The Holiday Cruise: The feel-good heart-warming romance you need to read this year. Victoria Cooke
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?