‘That’s insane. How can anyone survive without. . . well, you know?’
‘Sex?’ I ask. ‘I’m not a nun, Ellis. If I was, that whole Pray part would be a done deal.’
He laughs. ‘Sorry, I didn’t want to pry.’
I catch the eye of the friendly hostess. ‘Un altra mimosa e una birra. Grazie.’
‘Certo!’
‘Nice Italian,’ Ellis says. ‘Camilla would be proud.’
‘I looked it up on the train. I can also say “Where is the bathroom?” and “Go away”. I’m sure neither will—’
‘But seriously,’ he interrupts. ‘Twenty years! That’s a long time to be single. Was it intentional?’
‘I didn’t plan it!’ I exclaim. ‘My first and last proper relationship was in my twenties.’
‘The man who hated music?’
I laugh. ‘The very one. I was young and in love with him. His ego liked that I was young and in love with him. It wasn’t the best time. Screwed me up for a while.’
‘I can see how it would.’
‘After that, I never seemed to meet anyone I was into. Shit happens, I guess.’
‘It does,’ he replies. ‘Just don’t let one bad relationship ruin your chances of having another.’
My second mimosa arrives. My hangover has almost dissipated enough to make me consider ordering something stronger.
My hand reaches for the olives. ‘Enough about me. Let’s talk more about you.’
‘Not much left to say,’ he replies. ‘I got married in my twenties. Had two kids. Now I’m on a cruise and having a better time than I thought I would.’
‘But you still– how did you put it?– have no desire to get involved with anyone ever again, in any capacity. There isn’t a part of you that thinks it’d be nice to have someone again?’
I dip my bread into a little bowl of oil. Almost instantly my mouth lights up.
‘Nope,’ he replies firmly. ‘For the most part my marriage was a happy one. I don’t need any more love. I’ve had enough love to last me a lifetime. Are you OK? Did you bite your tongue?’
‘Nope,’ I respond, my lips feeling like they’ve been stung by an entire wasps’ nest. ‘I think they put lava in the dipping oil.’
He dips his bread in too. No reaction. ‘You don’t like chilli oil?’
I hold my napkin up to my mouth. ‘My body rejects anything hotter than ice cream.’ I find myself breathing in and rapidly, hoping the warm afternoon air will somehow counter the burning. ‘Give me a few hours. It’ll pass.’
Ellis stands up and walks away. I assume he’s bolted and accept that I’ll be finding my way back to the ship alone. However, two minutes later he returns. He’s holding a bowl of ice and some lemon slices.
‘They didn’t have any milk but try these. Suck on some lemon, it’ll help tone it down. The ice will feel nice on your lips.’
I take the plate and start working my way through them. ‘I think this might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.’
He furrows his brow. ‘Well, that’s just sad.’
I nod in agreement while I run a rapidly melting ice cube over my lips. Eventually the burning begins to subside. I’ll laugh about this later but it’s not quite the end of the excursion I was hoping for.
We arrive back on the ship at 6 p.m. and all I want to do is lie face down on my bed. I ache in places I didn’t know existed. Ellis grabs me a Coke from the lobby bar while I collapse onto a chair.
‘I’m tapping out,’ I tell him. ‘Thanks for a fun day but if you ask me to leave this ship tomorrow, I won’t be responsible for my actions.’
