I look and spot her. Pretty girl. Light brown hair in a French roll. I wonder if she did that herself or used the on-board salon.
‘That’s my friend Jess. Last year she went on a cruise with her ex-boyfriend Dominic. They were clueless too until they got chatting to a whole table of swingers at dinner.’
‘Wow,’ I reply. ‘They must have been—’
‘Totally into it. Swapped with a couple from Poland.’
I cannot contain my laughter. ‘Whatever floats your boat!’ I reply. ‘No pun intended.’
‘She thought it was a one-time holiday thing. But her boyfriend thought it was the beginning of a new phase in their relationship. Hence the ex part.’
I see Jess wave Harper over. Harper acknowledges. ‘Looks like she’s had enough. I’d better run,’ she says. ‘Nice meeting you!’
‘You too,’ I reply, watching them skip off. I turn to look at the rest of the room, which seems to be emptying just as quickly, though I do see a woman in a flowery muumuu attach her face to a guy in tartan trousers. Good for them, I think, finishing my drink. At least someone is having fun. Me? Not so much. Time forHairspray#301.
I take the lift up to the main theatre, looking forward to singing along in my head, unless other people sing out loud in which case I’ll unabashedly join in. The glass-fronted lifts give quite the view of the ship, especially at night. Everything is warmly lit, with people sipping drinks on the terraces, surrounded by intermittent greenery from the plants, shrubs and flowers placed on each level. As I reach the theatre, I can already hear the buzz of the audience. Inside it’s exactly as I’d expect it to look. Three tiers of seating with a stage at the front, only this is far more glamorous. Neon lights stretch across the ceiling and the stage backdrop is illuminated in a vibrant blue. The seats aren’t reserved so I look for somewhere that isn’t too close to the abundance of hyper children already bouncing on seats.
I find a space beside a couple, smile politely and sit down. The opening music starts and the crowd whoops. I sit forward, almost giddy as ‘Good Morning Baltimore’ begins. Then I see Tracy Turnblad and my heart sinks a little. Is that a fat suit? She looks like pudgy Monica fromFriends. Disappointing.
Chapter 30
Two painstaking hours later, I leave the theatre and bump into Ellis on the stairs. After the evening I’ve had so far, I’m grateful to see a familiar face.
‘Been somewhere nice?’ he asks.
‘It depends on your definition of nice,’ I reply. ‘I mean, if you consider the singles’ mixer nice. . .’
He makes a yuck face.
‘Or the ruining of my favourite musical? Then, sure. It was nice.’
‘Ouch,’ he replies. ‘I’ve just come from the casino. Fancy a drink?’
‘I was planning to throw myself into that jaggy-looking shrubbery on floor four, but that might be fun too.’
We go to the piano bar on the atrium, which is low-key and relaxed. The pianist plays Carly Simon as we order drinks. It’s all very grown-up.
‘Singles’ mixer, huh?’ Ellis says with a grin. ‘Are you looking for a little cruise ship romance?’
‘Not quite,’ I reply.
‘A husband then?’ he asks. ‘You might be on the wrong ship, unless you plan on stealing Bob from Canada away from his wife Alice, who probably wouldn’t mind, given that they’ve been married for forty long, tedious years.’
I laugh. ‘No, nothing like that. It’s a long story.’
‘I have time,’ he replies, as the waiter brings our drinks.
‘So, I’ve been single forever and I read an article where a guy was looking to date but couldn’t meet anyone suitable. So he spent a year saying yes to everything.’
He takes a swig of his Guinness. ‘I have no idea what that means.’
‘I’m starting to feel the same,’ I reply. ‘Basically, I’m allowing myself to have opportunities which may lead to meeting someone I wouldn’t normally cross paths with, had I not allowed myself the opportunity.’
‘You know they have these things called dating apps?’
‘Ugh, I’ve tried and the less said about them the better. At work I’ve just signed off a campaign for one, Flirt First, and—’
‘Flirt First? That sounds awful. Is it like a competition to see who can come up with a cheesy opener?’
