Page 7 of Escape to the Sun

Ruth sighed. Standard operating procedure for her kids, to argue over something they both knew they really wanted anyway.

‘He’s not being selfish, Mils – he’s actually being kind.’ Ruth nearly added ‘for once’ but stopped herself. ‘He knows how much you like the top bunk.’

‘No. I’m not doing it for her benefit. I’m doing it because I read this cruise is all-inclusive, so I’m going to be drinking loads of alcohol, and I don’t want to fall out of bed.’

‘You will not be drinking alcohol on this trip, Nathan. You’re only sixteen; they won’t serve you. And anyway, I don’t know which brochure you were looking at, but this cruise is not all-inclusive, certainly not where alcohol is concerned, so don’t go getting any ideas. I have a budget, like always.’

Nathan tutted, looking in that moment the spitting image of his father as he regarded her with contempt. ‘Dad lets me drink when I’m with him.’

‘Well, you’re not with your bloody father now, are you?’ It was Ruth’s turn to lose her cool, her own voice rising with exasperation.

‘No. I’m not, am I? God, this Christmas is going to be so shit,’ Nathan said, pulling open the cabin door and heading through it.

Biting back her anger, Ruth followed him into the corridor. ‘Where are you going?’

‘Anywhere you two aren’t.’

Nathan had always been able to conjure an impressive flounce, and he did so as he delivered the parting shot and headed off along the corridor.

‘Have you got your phone with you?’ Ruth called after him. ‘Don’t get lost.’

The look he gave her over his shoulder had Ruth biting back tears.

‘How could I get lost? I’m on a bloody boat.’

He slouched away, hands in pockets, looking like he had the troubles of the world on his shoulders. And that it was all her fault. She’d got it all wrong again, when really what she wanted to do was make everything all right.

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.’