Victoria Cooke - The Holiday Cruise - The feel-good heart-warming romance you need to read this year

‘You have everything don’t you? All your documents? Your passport?’

I nodded. ‘Stop fretting.’

She smiled. ‘Remember some countries aren’t safe for you to just wander around in, Han. Stick to the tours and groups.’

‘I will.’

‘And Skype me – as much as you can.’

‘You could always visit me you know.’

‘And cramp your style?’ She grinned. ‘Now go, before you miss your flight. I love you.’

I sniffed, hugging her again. Pulling away was hard. The invisible glue holding us together wasn’t cheap PVA, it was No More Nails strength stuff and it was bonded to my heart. ‘Love you too.’

Once I’d boarded the flight and there was no turning back, I allowed myself to relax, helped by a glass of wine or two in the departure lounge. Excitement even set in. I’d never flown alone before so flying out to Miami was a big deal. The poor old man sitting next to me didn’t even get a chance to watch his film because I chatted the whole way there in a bid to stay calm. By the end of the flight he knew all about Daniel and Kelly, Cherry, my interview, and where I was going.

I shook my head, clearing it of the past, and refocused on the ship. I was there to move forward. My new home . I looked up in awe. I don’t know what I was expecting. I supposed I’d only experienced ferries before, but the Requiescence cruise ship, at almost two hundred thousand tonnes, was something else. When it was full, the on-board population size was comparative to Tinbury but at least I wouldn’t be the topic of conversation.

I couldn’t wait to board and explore. As I entered the cruise terminal I was greeted by two cheerful American ladies from HR who checked my details and documentation. I was then directed through security – it was just like being at the airport, except a tad more challenging due to the full-sized suitcase I was hauling after me.

Once on board, the new arrivals (like me) were shown to our cabins, but we barely had chance to glance around them before we were whisked off for a full day of safety drills and orientation. It felt like the first day of college as I walked anxiously into the ship’s theatre and sat down. The cruise director – dressed formally in his white officer’s suit – began to speak, and I tried my best to listen intently.

There were all kinds of rules and regulations to take in. We’d covered a lot of it at training academy, but regardless of that I sat up straight in my seat, trying to focus on what the cruise director had to say. There was so much information that my head was in a spin.

‘… Staff are not to form personal relationships with any of the guests. Any breach of this rule will result in instant dismissal.’ I stifled a snort. His suddenly sharp tone had got my attention, but that was definitely one rule I didn’t have to worry about. Romance was the furthest thing from my mind. I wanted to earn some money, see new places, and relax in the sun when I had some free time. I was still convinced Daniel would see the error of his ways. Absence makes the heart grow fonder after all.

A plump woman wearing a black tunic approached me. She looked to be aged around forty. ‘Are you Hannah, my new beautician?’ She sighed, looking me over.

‘Er, yes?’ I said taken aback by her stand-offish tone.

‘I’m Marion, the spa manager. Follow me.’ She strode off, and I scurried behind, trying to keep up as she rattled off a stream of information about the spa and her experience without looking back at me once. She too had just arrived on the ship but had been managing on-board spas for years.

‘Here we are.’ She stopped and pushed open the glass door in front of us. I walked in and looked around in disbelief. The on-board spa was huge enough to rival anything I’d seen on the mainland. There were four treatment rooms, a Jacuzzi, and a relaxation area, as well as two nail stations and pedicure chairs. The reception was opulent, with a marble-effect floor and tall counter, and behind it stood a tall pale woman with cropped black hair. She was called Agne, and was our receptionist from Lithuania. Vases of lilies here and there gave the whole place a welcoming feel. I was amazed by the facilities.

By the time I’d been fully inducted into the spa, my feet were aching and my mind was a blur. Marion invited me for a drink in the crew bar, but all I could think about was going to bed. I wandered through the corridors of my new home, heading for my cabin, and despite my exhaustion, felt a shiver of excitement . Life at sea, here I come!

There were two bunks, a small desk area with a telephone and kettle on top, and a TV on the wall. There was a private bathroom and the luxury of affordable Wi-Fi. I dotted a few pictures above my headboard to make it feel more homely; most were of me and Jen, plus one of the Yorkshire Dales and an old one of my parents that was creased and faded. Jen had taken it on holiday in Spain a few years before the accident. They were both tanned with broad, white shining smiles that reached their eyes easily. Dad’s arm was wrapped tightly around Mum’s waist, pulling her in close. Their love for one another was almost tangible.

I wiped a stray tear from the corner of my eye and scanned the room again, to clear my thoughts. My roommate hadn’t yet moved in, and it was nice to have the cabin to myself for the night whilst I grew accustomed to my new life. I’d taken the top bunk hoping my new roommate wouldn’t mind but fully prepared to switch if she did. I at least knew it would be a she since the cabins were single-sex, but that was all I knew.

The next morning I got up and got dressed in my uniform of black tunic and trousers. As I stared at my reflection in the full-length mirror I almost felt like my old self: ‘salon Hannah’. I took a deep breath and made my way to the spa. That particular day was a port clean, meaning we had to clean our areas thoroughly, ready for the arrival of guests the following day. It meant an easier introduction to the job and chance to meet the team.

‘Hiya, you must be Hannah?’ said a pretty dark-haired girl, who was also wearing the spa tunic, as I walked in. She appeared to be in her early twenties and it was comforting to hear she too spoke with a British accent.

‘Hi, yes I’m Hannah, the new girl.’ I tried to sound cheerful despite my nerves and the fact that I couldn’t stop wondering what the hell I was doing there.

‘Don’t worry, we’re all pretty new. I only arrived last week. I’m Kristy, by the way.’ She handed me a mop. ‘Here, grab this.’ She pulled out the sofa and started to wipe down the walls behind it, looking a little flustered. ‘It’s literally all hands on deck today,’ she said, spraying everything in sight with disinfectant. Once we got into the swing of cleaning, she relaxed a bit and started chatting.

‘So, what’s your story then?’ she asked bluntly.

‘Where to start,’ I replied, hoping a slight pause might make her reconsider asking. It didn’t; she just looked up with eyes that suggested we had all day. ‘Okay … I used to own a spa, but my husband left me for another woman and I was forced to rethink my future. This is a stepping stone to whatever lies ahead.’ I filled her in as briefly and as matter-of-factly as I could. I didn’t want to bore my new co-worker to death on the first day.