Twenty minutes and much hand-wringing later, I watch both Mia and Dieter eagerly get strapped into the harness and, without a gun to their heads, each of them jumping freely from the edge of the platform. No hesitation, no ‘yikes’ face, just enthusiasm. I think I even hear Mia say ‘whee!’ as she glides across. I wonder for a moment if she still has that muffin in her pocket. I carefully count how long it takes them to reach the other side. Ten seconds. That’s not too bad. Not as great as no seconds but better than more than ten, I suppose.
When it’s my turn, I can feel my legs turn to jelly. The zipline guy, Harvey, is very friendly, asking me if it’s my first time. He reassures me that it’s not as bad as it looks, even though it looks horrendous. He would say that, though. He’s hardly going to be screaming, ‘RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!’, not if he wants to keep his job.
I just smile weakly at Harvey, knowing that the moment I start speaking, my lip will wobble and I’ll begin to cry. No one needs to see that. I need to man up. If Dieter and Mia, the two most sensible people on this cruise, can do this without breaking a sweat, so can I. I refuse to be the big baby bitch at the dinner table tonight while they throw me pitying looks from their smug, we’re not scared of anything faces. Deep breath. I can either give myself last rites or dramatically flee down the waterslide. I choose to stay.
Standing at the edge of the platform, my heart is pounding, and my hands are sweaty. I rub them on my shorts, hoping perspiration won’t be the catalyst to my embarrassing demise. Fuck, I’m terrified. I feel sick. I feel like I might lose control of my bladder and piss my pants over the passengers below. My last moments on earth, a whirlwind of flailing legs, urination and shrieking, all performed with a harness wedged up my arse. Ten seconds, I remind myself. Ten seconds and it’ll be over.
Why the fuck did I agree to this? I hate heights. Did that roller-coaster at Thorpe Park teach me nothing? How does any of this bring me closer to meeting someone other than my maker?
‘Ready?’ Harvey asks. I’m so scared I want to punch him.
I nod, grip the handlebar and close my eyes. ‘Ready.’
With a tiniest push from Harvey, my feet are no longer resting on the platform and my stomach is no longer resting comfortably in my abdomen. My underwear is also no longer situated outside of my arse crack. A wedgie, 150ft above the sea. I’m never listening to Mia again.
Chapter 42
‘I’m having sushi for lunch, you want to join?’ Ellis asks. ‘It’s one of the better restaurants here.’
I sulk. ‘Aw, I would but I’ve already booked the sushi place for tonight. Twice in one day might be overkill.’
‘So cancel it,’ he suggests. ‘Unless you’d rather be alone to scope out the man situation? Eyes meeting over the miso. A little futomaki flirtation.’
I laugh. ‘I hadn’t planned on it, no. I’m pretty sure a mouth full of rice and seaweed isn’t as sexy as it sounds.’
‘I don’t know,’ he replies. ‘Throw in some noisy udon slurping and you’ll be surprised how many men go weak at the knees.’
‘Fine, I’ll have lunch with you instead,’ I reply. ‘I mean, if you think your knees can handle it.’ Ellis catches my eye and laughs. ‘Let’s find out, shall we?’
I have high hopes for Oishii Explorer. Out of all the restaurants on offer, this was the one I’ve been looking forward to the most. I’ve visited almost every sushi place in London and if it wasn’t so expensive, I’d happily feast on miso and maki for the rest of my life. Sushi is my love language.
A relaxed ambience is not a thing at Oishii. There is no mood lighting, no warm tones, no romantic areas to get cosy. It’s bright and it’s modern, with stark wooden tables, each with its own tablet to choose dishes and place orders.
Miso soup, gyoza, prawn tempura, beef yakisoba, chicken teriyaki and two orders of the salmon rolls.
‘You want some sake?’ he asks.
‘Nah, I’m not a fan,’ I reply. ‘It’s kind of bland.’
‘First the limoncello, now sake.’ He sighs. ‘I’m not sure we can be friends any more.’
‘I should warn you now that I tend to spill,’ I admit. ‘I actually fashioned a bib from a napkin at the seafood restaurant.’
His eyes widen. ‘That was you?’
‘What do you mean? Oh God, did word get around? Was that a cruise faux pas? I just didn’t want to completely ruin my dress!’
He laughs. ‘So you were Lola’s knight in shining armour? Oli had mentioned that a woman with a serviette tucked into her dress had white knighted Lola. Her arsehole boss was reprimanded and moved to the burger place.’
I feel my cheeks redden. ‘Well, no one should have to put up with that kind of shit at work.’
‘You did a good thing. My faith in humanity is restored. Friend privileges reinstated.’
I’m still blushing. I’m glad it worked out for Lola.
‘If you need to napkin up, go for it. No judgement here.’
I shake my head. ‘No, I will master the art of not eating like a toddler if it kills me.’
