Chapter 19
19
When I wake the following morning, I’m completely disorientated. Nothing makes sense, from the room I’m in, to the clothes I’m wearing and the fact that I’m not alone in the bed. It takes me a good few minutes to piece everything together. Cameron’s arm is around my waist, but I can’t really begrudge him that as this bed really is tight for a double. At least he isn’t a snorer; his breathing is soft and even behind me. God, I hope I didn’t snore. I surreptitiously raise my hand to my mouth to check whether I’ve drooled in my sleep, but there’s no evidence.
I crane my neck so I can see the clock on the bedside table. Half past seven. Despite falling asleep quickly, it hasn’t been the most successful night, and I stretch to try to get a little more comfortable. That’s when I notice it and freeze. It may be a number of years since I’ve shared a bed with a man, but there’s no doubt what the object pressing against my right buttock is. When I was going out with Olly, all those years ago, his idea of early-morning foreplay was often nothing more advanced than prodding me in the back with his erection, so I’m familiar with the sensation. I’m acutely embarrassed but also curious in equal measure. Does Cameron know he’s doing it? Is it deliberate? What does it mean if it is? He doesn’t seem the type to just shove his penis at you. I’ve read that men often have involuntary erections first thing. Is that it?
I hold my breath and listen, trying to work out if his deep breathing is because he’s asleep or turned on. Of course, it’s impossible to tell. What to do? If I move again, he might think I’m grinding into him and encouraging him, but I can’t stay like this all morning. Although, maybe if I stay very, very still, it will go down. Just as that thought comes to me, Cameron groans and shifts, pressing his penis more firmly against my buttock. To give him his credit, it does feel like a fairly substantial penis from what I can sense, but I’m no closer to working out how to extricate myself from this situation. In the absence of anything else, I decide that humour is probably the best way to defuse this.
‘Umm, Cameron?’ I whisper.
No response.
‘Cameron!’ I hiss.
‘Hmm?’
‘Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see me?’
‘What?’
So much for humour. ‘There’s something hard pressing against me, and I think it’s you.’
‘What do you— Oh, shit! I’m so sorry.’ It may be a small bed, but Cameron has suddenly shot so far towards the other side of it that he’s practically hanging over the side. ‘It’s, umm… I wasn’t, umm…’
I roll over to face him. He’s absolutely crimson with embarrassment and refusing to meet my eye.
‘It’s just a thing that sometimes happens to men,’ he begins. ‘I didn’t mean anything by it, I promise.’ He’s actually managing to turn even redder, and I’m fighting the urge to laugh.
‘Oh,’ I tell him, trying to look stern. ‘Well, now I don’t know whether to be offended because you were assaulting me with your erection, or whether to be offended because it wasn’t intentional.’
‘Of course it wasn’t intentional!’ he moans. ‘I mean, it’s not that you’re not attractive, it’s just that… Oh, God. I’m making this worse, aren’t I?’
‘I tell you what. I’m going to get up and have a shower. Why don’t you use the time to do whatever it is that you need to do with little Cameron there.’
‘I can assure you I don’t need to do anything,’ he tells me strenuously.
‘OK. I’ll see you in a minute.’
As I head towards the bathroom, I glance back at him. His face is a picture of misery, and I suddenly feel sorry for him.
‘Cameron,’ I say.
‘Mm-hm?’
‘Look at me.’
He raises his eyes to meet mine and I’m suddenly aware that I’m standing in front of him wearing nothing but my knickers and a slightly too small T-shirt that my nipples are currently trying to break through. If little Cameron was reacting to me earlier, my current getup probably isn’t going to help.
‘It’s fine,’ I tell him, trying to style it out. ‘In fact, I’m almost a little flattered. Don’t sweat it, OK?’
Without waiting for an answer, I turn and flee into the bathroom.
* * *
‘Did you sleep well?’ Gabriela asks as she hands us cups of coffee a little while later. Alejandro has already left to drop Sofia at school on his way to work.
‘Very well, thank you,’ I lie politely. Cameron seems to be finding the contents of his coffee cup absolutely fascinating.
‘Don’t worry about him,’ I assure Gabriela. ‘He’s always a bit moody in the mornings. I keep telling him he doesn’t need to be up so early, especially on holiday, but he won’t listen.’
I’m watching Cameron carefully and, to my amusement, he actually flinches when I say the word ‘up’. Fun though it is to tease him, I am going to have to find a way to break through his embarrassment at some point, otherwise today is going to be a very difficult day.
‘I have to drop Pedro at his preschool in a minute,’ Gabriela informs us, totally oblivious to the atmosphere between Cameron and me. ‘Feel free to relax here, and I’ll take you to the airport when I get back. I know your flight isn’t until this afternoon, but better to be early than late, yes?’
‘Thank you. I’m sorry we’re causing you so much trouble,’ I tell her sincerely.
‘Ah, it is nothing. It makes an otherwise ordinary day interesting,’ she replies.
‘Cameron, what do I have to do to cheer you up?’ I ask when Gabriela has disappeared. ‘You’ve got a face like a wet weekend.’
‘I’m just so embarrassed,’ he says. ‘I feel like some kind of sex predator.’
‘Listen,’ I tell him robustly. ‘I’m not going to lie, I was a little disconcerted when I woke up and found little Cameron prodding me in the back like that, but I’m sure you weren’t trying anything on. I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything, but I was trying to make light of it. I know what it’s like for you men. Sometimes little Cameron takes on a life of his own.’
‘Can you please stop calling it that?’
‘What?’
‘Little Cameron.’
‘What would you like me to call it then?’
‘I’d prefer it if you never mentioned my penis ever again, if I’m honest, but the point is that I think giving your private parts names is weird.’
This is too good an opportunity to miss.
‘Really?’ I say, feigning surprise. ‘I thought everybody did. My vagina is called Frou-Frou. Sam calls hers Tallulah.’
This, finally, seems to be the key to unlock him. ‘You’re kidding.’
‘Why would I joke about something so personal?’
‘Tallulah I kind of get, but Frou-Frou? You know that’s the name of the horse in The Aristocats , don’t you?’
‘For a man, you seem to know your vintage Disney better than I’d expect.’
‘I may have seen a few films in my time. I have an eight-year-old niece.’
I smile. ‘That would explain it. Sometimes, when I watch Samson striding around as if he owns the place, it’s almost like “Everybody Wants to Be a Cat” is playing in his head.’
‘Best Disney song ever,’ Cameron states firmly, and I’m glad to see that he’s coming back out of himself. He’s even smiling.
‘I quite like “A Whole New World”, from Aladdin ,’ I counter.
‘Nah. Too patriarchal. Why does Jasmine need a man to show her the world? Call yourself a feminist?’
‘Good point. There are a lot of good tunes in that film though.’
We’re still happily arguing the merits of various Disney films and the songs in them when Gabriela reappears and, unsurprisingly, she has firm opinions of her own that carry us all the way to the airport. Cameron, I’m glad to see, is fully recovered and giving as good as he gets.
‘Thank you so much, Gabriela. For everything.’ I give her a massive hug as she drops us outside the terminal.
‘Ah, it was a pleasure, and I got to use my English. Sometimes I worry that it will go rusty, like an old car. Come and see us again next time you’re in Barcelona, won’t you.’
I haven’t got the heart to tell her that there’s unlikely to be a next time, so I just squeeze her tighter and promise that we will.
* * *
Even though it’s outside peak tourist season, the terminal building is heaving, and I’m very pleased that we don’t have any baggage to check in, as the queues are enormous. We do cause a few eyebrows to be raised when we rock up at security without any hand luggage either but, after querying it, they seem to buy our story and let us through into the departure lounge. Although I scrubbed myself thoroughly in the shower this morning, and made liberal use of the deodorant that Gabriela had kindly put out, I feel very grimy in yesterday’s clothes and underwear.
‘I can’t wait to get back to the ship,’ I say to Cameron once we’ve settled ourselves at the gate.
‘I know what you mean. With any luck, we’ll have time for a shower and a change of clothes before whatever Barry has cooked up for this evening.’
‘I’m also bursting to find out if Sam’s ironed things out with Robin.’
‘He seems like a really nice guy. What is her problem with him being a vicar, anyway?’
While we wait for the call to board the plane, I fill Cameron in on Sam’s disastrous experience at the church we went to.
‘Doesn’t seem very Christian to me,’ he observes. ‘It’s a long time since we did anything like that at school, but I’m sure there were warnings about not judging other people in case you were judged yourself, or something like that. Anyway, I’m sure Robin isn’t like that. He doesn’t come across as the judgemental type, does he?’
‘No.’
We lapse into silence but, unlike this morning, it’s comfortable. After a while, the plane begins to board for the short flight to Nice, and both Cameron and I breathe a sigh of relief when it takes off on time.
‘I’m going to suggest we skip the sightseeing and get a taxi straight to the port when we arrive,’ Cameron says a while later as the pilot switches on the fasten seat belt signs for our descent into Nice. ‘I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to run the slightest risk of missing the ship again.’
‘I agree. Do you know, I’m actually looking forward to seeing the Marco Polo group again.’
‘Even Brad?’
‘Oh, Brad’s OK now that Gail’s taming him.’
‘Do you think they’ll make it in the real world? I kind of want them to. Sam and Robin too.’
‘You, my friend, are a hopeless romantic.’
‘What’s wrong with that?’
‘Nothing, as long as you’re prepared for endless disappointment.’
‘Ouch. Are you sure nobody broke your heart?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Something must have happened to make you so cynical.’
‘I just watch what Sam’s been through,’ I tell him.
‘Yes, but even you have to admit that Robin’s probably a better calibre than the other guys you’ve told me about. Maybe this time…’
‘Maybe,’ I say, humouring him. ‘It would be nice. I will admit that I struggle to picture her married to a vicar though. Even one as nice as Robin.’
* * *
If boarding the plane with no luggage was odd, disembarking is even stranger. While everyone else files off towards the baggage carousels, Cameron and I make straight for the exit and taxi rank. As we speed towards Cannes, I pull out my phone and disable flight mode, only to receive a message almost immediately from Sam.
Hi, got your note via the captain. You must know some people in high places! Anyway, hope you’ve made it to Cannes OK. Just to let you know that they’re not letting us go on shore yet because we’re anchored outside the harbour and the sea is too rough for the tenders. They’re going to try various different positions though, so hopefully it’ll be sorted by the time you arrive. Looking forward to seeing you and hearing all about it. Sx
I’ve barely made it through that one when a second message pings in.
Me again. Bad news I’m afraid. They can’t find a way to position the ship so the tenders can get alongside. Captain has been on to say that they’re going to weigh anchor as soon as they can get a pilot onboard and set off towards Livorno. Robin thinks you might be able to scrounge a lift with the pilot? Sx
My mood is plummeting as I show the messages to Cameron.
‘Let’s get to the harbour and see what’s what before we lose hope,’ he tells me, but I notice his smile has also disappeared and been replaced by a look of grim determination.
However, when we reach the harbour, we don’t even need to speak to anyone to see that we’re too late. The Spirit of Malmo is already a long way out to sea.