The Holiday Cruise

by Victoria Cooke

  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 r
eceived 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

  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.