As Alastair’s favourite subject was Alastair, he was fairly easy to manipulate. ‘There are quite a few to choose from. Cling film on the loo was a favourite at uni.’ He laughed. Everyone else looked mildly alarmed. ‘And putting salt in with the sugar. That made someone throw up,’ he said proudly. ‘But my best gag was advertising a mate’s car on the uni noticeboard. He had so many phone calls. It was hilarious.’ Again only Alastair was laughing but at least things had moved on and the spotlight was no longer on Ros.
Ros decided there was a special circle of hell reserved for people who organised team awaydays. At least this year’s event had a bigger budget than the previous one of playing a giant version of Monopoly, where they’d dressed up as the game pieces, at a sad-looking hotel near Southampton airport. This year when they’d said there was a surprise regarding the awayday, she’d very much hoped they were going to reveal it had been cancelled.
After the team icebreaker session, they were all called back together and the CEO, Clive, got up on a podium to announce that they were spending the day crewing yachts and would be going out as a flotilla. This was an actual nightmare of Ros’s. Granted, this time it was unlikely that Jaws would be steering the boat but still she could feel panic rising. She reached for her metaphorical safety net that rarely let her down.
‘Can I ask a question?’
‘Of course, Ros, go ahead,’ said Clive although she could see a nerve twitching in his jaw.
‘Has someone completed a full risk assessment? This is a lot of employees to have on one boat. I’d be happy to take a look at—’
‘Thanks, Ros, but that won’t be necessary. All the required forms have been completed and we are split across a number of vessels, all with experienced skippers from a company that are fully insured and do this very successfully, without incident.’
‘Until now,’ said Alastair in a half-cough.
‘I can’t swim!’ blurted out Ros and someone spluttered a laugh. She suspected it was Alastair but she was too gripped by fear to admonish him.
‘That’s fine, everyone will have one of these,’ said a friendly-looking man holding up a bright red life jacket.
‘At least we’ll be able to find the body,’ said Alastair, laughing alone as usual.
The first fiasco was putting on the life jackets. They were all grouped on the pontoon next to their allocated yacht, individually trying to work out what went where. As one of the straps went between her legs, Ros was pleased she’d read the instructions and worn jeans, unlike Tiffany whose skirt was now bunched up around her backside. Life jackets were not the most comfortable garments. ‘These are ridiculous,’ said Ros to Sonia.
‘Try wearing one overmychest,’ said Sonia. ‘One size fits all? My arse,’ she added, trying to do it up under her ample bust.
‘Let me help,’ said Ros, adjusting the buckles at the side and fiddling with the fastening at the front.
‘Thanks,’ said Sonia. ‘I’m not keen on the water either. Got knocked over by a wave at Bognor Regis when I was a toddler.’
‘Same but on the Isle of Wight. I didn’t like the seaweed, pebbles, salty taste or the thought of crabs. Not a word, Alastair,’ said Ros, wagging a finger in his direction.
‘Don’t worry, it’ll be a walk in the park,’ said Sonia with a smile.
‘More like Jurassic Park,’ said Ros, taking a deep breath and climbing aboard.
Ros had to admit, the experience wasn’t entirely awful. When she was below deck or when she was sitting down, it wasn’t too bad. She made a trip to the loo last as long as feasibly possible to avoid being on deck. Unfortunately poor Sonia discovered she suffered from seasickness so Ros had to vacate her safe place in the toilet. But she did keep going back down to check Sonia was okay.
Ros took hold of ropes when she was asked to but drew the line at dangling her legs over the side. Some of the men were finding it an adrenaline rush to stand on the bow of the boat and declare ‘I’m the king of the world!’
Ros focused on the blue sky. It was a glorious spring day so that was something to be thankful for. The added insult of bad weather would have been too much.
Ros had been allocated the task of tying the mooring rope around the cleat, a T-shaped piece of metal, on the pontoon. As she stood on the side of the yacht her hands were sweating with the stress and anticipation of getting the timing right and completing the only task solely allocated to her.
The vessel drew closer and closer as it came into the berth. ‘Jump!’ yelled someone and without checking Ros leapt off the boat. There was a moment where she landed with both feet on the wobbly pontoon but it was only for a second as her momentum propelled her across the narrow walkway and she flopped face first into the water on the other side. She wasn’t expecting the life jacket to explode but that’s exactly what happened. A load bang released the mechanism inside the jacket and as it instantly inflated she was unceremoniously tipped onto her back.
She bobbed there spitting water in all directions like an errant fountain, although she knew it wasn’t just sea water; she’d seen the pictures of what was pumped into the sea.
‘Man overboard,’ yelled someone.
‘Woman,’ snapped Ros from the murky water below.
‘Ros,’ called their captain, leaning over the side of the boat. ‘What happened?’
‘You shouted jump,’ she said with obvious frustration.
‘No, I didn’t.’
Sniggering from on deck answered some questions.
