Poor, sweet, terrified Paul. I still can’t believe I cried on him. I’m not really one for crying in front of people, in a general way, but I’ve never broken down in a bar before, over a man, and over a man literally. This is just… a new low within a new low. And after one drink too, so I can’t even blame being drunk. The cringe just keeps creeping up on me – can you give yourself the ick? Because that’s what it feels like.
Paul won’t want to go on another date with me, no way, and I don’t blame him, but you know what? I don’t want to go on another date with me either.
I suppose I’m just not ready – but why should I be? I think because Todd has moved on, I feel like I should be able to too, but every now and then I think about what Brody said to Nikki, when she called him out for not moving on. When she said it was embarrassing that he wasn’t over her – what did he say? Something about it being more embarrassing that she was over him so quickly? I hate to say it, but he’s right. I shouldn’t be so hard on myself, this break-up is so fresh, and Todd obviously had more time to get used to it than I did, given that he was the dumper.
It isn’t ideal, to cry on a random man, but it’s okay to be sad about this. It’s normal to be sad about this. It takes time to get over someone, if you really cared about them, and that’s the bottom line. I cared, he didn’t.
It also isn’t ideal to be going on a cruise with the wanker, but we move… It’s just a week or so, the wedding will be over, and then I can get back to getting my life back on track, and I won’t have to see Todd or Nikki while I do it.
I just need to get through this week without accident or incident or hijacking a lifeboat to row myself back to the UK.
I can do this. I can survive this.
Probably.
Maybe.
I just can’t imagine it being plain sailing…
14
It’s almost impossible to compute the size of the ship. The closer I get to it, the bigger it gets, and as I cross the bridge to the doorway, it seems almost endlessly, impossibly huge. Like a Tardis or Mary Poppins’s bag.
I know, cruise ships are big, but it’s bigger than I was expecting it to be. It’s like a hotel – no, a resort on the water. I suppose Kelsey did say it had everything, and everything takes up a lot of space, but damn. It’s funny because when she was listing the things it had on board I started to wonder if she was joking or if it really had them. A gym didn’t feel beyond the realms of possibility but an outdoor cinema and a laser tag arena – come on! Is that true?
After check-in, which is somehow both high-tech and extremely chaotic (passport control in a tent outside the terminal is not as glam as I was expecting – nor did I think I would have to have my photo taken for my ID card, and the photographer has done me so, so dirty), I’m finally on board, in and around the actual glam, and now it’s delivering.
The first thing that hits me is the scale of it all. There’s a hugeopen atrium – a multistorey bad boy – with glass lifts zipping up and down and a massive staircase that puts theTitanicto shame… not that theTitanicshould be the benchmark for anything boaty ever. There’s a chandelier too, because of course there is, one so big it looks like it could sink us – although I’m sure you’re not allowed to joke about sinking when you’re actually at sea, so enough of that.
Everything feels so shiny and new. I don’t think it is, but it has definitely been polished ahead of its new guests. We’re not going to need a bigger boat, put it that way. I am going to need a map though, because this definitely feels like somewhere you could get lost quite easily.
I’m directed toward the lifts, to head up to my room – yes, up, something I’m very pleased to learn because I hate the idea of being under the water. I feel a little ropey about being at sea generally, I’m not sure why. There’s just something about the ocean that makes it feel so full and yet so empty at the same time. Like there’s so, so much to be scared of, it’s the closest thing to finding yourself in a void… ugh, somehow that feels even scarier, and there are plenty of things to be scared of already, so my imagination needs to take a day off.
Looking at the map on the wall, I can see things like the spa, the pool – oh, there it is, laser tag, so Kelsey wasn’t making things up. I’m looking forward to exploring the place. The dark, deep, merciless ocean aside, I do like the idea of having so much stuff under one roof – including a cabin of my own. I’m a little worried, seeing as though Emma messaged me and said this was the last cabin available, but I’ve gone upstairs to it, so how bad can it be?
Of all the things I expected to find when I open my cabin door – and there are a lot of things, given everything Kelsey’s been saying about this boat – I might be looking at not only the one thing I didn’t expect to find but my worst fucking nightmare too.
A bath in the middle of the room – amazing. A tiny window – not great, but I could live with it. Poseidon himself – you know what, I’d take it, he might actually be quite nice if he wasn’t dicking with the weather.
Instead, sitting on the sofa, there’s Todd and Nikki.
Nikki screams when she sees me. Actually screams. Like I just popped out of a coffin instead of walking through the door – a door I opened with my key card.
I just freeze in the doorway for a moment, keeping the door open behind me just in case I need to dash. Todd – ever the hero – jumps to his feet and sort of half-steps in front of her.
I look down at the key card in my hand, then at them, then at my key card again. What the hell is going on?
‘She’s stalking us,’ Nikki cries out, grabbing on to Todd’s arm for dramatic effect. ‘She’s crazy. Didn’t I tell you that she was crazy? She’s out to get me!’
‘I… what?’ is all I manage to say.
Todd holds up his hands as he approaches me slowly. I really resent being treated like a crazy lady because all I have done is walk into my own cabin.
‘What are you doing here?’ he asks me.
‘This is my cabin,’ I tell him, slowly and clearly. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘We had a message from Emma,’ Todd explains. ‘She said she had sorted us a suite, the last one available that could accommodate our situation.’
