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