but he definitely thought I was hot, because there were tonnes of beautiful girls back at the bar.” She smiled and giggled again and took a huge swig of Kahlua—from the bottle.
Sex, Lies, and Cruising Page 6