Chapter 5
In the end it was hunger that drove Hannah from her cabin.
She could have ordered room service, so perhaps the gnawing sensation in her stomach wasn’t the only reason she found herself gathering up her phone and bag, slipping on some trainers and making a grab for a paperback behind which she could hide, if necessary.
And perhaps her foray to the bridge had sparked something more than annoyance at the captain’s clumsy attempt to find out why she was on board, alone. Nosy sod.
The little she had seen of the Ballygowan so far had been impressive.
It wasn’t as huge as some she’d seen docked at Southampton, which looked like tower blocks had been craned onto a boat-shaped base – rather, it had the form of a more classic cruise liner, with its smart blue and cream paint job, lifeboats lining the side of the lower decks and red funnels projecting from the uppermost level, which was only a handful of decks higher.
She’d done her best to quash the irrational fear that it might not be large enough to cope with the vagaries of the open ocean, reminding herself people crossed the Atlantic solo, in tiny yachts – and most of them survived, so it would all be fine.
For all his awkwardness, the captain and his team on the bridge had seemed very professional, and Hannah decided to feel reassured by that.
Inside the Ballygowan, corridors were relatively tight but not oppressive, and Hannah had to admit her cabin was awesome.
She’d unpacked into the spacious wardrobe with loads of hanging space still available – well, it was designed for two – and lined up her toiletries beside the ones already provided by the ship.
But, if Hannah was going to spend the next few weeks aboard the Ballygowan – and short of swimming back to the UK, there were limited options to do anything else, certainly for now – she might as well lean into the courage she’d found to take herself to the bridge, and squeeze it dry with an attempt to orientate herself with the rest of the ship.
The cabin would be here, safe and secluded, should anything outside of it become too much for her to cope with.
Although it struck Hannah that all the things she couldn’t really cope with had been left back home.
That nobody on the Ballygowan knew anything about her, or her situation.
She could reinvent herself, if she wanted. Or simply ignore everyone.
Winding her way along the internal corridor system to the bank of lifts, Hannah’s first decision was whether to go up or down.
Either direction would take her to places where she could get something to eat – decks 4 and 5 held the bulk of the communal areas, with bars and shops, the all-inclusive restaurants and a large lounge on Main Deck 4 facing the front of the ship from which guests could watch the same view as she’d seen – albeit briefly – from the bridge.
Higher up, the ship’s decks were smaller in footprint, and one place on the map caught her attention.
The Crow’s Nest seemed to fit in rather nicely with her own pirate-y imaginings about the ship – she was sure there was a lookout on tall ships where someone, usually a young orphan lad in the pirate movies, swayed about in terrible weather shouting ‘land ahoy’ or ‘I can see the navy, closing in fast’ from little more than a wicker basket tied to the mast. Wasn’t that the crow’s nest?
Regardless, it struck a chord with her and so she took the first lift, punching the button to take her up to the appropriate deck.
The Crow’s Nest was exactly what she’d hoped it would be.
Small enough to feel secluded, beautifully furnished with elegant seascapes on the walls, a nod to its name with some of the paintings including the tall ships Hannah had been imagining.
Somehow the seating had been arranged to allow everyone a view out of one of the huge windows that ran the entirety of the span of the space.
Positioned at the front of the ship, the tables closest to the glass were already occupied, so Hannah found one further back and slid in, her own focus taken by the view outside the glass.
Endless sea and sky. The blues and hues from both melding with the clouds into one glorious outdoor palette of fresh, bright seascape.
She dumped her stuff on the table and picked up the menu, skimming through the options and allowing herself to appreciate the inventive Christmas-themed names everything had been given.
Her stomach gave a loud rumble – if she thought about it, Hannah hadn’t had anything to eat since the previous evening.
She’d been too nervous about getting to the boat on time to eat anything.
Opting for a sandwich filled with green stuff – labelled as ‘Dasher’s salad ciabatta delight’, she teamed it with a ‘Comet’s chai latte’.
This place was a halfway house between the all-inclusive buffet-style restaurants and breakfast rooms on deck 4, and the posh table service places she’d noted on the ship’s map, which meant she made for the counter to place her order.
When the food arrived, Hannah munched her way through half the sandwich at speed, then took hold of her latte, pausing to take a sip or two.
‘Do you mind if I sit here?’
Hannah hadn’t noticed the woman’s approach, her gaze fixed on the view, her attention taken by a handful of seagulls circling on the wind. She’d been wondering how far out to sea the birds flew.
‘It’s just that there aren’t any other spare tables, and…
’ The woman hovered briefly before sitting as Hannah found herself nodding and smiling.
‘And, can I be honest? I’ve been on this ship for…
how long? A few hours and my kids are already sending me loopy.
I left my youngest in the cabin playing some Stranger Things game on her phone.
Can you imagine it? We’re on a cruise ship and she’d rather play a silly game.
And I’ve already lost track of my eldest. He’s reached a rather difficult age.
’ The woman shook her head. ‘Actually, Nathan’s always at a difficult age.
But I suppose it was an early start for them this morning.
I should allow them that much. I’m Ruth, by the way. ’
‘Hannah.’
‘I wouldn’t usually impose like this, Hannah, and feel free to tell me to sling my hook.
But I’m here alone – well, not technically alone, but as they get older, I’ve decided my kids and I no longer share a common language most of the time – and the draw of a decent coffee and the possibility of conversation about something other than computer games or my inadequacies as a mother suddenly became desperately important. ’
Hannah slid her tall latte glass onto the table and took stock of the woman.
She looked relatively old to have teenage kids – a thought that immediately had Hannah feeling a spike of guilt, followed by a reminder that by now she should know better.
Parenthood took all shapes and forms; she had to look no further than home to know as much.
And it wasn’t as though Hannah was fresh out of the egg, either. She’d noticed the beginnings of some fine lines around her own eyes and – more disturbingly – across her forehead.
Regardless of the woman – Ruth’s – age, she did have a friendly smile.
She reminded Hannah of her aunt Helena, with the same shade of dark brown hair, cut short against her neck and feathered by grey strands, the same open expression radiating from dark brown eyes and a wide grin that revealed straight, white teeth and emphasised her cheekbones.
‘Do you have children?’ Ruth asked, one hand on the menu card.
‘Not of my own, but I have a little brother. He’s only nine, so I feel your pain,’ Hannah said.
‘Oh God, I remember Nathan at that age. Star Trek this, Star Wars that. Tantrums he should have grown out of if his Lego Millennium Falcon was touched.’ Ruth smiled again. ‘Do you still live at home with him? Or have you escaped?’
Hannah found herself frowning at the thought of how much time she’d spent in Ian’s flat.
The door on that escape route had slammed closed.
But that was more information than she was willing to give.
Instead, she forced a smile. ‘Oh, he’s not that bad.
And if necessary, I go and lie down in a darkened room. ’
‘Cold wet flannel on your forehead?’
‘Sometimes.’
Ruth hooted with laughter, then slid out from the bench, menu card in her hand. ‘Well, if you don’t mind me sitting with you, I’ll go and order. Do you want anything?’
Hannah shook her head and concentrated on nibbling more sandwich, finding herself tracking Ruth’s movements as she waited for her to return.
‘I shouldn’t stay too long,’ Ruth said as she sat down again.
‘Although she likes to feel all grown up, Millie will wonder where I am, eventually anyway. And I should be at the cabin for when Nathan gets back. He’s…
Well, long and rather sordid story short, I got divorced recently.
It was awful, and Nathan took it all very badly.
So, I should be around for him, even if he thinks he doesn’t need me. Or want me.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ Hannah said.
Ruth frowned, then her expression cleared again.
‘This cruise is supposed to put a bit of a spring back in all our steps, to begin to move forwards. Although I didn’t realise how small the cabin was going to be – it might be enough to get to the conclusion of this cruise without having killed either of my children, truth be told.
They’ve already had an argument about the bunk beds. ’
Hannah felt a stab of guilt at her own luxurious cabin. ‘Which deck are you on?’
‘Three. We’ve got one of the internal cabins – budget didn’t stretch to one with a window. But it’s close to the lifts, and there are so many places to look at the view. Like here.’
Ruth smiled as she waved her hand at the windows, but the etched frown remained, as though she was making the best of a bad job and had been doing so for a while.
‘What deck are you on?’ Ruth asked as her pot of tea was delivered to the table and she thanked the server.
It was Hannah’s turn to frown. ‘Deck 7.’
‘Ooh. I looked at those cabins – well, rather more accurately I dreamed about those cabins. Lucky you. Are you here with—’
Hannah sucked in a breath, her frown deepening.
This was exactly what she didn’t want – to have to talk about why she was here alone.
And yet, there was something genuinely open about Ruth’s expression.
Something that spoke to supportiveness in the gaze of this woman, even though they’d only just met.
‘None of my business,’ Ruth said, pouring a little milk into her cup.
‘No – it’s not… It’s just…’ Hannah took a breath and made her decision. ‘I’m supposed to be on my honeymoon.’
‘Supposed to be?’
Hannah’s expression must have spoken volumes, because Ruth shook her head. ‘Again. None of my business.’
‘No. I’m going to have to talk about it sooner or later,’ Hannah said. ‘I was just hoping I could make the “later” thing last for a decade… or two.’
‘I’m not telling you what to do,’ Ruth said, taking the lid from her teapot and peering inside.
She grinned. ‘That’s a classic thing people say before they then proceed to tell you what to do, isn’t it?
Anyway – all I was going to say was that when I had my first child…
bear with me, this is relevant, I promise…
basically after waiting far too long to start a family, everything went wrong with the birth and my husband was useless and I survived by talking about how hard I found it all to friends, relatives, people in shops – really anyone who stood still long enough.
And the more I told people, the more I realised they also had their own horror stories about having children and I began to feel better.
I wasn’t alone. Therapy, but on the cheap.
And sometimes talking about it with complete strangers was far easier than with people I knew. ’
Ruth poured a cup of tea. ‘I think I just offered myself as a free counsellor but feel at liberty to completely decline the random offer from a total stranger. I won’t mind a bit. Mine cheated on me – my husband, I mean. There, I’ve started it off.’
‘Mine too. Although he wasn’t even my husband. I found out a few weeks before the wedding.’
Ruth paused, grimacing. ‘Oh God. Sorry. Now I feel really bad. At least Trev waited a decade or so before he fell for the charms of his secretary. At least, I think he did… Such a cliché, but then he’s a walking cliché, so I suppose I shouldn’t have been so surprised.
And the irony is he didn’t even end up with her.
She dumped him for his boss. Found himself another sucker though.
A young and rather beautiful one, as it happens.
’ Ruth shrugged. ‘Maybe it’s not as bad as you think. ’
‘Mmm?’ Hannah decided words were optional – mostly because she had no idea what to say after such a barrage of unrequested information.
Ruth frowned, taking in Hannah’s expression.
‘I’m being insensitive, aren’t I? Apologies – people tell me I’m an oversharer, that I don’t know when to stop.
But I just mean it might have saved you a precious twenty years.
’ Ruth gave a rueful smile, an expression flitting across her face that Hannah couldn’t quite place.
‘Maybe you’ve dodged a bullet, is what I’m trying, very clumsily, to say. ’
Did it feel like that? Like she’d had a lucky escape from Ian?
She supposed logic might dictate as much, but logic was competing against a far more powerful adversary.
Because battling against love was a seriously tough gig.
There was no ignoring the fact that Hannah had loved Ian with a fierce enough intensity to have thought there could be no possible future worth considering if he wasn’t a part of it…
And yet, here she was, doing a lot more than considering it.
Her situation was way past that. She was now facing a future without him, but with the emotions built over a decade of knowing him still tripping over themselves to hold her attention.
Hannah couldn’t reply, her throat constricted tightly enough to barely allow air to get through.
She needed to get out, get back to her cabin before she broke down.
Pushing her plate aside, Hannah stood, holding a hand up in what she hoped Ruth would interpret as an apologetic gesture as she fled the Crow’s Nest and ran all the way back to her cabin, locking herself inside as she began to sob.