Old Girls on Deck

Chapter 1

I was doing the ironing that morning when the phone rang. Not many people I know like that particular household chore, but I always have. Mainly because I have discovered that after so many years, I can do it without thinking. And at the same time watch American crime series on my laptop. And of course, now both our boys had left home there wasn’t so much ironing to do any more. I say boys, Joe and Luke are both in their thirties. But at least with the ironing, I had something to show at the end of it which counted as a good thing, otherwise I would have just watched box sets all afternoon and probably eaten a lot of chocolate. And now that he’s retired my husband, Eddy, is wandering around the house looking for entertainment or Jaffa Cakes all the time, and if I am gainfully employed behind an ironing board, he can’t expect either.

I think I have unusual taste for a woman of sixty-three. I like American police dramas where all the police and detectives are good looking and muscular. It always disappoints me when I see actual cops on television or in real life, and they are nothing like their screen counterparts. I’ve certainly never seen any in the high street with the sort of physiques, designer clothes, make-up, and shoes that they have in box sets. And they have vast, loft-style apartments despite the high cost of living in New York where apparently a bed in a cupboard can cost thousands in rent.

I like car chases too and have always had a soft spot for Steve McQueen in Bullitt. Nothingwill convince me that he was not the coolest man who ever lived.

I’m quite partial to courtroom dramas too, when the clever and very attractive young woman with flicky hair and four-inch Louboutin’s runs rings around the crusty old lawyers, demolishing their arguments, welcoming unexpected last-minute witnesses and also managing to have a satisfactory, if complicated, love life with an equally handsome district attorney.

They always cook vast breakfasts in their huge kitchens in box sets too, which no one ever seems to eat because they are always being called away to the White House or police headquarters for urgent meetings. I wish someone would cook me breakfast occasionally. In over thirty years Eddy never had. He knows how to open the fridge and occasionally close it, but I don’t think he would know one end of a saucepan from another.

While I’m ironing, I can also look out of the window, which that late November morning was smeared with rain, and watch the activity on my bird table. I was already signed up to taking part in the yearly January birdwatch, to count how many different birds I see in my garden. I’ve even got some binoculars on the kitchen windowsill. And every year, I think what an old person thing that is to do. Still, I do enjoy it.

My sons laugh at me and ruffle my hair. Joe sends me messages asking if I’ve seen any dodos yet. Or bald eagles nesting in the nearby supermarket. ‘Look at you and your little checklist,’ they’d say, and I laughed too, but secretly I felt a bit puzzled.

One minute I was young, wearing tie-dyed T-shirts and cheesecloth skirts, staying up all night and functioning on black coffee, Consulate menthol cigarettes and alcohol, the next I am looking thoughtfully at jars of Ovaltine and buying birdseed in bulk from Amazon. And being excited about it. It’s very different from how things used to be. Two glasses of wine these days and I’m falling asleep.

My neighbour claims to have seen a redwing last winter, so he leads in the local birdwatching role of honour, and jealous rivals shun him in Morrisons. My sister Diana understands; many is the time she has rung me to tell me about the spotted woodpecker in her oak tree or the robins on her garage roof.

And then my mobile buzzed importantly on the worktop. I put the iron down and paused Blue Bloods, where one of the Reagan family were being clever, gritty, and brave capturing yet another Mexican drug cartel boss. Or it might have been the same one, I wasn’t sure. The one in the last series was supposed to have been blown up in a plane, but Mexican drug cartel bosses have a strange ability to survive most things. And despite there being thirty-five thousand other cops in New York, it was only a matter of time before the detective’s brother turned up. That would mean they would solve the case and go back to someone’s glamorous house or perhaps a cute diner for another huge breakfast that they wouldn’t get to eat.

I picked the phone up without looking, I assumed it was Diana; she phones me at least once a day, usually about something unimportant, but it’s nice to hear from her anyway. At least I get an idea of her mood. Since she was widowed, she’s doing very well, but I know she must be very lonely. There have been a lot of unhappy, tearful calls over the last five years, which more often than not saw me in my car going over to try and help. Her new neighbour, Tom, seems to have developed a bit of a crush on her recently. He’s always washing out her recycling bins and offering to trim her hedges, so to speak.

‘Ahoy there! Everything okay?’

‘That’s the correct answer!’ said an excited voice and then there was the sound of cheering and explosions and car horns and I nearly rang off because I thought it was a nuisance call, or someone was trying to sell me something.

‘Who is this?’ I said in my best headmistressy voice, which I never was but it comes in very useful for this sort of occasion, and there was the sound of more cheering and laughter and again I was tempted to put the phone down.

‘This is Steve “the Groover” Groove, and you are live on Radio Wonderful,’ he said.

Radio Wonderful. Well, I used to listen to that channel many years ago because the boys liked it, but then I got fed up with the bad language, the terrible music, and all the endless phone-ins about how unfair everything is, and I switched to Radio 2. But they seem to be getting rid of all the people I like there too, so it’s only a matter of time before I give up entirely. It was never the same after Terry Wogan left and the departure of Ken Bruce was the last straw.

‘I’d better not swear then,’ I said.

On the laptop screen in front of me, the rough-looking detective was still frozen, his mouth curled in a snarl, as he headed through another derelict warehouse in pursuit of the criminals.

‘No indeed you’d better not,’ the other person chortled, ‘because you are our winner.’

Steve “the Groover” Groove. Ah yes, I’d seen him on television recently, on some interminable game show where the only requirements seemed to be an ability to laugh hysterically at everything and wear trousers that were too tight and too short. Young men will be back in doublet and hose soon if things don’t change.

‘What have I won?’ I asked, still not sure this wasn’t someone wanting to interfere with my internet provider.

‘Our fabulous ten-day cruise to the Med,’ was the reply, ‘with Voyage Première cruise lines. All expenses paid.’

I was shocked, and speechless for a moment.

‘Does that include the drinks too?’

Raucous, choking laughter. ‘No, I’m afraid not. You’re a naughty one, aren’t you? I can tell you’re going to be trouble. Now then, stay there, I’m going to phone you back in a moment and fill you in with all the details. And then I can report back to our listeners. Meanwhile here’s Pond Slime with their latest hit, “Tread on Me, You Scumbag”.’

Yes, well that reinforced my opinion of modern music.

The phone call went dead, and Eddy came into the kitchen holding the morning’s post.

‘Nothing interesting,’ he said, leafing through the envelopes, ‘a bill, another bill, this one’s from the electricity board so it will be more of a William. Who was that on the phone?’

‘Steve Groove,’ I said, not taking my eyes off my mobile, willing it to ring.

‘Who’s that? The chap from the council about the recycling?’

‘Steve “the Groover” Groove. Off the radio. Apparently I’ve won a cruise.’

‘Really? That’s nice. Are there any Jaffa Cakes?’

I rolled my eyes. Eddy loves Jaffa Cakes with a passion and I hide them from him in empty cereal boxes. The promise of them had meant I have been able to wangle many things out of him. Not least a shopping trip to Cribbs Causeway last Christmas and a holiday in France instead of Cornwall for once.

‘Did you hear what I just said? I’ve won a ten-day cruise to the Mediterranean.’

He looked thoughtful. ‘Hmm. A cruise. When is it? You should take Diana, she knows all about life on board ship, and she could do with cheering up, don’t you think?’

I was quite shocked for a moment. ‘Don’t you want to come with me?’

I was a bit miffed at his reaction. At how rapidly he had declined to come and found me a travelling companion in the space of five seconds.

Eddy chuckled. ‘I get seasick going over the Severn Bridge, remember?’

Well, yes, that was true, but even so, I wasn’t that awful a holiday companion, was I?

He opened and closed a few cupboard doors in his search for other biscuits, despite the fact that they are and always have been in the pantry, in a plastic box with one of the postman’s red, elastic bands round it to keep the mice out.

I say ‘search’, Eddy did what most men do, gave a perfunctory glance around the shelves, and prodded a couple of tins with a dissatisfied finger before admitting defeat. I could probably hide a submachine gun in the fridge, and he wouldn’t notice if it was behind the milk.

But back to the prospect of a free holiday. I tried to persuade him.

‘Yes but… I mean a free cruise. Sightseeing, entertainment, excitement, gala nights, lovely food. We could properly celebrate your retirement. You watched that programme with me, about cruising with Jane McDonald. It looked like fun.’

Eddy came back out of the pantry triumphantly after a second look, with a multipack of KitKats in this hand and looked pensive.

‘Well maybe. But it would be more fun for me, if you were away for ten days, and then I could build the patio I’ve been thinking about. I could get Simon and Big Tommy to help, and Billy, they’d enjoy it too. By the time you came back it would be finished and you wouldn’t be able to complain about the noise or the mud or anything.’

‘Yes, I suppose so.’

More fun for me if you were away for ten days. What?

How insulting was that? Although the idea of a patio had been floating around between us for about ten years and nothing had been done about it. Nor had the pergola I asked for materialised, and we had been talking about doing that since we moved in twenty-four years ago. We had both agreed it would be a nice idea to have one in a secluded corner of the garden. Now we both had more free time, it had become something that would be really useful. I imagined us sitting out on a balmy summer evening, drinking wine with various friends.

At that moment the phone rang again with a London number, and I pounced on it.

‘Hello, lucky winner! This is Steve “the Groover” Groove, who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?’

‘Jill “the Joker” Parker,’ I replied, not to be outdone.

More choking laughter.

‘You’re a one, I can tell that already, Jill,’ he replied. ‘Now then, I’m going to put you on to one of my researchers who will fill you in on all the details. Where you will be going and when. All we ask is that you agree that the ship’s photographer can take some publicity shots of you during the voyage. Nothing intrusive, but the Voyage Première people want to use this as some good publicity, after all the negative stuff they had on the maiden voyage. I’m sure you remember that?’

I did, it had been all over the papers a few months ago. People being ill – they claimed it was norovirus, I think – problems with the drains and the air conditioning, not to mention the weather in the Baltic, which had been terrible. There wasn’t much point paying for an upgrade and having a balcony if it was covered in sleet.

‘Sounds okay to me,’ I said cheerfully, throwing a hard look at Eddy. But he was eating a KitKat and flicking through an old tool hire booklet, because heaven forbid, I ever throw them away. There is a special basket for all his catalogues, which is full of them and overflowing onto the worktop. ‘Tool Porn,’ I call it. Still, I’m the same with the Lakeland brochures.

‘Excellent, right, hold on and I’ll get Fiona the Fixer to speak to you, and happy sailing!’

Fiona the Fixer, who sounded very young and overexcited, as though she had been mainlining double espressos all morning, spoke to me at length about the details while Eddy continued opening the post and chuckled with glee as he held up the new Screwfix catalogue as though he had just won an Oscar. Each to their own, I suppose.

Actually, if I thought about it, Diana probably would enjoy this trip if I could persuade her to go. She’d been getting a bit odd in recent months. Not reclusive, exactly, just not her old self. Not the sister I remembered. And let’s be honest, Eddy wouldn’t have much fun if he spent ten days hanging over the ship’s rail throwing up and complaining.

Then, with Fiona’s eager promises of emails, communication and all the information I would need, I took the last shirt from the laundry basket, switched the grimacing, brave detective on again, and marvelled as he drove like a maniac through the streets of Manhattan, went into another abandoned warehouse (were there really that many, and if so, why?) and shouted at some criminals who had thought it was a good place for their nefarious activities.

Then, having made another cup of coffee, and calmed down a bit from all the excitement, I rang my sister.

As always, she answered my call with ‘Ahoy there’, and it made me laugh.

‘That particular phrase, of which you are so fond, has just got us both into a certain situation. Are you sitting down?’ I said.

I heard a scraping noise as she pulled out one of her kitchen stools.

‘I am, fire away. You sound excited.’

‘Well,’ I took a gulp of air, ‘first of all, when is Sam’s wedding?’

Diana’s son, Sam, had recently announced his engagement to his partner, Felicity (but call me Fizz, everyone does), the willowy, vegetarian, Professor of History he had been dating for years. They were due to marry later next year in her parents’ castle in Scotland which had a wedding licence for a few select events. As his godmother and favourite aunt, okay, only aunt, I had been assured of an invite.

They were such a happy couple, but I still wasn’t sure why they had decided to tie the knot, perhaps it was for tax reasons. Perhaps they just wanted to formalise things as they approached middle age?

But what is middle age? I remember when it used to be thirty-five. Recently I read that sixty is the new forty. Which means fifty-five is middle aged, so we are all going to live to one hundred and ten?

‘They haven’t set a date yet, but they were talking about December next year.’

‘December in Scotland, what a terrible idea,’ I said. ‘I bet it’s going to be freezing.’

‘Well, yes, probably?—’

‘Anyway, that’s good because it can’t possibly clash. You know I used to listen to Radio Wonderful? I mean, I don’t now because I got fed up with it.’

Diana gave a little chuckle. ‘Yes, ghastly music, too much noise and rude words. I don’t know why you liked it.’

‘It made me laugh; and I suppose I was trying to keep up with things. Anyway…’

‘And someone is always complaining about some perceived slight. Why are young people all so angry when they have so much going for them?’

I tutted in exasperation. ‘Okay, you miserable old biddy. Calm down. What do you say when you answer the phone?’

‘You know perfectly well. I say “Ahoy there”. Because Casper was a sailor, and he always did. It was a joke.’

‘Exactly. And because Alexander Graham Bell said it was the polite way to answer the telephone. Well…’

‘Is there a point to this conversation?’ she asked.

‘If you will pipe down – which is also a nautical term – I will tell you. I was doing the ironing and watching Blue Bloods on my laptop, and watching a squirrel on the bird table, so that counts as multi-tasking I think. Apart from that, I was feeling bored, because it wasn’t even bin day, so I really had nothing to look forward to other than the possibility of the woman next door coming around to complain to Eddy about the council, when the house phone rang.’

‘Such excitement!’

‘And I answered, “ahoy there” because I assumed it was you, and of course it wasn’t.’

Diana sighed. ‘But? Do get to the point.’

‘I am, if you’ll just listen. Well, it was Steve “the Groover” Groove. You must have heard of him?’

‘Vaguely,’ she agreed.

‘You know the one. Annoying little screwed-up face, like a rabbit with constipation. He has the breakfast show; Music with your muesli. Keener than quinoa.’

I stood up and put the phone on speaker. On the screen in front of me the rough-looking detective one was frozen again, his mouth curled in another snarl, as he headed home through another derelict alleyway and on to his next adventure in pursuit of criminals.

‘Go on,’ she said.

‘Well, I haven’t listened to that channel for a bit because you’re right, and I got fed up with it; I realised the music is all the same. Everyone sounds so miserable and moaning, but apparently they have been running a competition. And I’ve won!’

‘Oh, how exciting, and only the other day you were saying you never win anything.’

‘Well, it’s not Premium Bonds or the Lottery. But this is almost as good. And you, Diana Wedderburn, are coming with me.’

‘I’m not going to Glastonbury,’ she said, ‘I’ve heard about the toilets. There’s no way…’

‘Not Glastonbury, don’t be daft. You’re not going to believe this. There is no one better equipped to come with me than you. It’s from Southampton to the Mediterranean.’

There was a long pause when I wondered for a moment if we had been cut off.

‘Really?’ She sounded less than enthusiastic.

‘Ferrets bite me if I lie. Steve “the Groover” Groove talked to me off the air afterwards, and he was really charming, well-spoken without that strange Lunnon accent he puts on, and he didn’t swear or anything. Then he put me on to Fiona the Fixer who told me all about it. Steve was making random calls to people and the first one to answer with “Ahoy there”, won the prize, and that was me. And it’s all thanks to you.’

‘Good heavens!’ Diana gasped, ‘Oh dear.’

‘It’s a ten-day cruise for two people to the Western Med on the Avanti. It’s the first leg of their world cruise. You know, that new cruise ship that’s just been launched. It had the maiden voyage about eight months ago and lots of people claimed to have norovirus. And some of the cabins flooded because a couple of pipes burst. I bet your husband would have been absolutely incandescent if he had been captain of that ship. There was all the fuss about people wanting refunds, you know, sad faces in front of the camera.’

‘I’d be sad too if I got norovirus and my cabin flooded. And yes, Casper would have been furious. It doesn’t bear thinking about. He used to do a lot of shouting, especially when the sunbeds weren’t put out properly.’

I pressed on. ‘So, because they had so much bad publicity, the Voyage Première cruise line decided to give away a prize, for some good publicity. And heaven help us, I won it.’

I felt another little burst of excitement at the prospect. A ten-day cruise. Wow.

‘But doesn’t Eddy want to come with you? Surely, he’d enjoy that?’ Diana said, sounding worried.

I bit down my disappointment at her lack of excitement. I’d have to handle this carefully, not storm in, all guns blazing, like I usually did. Married to a cruise captain, my sister had been all over the world. I on the other hand was married to Eddy who regarded holidays abroad as something to be avoided.

‘He says not. He says now he has retired he has plans for the garden next year. He’s decided he wants to start clearing away those scruffy flower beds by the French doors and build a patio. And he says it will be far easier to do it without me around, interfering and complaining about the noise and the making silly suggestions. He’s going to ask his brother and some friends to help. Like a boys’ project. With bigger tools. If you’ll excuse the expression.’

Diana sighed. ‘Oh, I don’t know. That’s very generous of him. But I bet he will change his mind.’

‘Oh, he won’t, you know Eddy. Once he gets a sniff of paving slabs and bags of concrete, he’ll be like a dog outside a butcher’s shop. And he said it would be more fun doing the patio without me, and I thought about being offended, but he’s probably right. Anyway, wouldn’t you like a change of scenery?’

My sister hesitated. ‘I’ve barely been anywhere since Casper died, actually. And with all the terrible things you hear on the news, I’m beginning to think it’s safer to stay close to home.’

‘You can’t live like that forever though,’ I said, biting down my frustration and trying to sound reassuring, ‘and what better way than this? We will have each other for company, everything will be organised for us. A car from the front door to the ship. Everything paid for.’

Diana made a doubting noise. ‘Except for the drinks. We’ll start drinking strange things at odd hours and we won’t really remember them until the final bill comes through. They slip it under the door in the middle of the night, like a poison pen letter. And then we’ll have an outraged half hour when we think of going down to the purser’s desk to complain, and then we start remembering. And we are rightly embarrassed and pay up.’

‘I suppose we get a receipt?’ I said.

‘After ten days you won’t care, or have them all in any sort of order,’ she said, ‘but if you are anything like me, you will have collected a lot of biros from the waiters. I’ve still got a few.’

I was cheered by this, it sounded almost as though she was coming around to the idea.

‘Well, we can deal with that when the time comes,’ I said, ‘but wouldn’t it be such fun? I mean what else would we be doing? It’s only ten days. And we can do what we like, no one else to consider.’

‘I really – I’m not sure. Let me think about it. I’d have to run it past Eric, he phoned me this morning.’

Eric was Casper’s younger brother, Diana’s now overbearing brother-in-law, who seemed to have assumed ownership of her since she had been widowed. In my opinion, this was because she was nearly always available for baby-sitting or ironing. He and his third, much younger wife, Rose, had recently had a baby. Rose had plenty of time to post videos on TikTok and Instagram of herself floating around the garden in a shady hat and flicky eyeliner or having lunch with ‘the girls’ but apparently not enough time to do the housework.

‘Oh yes, what did he want?’

‘He wants me to research tartan to wear to Sam’s wedding. He says he had an aunt who was a Campbell.’

‘Eric wrapped in a red and white soup label? Very Andy Warhol.’

Diana giggled. ‘I don’t think that’s quite what he had in mind.’

‘And when is the wedding anyway? Have they decided yet?’

‘I’ve told you already. December next year at the MacLeods’ castle. And the MacLeods have their own tartan. Eric says he would feel pretty tame just turning up in a suit if they are covered in sporrans with a claymore down each sock.’

I laughed. ‘I think he means a skene dhu. A claymore is a battle sword. And there is plenty of time to sort tartan out. The wedding isn’t until next year.’

Felicity’s father, Hamish, and her brothers Fraser and Angus were built like highland outhouses thanks to generations of MacLeods taking bracing walks across the glen and lots of porridge. They would look very dashing in full Scottish dress with their red hair – and in Fraser’s case, beard – tamed for the occasion. Whereas Eric, with his spindly legs and hunched posture thanks to his years as an orthodontist, probably wouldn’t.

‘So, getting back to the subject, promise to come with me. We’ll have some laughs and a lot of fun. And don’t go looking for excuses at the last minute. I never did get you to commit to coming to London with me. And you know all about life on board a cruise ship. It would be like having my personal tour guide with me.’

‘It’s been a long time since I did anything like that,’ she said sounding worried again.

‘Oh, come on! It’ll be absolutely marvellous. Get your glad rags out, pack a bag full of all your twinkliest frocks and make sure your passport is up to date, because before you know it, we will be sailing away on a sea of champagne. I’ve seen the Jane McDonald programmes. But then when she did that programme about solo cruising, she can’t have been on her own. There must have been a camera crew there with her. Which is cheating.’

‘I wish I had her confidence. I’ve been on so many cruises over the years, but now Casper’s gone, I’m afraid it wouldn’t be the same.’

I tutted. ‘No, of course it won’t be the same. But that doesn’t mean it couldn’t still be fun. And I have been longing for us to go on a girls’ trip together. For us to have a few laughs. The last time we did was your hen weekend before you married Casper. And that was only to Bristol. Oooh, actually I’ve got another load of emails coming in. I bet it’s about the cruise. I’ll call you back.’

I rang off and looked out of the window in time to see a grey squirrel fall off the net of peanuts I’d hung up the previous day.

‘Serve you right, you little blighter. Clear off! Those aren’t for you,’ I shouted at him.

It was the squirrel with the lop-sided ears and the tuft on the end of its tail. How pathetic that I was beginning to identify individual squirrels. I’d be giving them names next.

I went back to my laptop and opened my emails from Radio Wonderful. Having skim read them I forwarded them all to Diana. Then I clicked on some of the helpful links which took me to the Voyage Première cruise line website and not for the first time wondered how this sort of thing was possible before the internet was invented.

It was terrifically exciting with photos of attractive couples smiling everywhere with their perfect teeth. Admiring their food, joining in with dance classes, drinking cocktails in front of a gorgeous sunset, before heading off for some sparkling entertainment in the Ocean Spray theatre, and after that probably some marvellous sex in one of the luxuriously appointed suites.

There was one picture of a lone woman who presumably was supposed to represent the single traveller. Even she was attractive and glossy with a perfect silver bob, as she looked out over the sea with a little smile on her lips and a cocktail glass in her hand. I bet she wasn’t wondering if she had remembered to put the right bins out, as I would have been.

‘A new cruise ship for a new age,’ it said. Designed for unparalleled comfort, safety and excitement, the Avanti was timeless yet modern. Spacious yet intimate. Elegant yet relaxing. Stylish yet familiar. It promised to be all things to all travellers. It was probably also big but small. Fast but slow.

It didn’t mention anything about norovirus or flooding, so perhaps those had indeed been teething troubles which had now been fixed.

The Avanti also had the distinctive red, white, and blue funnels of the Voyage Première cruise line, state of the art stabilisers (which made me imagine some huge wheels, sticking out on either side of the ship), and sleek lines, which looking at the pictures of the buffet, was a term which would probably not be applied to me and my sister when we left the ship after ten days being greedy and undisciplined. Perhaps I should go on a pre-cruise diet.

I scrolled thought some of the cruises on offer and clicked on a link to the one I had won. Southampton to Athens, calling in at some very exciting places.

Then, as I still had a few tea towels to do, I switched the grimacing, brave detective on again, and marvelled as he dodged bullets, hid behind abandoned machinery, and eventually dispatched another cartel leader with an extra special snarl. I think he was definitely dead that time. Marvellous.

I put away the ironing board, left the washing basket at the bottom of the stairs in case Eddy might deign to take it upstairs, and rang Diana again.

‘I’ve been reading the emails you sent me, and it does sound tremendous,’ she said, ‘and I’ve been googling the Avanti. It’s the newest ship on the Voyage Première line. The same one Casper worked for. We went on so many of their ships when he was working his way up. The Tosca, the Atlantica, Then the Pacifica and of course the Pirandello.’

‘But… there’s just one thing.’

Diana’s anxiety was instant. ‘What’s the problem? I knew there would be something. Are we sleeping in hammocks in the bilges?’

‘No, not at all. The thing is, I think the cruise line were expecting the winners to be younger than we are. Which is why they offered the prize to Radio Wonderful in the first place. They were a bit surprised that a couple of old gals like us will be going. I think they were expecting to attract younger people. Fiona the Fixer rang me again to make sure the emails had arrived, and she asked if I was happy to be going in the sort of sad, sympathetic voice that was hoping I would say no. I said yes, of course. I think for two pins she would have asked if I had some children who would like to go instead of us. But then of course that would have been ageist of her, so she didn’t dare.’

‘So do you? Have someone younger who would like to go with you?’

I tutted with exasperation. ‘Of course I don’t. You’re my sister and my best friend, and heaven knows you deserve a treat. So do I. It’s ages since we did anything exciting together. Wouldn’t you like an adventure?’

‘Oh, I don’t know. Maybe. But… only if you are absolutely sure Eddy doesn’t want to go?’

I sighed. ‘Eddy has already gone down to the builders’ merchants to do some research, and has been drooling over the Screwfix brochure. You wouldn’t think an adult male could get so excited about weed proof membrane and sand, would you?’

‘Each to their own.’

‘That’s what I thought. Right, we need to get together to discuss what we are going to take and whether we need to buy some more evening wear. They do have a couple of gala evenings. A car will pick me up from my house, then you, and drive us to Southampton. There are photographers on board and one of them will be taking pictures of us enjoying ourselves which the Avanti people will use as publicity. We don’t mind that, do we?’

‘Not at all, unless they are going to follow us into the bathroom or start filming us when we are asleep. But those photographers have to work tremendously hard as it is, I don’t envy them having to traipse around us.’

‘They want to show us having a wonderful time with lots of exciting activities. Have you looked at the website? Everyone looks so happy. Grinning away like maniacs. We will stick out like a sore thumb. Two old birds shambling around amidst all those elegant couples. Apparently there is a climbing wall on the ship. So, when are you free? Let’s go out to lunch somewhere and talk about it.’

‘Okay, what about tomorrow?’ Diana said.

I did a silent fist pump of triumph. She was going to come with me.

‘We don’t go until April which, of course, is months away. But doesn’t mean we can’t get excited.’