I peek into the en suite. It’s stunning with gorgeous emerald fish-scale-shaped tiles and bronze taps; very regal despite its efficient size.
Sabrina returns with a glass of bubbles. ‘The Christmas activities are about to start so why don’t you go ahead and join them in the lounge carriage and I’ll get your suitcase unpacked and all of this’ – she points to the ‘just married’ decor – ‘taken away and set on fire.’
I stifle a laugh. ‘Thank you. But I can unpack my own suitcase.’
She holds a hand up against my protests. ‘Absolutely not. It’s all part of the five-star service.’
I give her a warm smile. ‘I’m not really a five-star person, Sabrina.’ I’m sure it’s obvious by my clothing, which is anything but designer label. Airs and graces will never be my thing. ‘I’m a travel agent who got a hefty discount on this trip in the hopes that I’ll offer this itinerary to my clients…’
‘Ooh, a travel agent, nice! Don’t worry about a thing, seriously. I’ve got new recruit George assisting me today. He’s sweet, like one of those cinnamon roll cutie pies, so eager to help, although between us’ – she darts a glance over her shoulder – ‘the guy is a little clumsy.’
Sabrina removes her gingerbread head to reveal long blonde locks that are pasted to her forehead.
I gasp. ‘You’re… human?’
She flashes a grin. ‘Don’t think less of me, will you?’
I laugh. ‘Ha. We’re going to get along just fine.’
The pretty blonde is around late-twenties with wide doe eyes and cute dimpled cheeks. I feel ancient in comparison at almost forty. There’s no dewy complexion and well-slept glow about me; just the opposite, in fact. For a moment I ache for my own twenties, when life was simpler. Still, I feel an affinity with Sabrina. She’s a breath of fresh air and we seem to have clicked.
‘There are a few hoity-toity passengers on board, but you’re not the only one here in the tourism biz. As this Christmas itinerary is new, tickets were offered at a discount to travel agents, to media and marketing types to help with discoverability later.’ Perhaps she means some kind of influencers? Social media stars who’ll take stunning pictures and share them to the masses. It does make me feel a little more comfortable, knowing among the wealthy aboard there’s some regular folk too. Where does Jasper fit in? I didn’t see him snapping pics. Could he be a travel agent like me, or in the industry at least?
Sabrina hoists my suitcase on the luggage rack. ‘There is one person aboard,’ she says with a hint of mischievousness in her voice, ‘who has more money than the Kardashians combined but lacks the sky-high ego to match. Even so, do you think she’s offering to unpack her own suitcase? Hell no. Enjoy being spoiled, because you deserve it, especially after what you’ve been through.’
Guilt blooms inside of me. I shouldn’t have made up such an elaborate lie about the death of my beloved, especially to someone as genuine as Sabrina, who is being supportive and lovely, while also giving me the inside scoop on my fellow passengers. But honestly, I’m so mad at Miles, I did enjoy a dopamine boost at sharing his tragic demise. It’s not as if he’s really dead, and I’m proud I managed to persuade my sister not to manslaughter the man-splainer. Still, I should be honest with Sabrina.
‘Miles isn’t really dead, you know.’ There, secret shared, problem solved. We can move on and I’ll tell her the awful truth that I’ve been rejected by the man who used all his wiles to convince me to put a ring on it.
Her face crumples and she moves to take me in her arms. She croons, ‘Ooh, hon, I know, I know. He’ll always be with you in spirit. In your heart forevermore. Never forgotten.’ She chokes up a bit and rocks me in her arms like my mum would do. Oh God, I’ve made it ten times worse.
‘No, it’s not that. It’s?—’
She stands back, holding my shoulders like a pep talk is imminent. ‘Look, let’s make your time on board fun! It’s the only way to wade through grief. There are a lot of interesting passengers for you to befriend, and if I may, I suggest you seek out Miss Moneybags, not her real name of course. She’s a hoot and will be the perfect distraction for you.’
‘Ah – OK. Who is she?’
She arches a brow. ‘You’ll know her when you see her, trust me. She’s hard to miss.’
I’m not sure the cloak and dagger is necessary if she wants me to befriend this woman, but I don’t press. ‘OK, I’ll keep my eyes peeled. And aside from Jasper, are there many singles on board?’ I don’t mention how the overt displays of romance are like a stab to the heart or how Jasper electrified me back to life for one sad moment.
‘A few. But I wouldn’t worry about all of that. At the end of the journey, I’m sure there’ll be a few more.’
I frown. ‘What do you mean?’
Sabrina motions around the small cabin. ‘Spending time together in a tight space can test the mettle of even the strongest relationship. Trust me, I’ve seen it all. I used to steward on cruise ships and yachts, and the only difference here is the view. Holidays can just so easily swing the pendulum of love ever so quickly back to hate when you’re living in such close confines.’
I’m a little morose that a much-anticipated romantic holiday can potentially end in a break-up. Have any of my clients ended their relationship after a meticulously planned trip? Now I consider it, of course statistically, it’s possible. Spending time with anyone 24/7 on a boat, or a train, even a hotel room, peels back all those layers and gives you nowhere to hide literally and figuratively.
Would Miles have got on my nerves here? Unequivocally yes. He would smile at Sabrina and when the door shut behind her, he’d let out a litany of complaints; minor infractions that peeved him. And stupid me in love bubble land would’ve put his micro annoyances down to him being a nervous traveller, but would that be the truth or would I be giving his bad manners a pass? Either way, close travel companions are an important consideration on any trip, especially if you’re sharing your space with them.
Without Miles, I’ll enjoy the sanctuary of my cabin. All those books. I don’t have to pander to him with his travel quirks. There are certain types when it comes to travel: the meticulous planner, the nervous Nellie, the spontaneous explorer, the high-octane thrill-seeker, and so many more. Miles fit into the nervous Nellie category. So if you put the whole jilted bride thing to one side, this is the perfect scenario – travelling alone, enjoying all the five-star perks the Winter Wonderland Express has to offer without having to worry about anyone but myself.
A phone trills and Sabrina blushes. ‘Oops, don’t tell anyone you heard that.’ She pulls a mobile from her gingerbread outfit. ‘I’m not allowed to carry this around but I’m waiting on confirmation that my boyfriend can join me in Lapland for Christmas. I booked a few days off, but it won’t be quite as magical if he doesn’t make it there.’ She flicks through her messages, her face giving away her disappointment. ‘Ah – he hasn’t had time to broach it but he’s going to ask his boss tonight. We haven’t seen each other for months!’
Long-distance love, ah, it’s such a hard road. ‘Is that him?’ I point to her screensaver picture of a twentysomething lad with one of those mushroom haircuts that always remind me of Lego figurines for some reason. Why are they all the rage? Still, I’m not the demographic so I don’t quiz her about his choice of hairstyle.
‘Yes!’ she trills. ‘He’s so fit. But it’s not just his looks, he’s also got a sensitive side to him. Look at this pic.’ Sabrina shows me a picture of them on a beach under the shade of a palm tree.
