“You have not heard from the cruise?”
I shake my head. “No. I haven’t had any messages today. They usually send updates.”
She purses her lips. “I see. Let me just speak to my colleague.”
She spins in her chair and starts speaking in another language. I flinch as they get louder, certain they’re arguing until they smile at each other, and she spins back.
“I’m sorry but your cruise is not stopping in Kotor.”
“Not yet,” I correct. “But it is going to. It stops here.”
She shakes her head. “No. I’m afraid it has gone straight to the next port.” She leans forward to type on her computer. “Ah yes, to Taormina, in Italy.”
It takes me a few solid seconds to register her words. “No… That’s… I don’t understand.”
I feel a large, warm hand press against my lower back as Gus interjects.
“Thanks for your help,” he says, his voice tactfully smooth. “Can you tell us why they’ve skipped ahead?”
She gives us a look like we’re completely out of touch. “Well, because of the storm.”
I share a look with Gus. We glance out the window atthe pristine blue skies. Then turn to her again. Shehasto be messing with us.
“Sorry, what?!” we say in tandem.
She points at the TV screen on the wall behind us. Slowly, we step away from the desk and head in that direction. It’s a news update… Of course, it’s a local news channel so we don’t understand a word, but the graphics are decipherable. A massive storm front is heading straight towards the Adriatic Sea.
What the…
Gus stands beside me; his hand still pressed against my lower back. I don’t think it’s something to read into. He’s probably relaxed like this with everyone. He has that kind of personable energy. Even so, I can’t deny I’m starting to like it.
It means nothing.Focus Sara!
I have bigger fish to fry.
I run both my hands through my hair and pull at the roots a little.
Fuck.
SixteenCruise Location – At SeaNext Port – TaorminaTime of Arrival – 10:00 (GMT+1)
We stroll down the portside, past the cruise ships, towards the smaller docks with the fishing boats and private yachts, at a loss. A seafood restaurant beckons us. It’s quiet, with small, clothed tables set up outside on a raised front overlooking the bay.
Gus selects a table closest to the view but discreet enough for his face to be obscured from passers-by. He gives me an apologetic look. I’m still trying to come to terms with our situation.
“I can’t do another day of this,” I say. “It’s not that it’s been so bad. It’s just, well, I want to be the adventurous type, but I’d just like to do it in extreme comfort and surrounded by copious amounts offreefood and drink.”
“Not me,” Gus says, smirking. “I’m having the time of my life. This is the closest I’ve felt to freedom in years.”
I roll my eyes, taking a sip of the ice-cold water I ordered.
“What are we going to do? We can’t drive toSicily. It’s a whole sea away. The cruise will be on their way already, docking tomorrow morning. I don’t know how we catch them up now.”
Gus sits back, sighing. “We could fly?”
“Through a storm?”
“Well, I’m sure they’d go around it.”
