CHAPTER 2
I wanted adventure, fun, new experiences and an opportunity to start again. I wanted to start a new life and reinvent myself. Looking back on my relationship with Giles has helped me realise that I need to be stronger and that this new job is the first step towards a new Ginny who knows what she wants and who isn't afraid to to go for it. Who knows, perhaps I’ll even fall in love with the right man this time, with someone I can finally trust and rely on.
Okay, so who am I kidding, this isn’t a fairytale. In reality, there is so much to think about and to do before leaving my life behind. With less than a week to prepare for this adventure I have to pay bills, write letters, find a home for my cat, put my house up for rent and buy a whole new wardrobe of cruise clothes. I just remembered that the cat is not actually mine but the next-door neighbour’s. Felix has been such good company since Giles left. I must try and figure out a credible story about how I found him. The missing posters have been out for about three weeks now, begging people to come forward with any information. I won’t accept the award though, that would be really low.
With everything that I have to do, none of it really matters because I have the bestest friend in the whole wide world who I can rely on completely for anything. Not because she is ultra-organized or anything, on the contrary she is a complete shambles, but she has a car that works. Another thing on my list is to pick up my car from the garage and find somewhere to store it.
‘Come on Ginny,’ shouts Iona, from her car window.
‘Patience, Iona, is a great virtue,’ I quote to her while struggling with the new lock that I’ve just had fitted to the front door of my house.
‘Master Bates isn’t coming back you know, I don’t know why you bothered changing the locks,’ shouts Iona, resting her chin on her arm with her fingers drumming impatiently on the paintwork.
Impatient and insensitive, Iona and I have been inseparable since we first met at a place called "Toning Tables" about five years ago. We lay there opposite each other dressed in our florescent fitness gear, her in cerise and me in green. While we were sprawled out on the miracle tables that move your body for you we were drawn into conversation, purely because we were the only people in the room. I would never normally start a conversation with someone a whole size smaller than me but, our eyes met through Iona’s legs, as we moved around the tables being stretched and pulled into various positions. We chatted constantly with not even a bead of sweat in sight. Toning without any effort seemed the most painless way to help our bodies. Anything too energetic like aerobics was not for us we agreed, over two packets of crisps, two packets of dry roasted peanuts and four half pints of lager later that night. From that time on we have been bestest friends, but as much as I love her she is a heartless cow at times.
We have just finished wading through the entire contents of my wardrobe. What do you pack when you’re going on a cruise for six months? I know that I am officially going to work on the ship, but I've heard most cruise lines expect the crew to mingle with the passengers.
Each piece of clothing on my list was bought with a different cruise scene in mind. Iona and I had discussed and planned the whole assignment very seriously. The old Ginny didn’t particularly care about clothes, but the new Ginny has to make a good impression and what better time than right now to start making more of an effort. We pictured the various scenes and what outfit I would be wearing in each scene, how I would be standing, what I would be drinking, the whole thing. On deck with the long titian hair flowing behind me in the ocean breeze, my clothes would be a chiffony strappy thing with a scarf, probably all in green. Accessorized by some tall, lean creature (if he happened to be Italian, I wouldn't argue)who would be gently planting small kisses on the nape of my neck. As for the beach, fourteen pounds lighter of course and decked out in a two-piece bikini that I already owned. Bought in a shop called Bikinis for Breasts, and a silk sarong that could double as a skirt. My shopping list was endless:
Medication
Seasickness: patches, wristband and pills
Pills: pain, diarrhoea, pregnancy, sleeping/staying awake, colds and flu
Creams: sun, after-sun, itchy, burn, cold sore, piles (just in case)
Work Clothes
Ten pairs of natural tan coloured tights
Two pairs of comfortable navy blue court shoes
Cruise Clothes
General
Black evening gown, gown for Italian hunk scene, black knee length cocktail dress, one pair of black stilettos, one pair of black court shoes, one pair of training shoes in a yummy purple colour, one pair of walking shoes, knickers, bras and socks and oh yeh, my green pyjamas, a present from Nana on my twentieth birthday
Alaska
One pair of Levi’s, one pair of black trousers, long raincoat, umbrella, one heavy jumper, one heavy knit cardigan and two polo neck sweaters
Caribbean
Two sundresses, sunglasses, swimming costume, shorts, t-shirts, sarongs
Iona has taken the week off work just to be with me and has been behaving quite differently.
As we packed up the boxes in my house we tried to salvage as much as we could, but it wasn’t looking good. Iona sat patiently on the end of the bed with three large boxes in front of her on the floor. One she had labelled ‘BACK TO CHARITY’, another was ‘KEEP’ and the other was ‘CRUISE’. I knew I was going to have no choice in the matter. Iona is the queen of fashion and therefore my no-nonsense judge today on what goes and what stays. The ‘BACK TO CHARITY’ box is brimming when I pull the sage coloured woollen two-piece off the rail. I was almost reluctant to bring it out it was so hideous. I don’t even know why it was still in there. I bought it from a charity shop for a college Christmas party one year but never actually wore it. Iona starts to grin and then literally falls over on the bed, pulling a cushion over her head in an effort to smother her giggles. It really isn’t funny, but the entire contents of my wardrobe do leave a lot to be desired. Most of it is taken up with clothes for work and nearly every single item was green. I have been told endless times that ‘you redheads must wear green, it’s the best colour to set off the colour of your hair.’ Every Christmas without fail I would get ‘green’ clothes, scarves, bras and even knickers. I mean knickers! Who was the sicko that took the whole red hair and green thing way too seriously? Uncle Bruce, oh dear, that’s another story. Anyway, everyone thought I loved it. It’s a bit like collecting ornamental pigs as a child then hating them. But everyone will remember those pigs and that will be your birthday, Christmas, wedding, anniversary, golden wedding present until the day you die, when a big fat pig will be engraved on your tombstone forever. I give myself some credit, not all the greens are the same shade. I have coordinated my clothes starting with the deepest greens then olive green then the lime and lighter yellowy bile-coloured greens.
Iona, getting desperate for air, resurfaces and waves her hand in front of her face in an effort to cool down.
‘Thanks Iona,’ I say, pretending to be peeved.
So, here it was, a sad pile of three items to take on the cruise. The rest will have to be bought.
One slip in the fashion parade could cost me my love life and even that gold-crested invitation to the Captain’s VIP party, as Iona reminded me. Talking of cost, I am only a smidge concerned about all this shopping and the damage to my credit card.
In a few days time I will be walking up the gangway and starting a new career with a tax-free income of $100 per month, yes, per month, did I forget to mention that? Well, it may not seem like much but it will just about pay for my monthly payments and they did assure me at the interview that there was a good opportunity to make a lot more money on board. ‘Gratuities make up the bulk of your income,’ they had said.
The interview had obviously gone well from an I-got-the-job point of view, but on reflection I should have perhaps held out for the job I had originally applied for. I applied to work on the ships reception in customer services but once I arrived for the interview they told me that there were no positions available in the Pursers department at that time and that the only positions available were as a Bar Stewardess position. Experience wasn’t necessary and anyway, they said, it will give you a taste of what it is like to work on a cruise ship. Mr Hoskins was the ‘Fleet Personnel Officer’ and Penny was from the personnel department in the Southampton office. They explained as best they could what the job was all about. You will work long hours, but food, accommodation and uniform are all provided and you have NO DAY OFF.
‘Life onboard takes time to get used to but most people do and end up having a great time,’ Mr Hoskins had said, glancing impatiently at the clock on the wall. Fifteen minutes later he was on his feet and stuffing his paperwork into a large brown leather briefcase.
‘The opportunity to earn money is there, all you have to do is work hard,’ adds Penny, who is trying to maintain eye contact with me around Mr Hoskins’s large frame. He is taking his time draining the last contents of his coffee cup. Penny looks mildly uncomfortable as he lifts my hand up off my lap, shakes it and congratulates me on winning this wonderful opportunity, and if I have any questions please ask Penny. With that he is out the door. You may be wondering at this point why anyone would even consider working for six months without a day off, well the bonus is I will be getting away and I will forget all about the wanker. I will be travelling to far-off lands and have free accommodation and food, which I have heard is wonderful on these cruises. They always give you a worst-case scenario in these interviews to avoid any disappointment, great tactic. What questions did I ask? Nothing really.
I was just happy to be moving on with my life. Working in a bar can’t be all that bad and anyway I couldn’t think of anything except when will I be going and to which exciting part of the world should I prepare myself for. Penny had flicked though her files and pulled out a brochure of the Galaxy Princess, one of a fleet of eight: 75,000 tons, registered in Liberia, whatever that meant, and a place was available the following week. I told Penny that I would take it but would like to be considered in the future for the job in the Pursers department that I had originally applied for. She assured me that she would bare that in mind and put in on my new record.
The house is locked and Iona’s car is jammed with all my personal items that I couldn’t leave behind for some stranger to use.
‘You know what Iona?’ I say, squeezing myself in the passenger seat, ‘I’m going to miss my house you know,’ I say, with a sniff.
‘Oh don’t start blubbering Ginny, you’re pissing off around the world on a cruise ship for God’s sake, you won’t give a second thought to this place or any of us after tomorrow,’ she says, pulling off the kerb with a bump and taking off at high speed towards her house.
‘Iona, how could you even say such a thing? You know how much my house means to me and you know how much I’ll miss you, don’t you?’
Iona stared straight ahead and didn’t reply. Too tired to argue I mumble that it’s not a world cruise but a cruise to Alaska. We sat in silence both exhausted and gagging for that first glass of Chardonnay. We offloaded the boxes into the garage in silence then I followed her into the house.
I know Iona and this is just her way of dealing with me leaving. She’s a big softy really. She wasn’t your normal friend, she was the best. She was the girl who always gets to walk in the middle of her two less attractive girlfriends like in Charlie’s Angels. All the little unimportant things I would whine about would always get a serious answer. All my problems including serious dilemmas, lesser important things and just things that I had invented out of boredom were all given the same attention. She believed that if it was important to me at the time then it was worth talking about. That is why I know that she is upset right now and behaving so weirdly. At least I hope that’s what it is, and that she hasn’t caught me lusting after James her beautiful boyfriend again?
Iona is sunk so far down in the sofa she is disappearing into the cushions, I am desperately going to miss her. Not a day goes by that we don’t see each other or talk on the phone, sometimes even three times a day. She looks so small on that sofa, I must remember to tell her that later so she can make it her preferred position at dinner parties after eating too much. Here she is in this wonderful relationship, having a fantastic sex life including tricks with Mars bars and things. She is the best salesperson where she works and she lives in this fantastic house. She and James have been together for almost two years. He is the closest to temptation I would ever get to throwing our friendship away and that is all it would take, because she is madly in love with him although she would never let him know it.
James is fairly tall with thick hair black hair. He looks at his best in jeans and a t-shirt covered in oil from whatever car he is working on at the time. That’s what he does. He owns a couple of garages and restores classic cars and walks around looking drop-dead sexy without even trying. As if that wasn’t enough he is a complete charmer.
As we lounge around in Iona’s sitting room sharing a well-earned bottle of Chardonnay and watching Cold Feet, I suddenly want to hug her. It won’t be long before I leave for the other side of the world and I just want to give her a big hug and tell her what a great person she is. I get up slowly to move over to her. She is either engrossed or drunk, probably the latter, but she suddenly catches me in her peripheral vision.
‘What are you doing?’ she asks. Her voice could cut diamonds.
‘Awwww Iona,’ I whine, as my bottom lip wobbles.
‘Don’t even think about it,’ she says, pulling herself up slightly. ‘You know I don’t do the emotional huggy thing, you’re my best friend but back off.’ My glistening of tears disappeared abruptly, sucked right back where they had come from.
‘Bloody hell Iona, you’re so cold,’ I say, throwing myself back into the cushions. We continue to watch the television in complete silence until Iona informs me the wine is finished. This doesn't mean the wine is actually finished, in code it means, let’s open another bottle. Another great thing about Iona’s house is that James doesn’t smoke and the agreement is we won’t smoke in the living room. This is a pretty good set up for us. It means, a) we don't smoke as much and b) we get to burn up a few extra calories having to get up to go and smoke in the kitchen.
‘Fancy a ciggy Iona?’ It’s been at least an hour and if anything will move her besides the adverts, a quick ciggy will do it. We wait ten seconds for the wine to breathe while Iona automatically pulls out the bathroom scales. Why she has them in the kitchen of all places I don’t know. We, like most of the British population, have been dieting without any real effort for years.
‘I am going to miss you Iona,’ I tell her while holding on to the side of the dishwasher, tentatively placing one foot at a time on the scales.
‘What weight are you?’ she asks, peering over my shoulder.
‘Ionaaaaaa, will you please listen, I’m going to miss you really, you will write won’t …, shit Iona, I’ve put on three pounds, how can that be possible after all the running round we’ve been doing over the last week?’
‘Of course I will silly,’ she replies ignoring the weight crisis and bending down to adjust the dial so it reads three pounds lighter.
‘You know I’ll miss you too Ginny,’ she says standing up again and pouring out the wine. ‘So have you decided what to wear when you get to the hotel?’
So this is how she’s going to be. The only comforting thing is that I know she is as upset as I am.
Iona and some friends from work had set about arranging a last minute farewell party for me. Bad timing as I was due to fly out the next morning but I was still touched, very touched, as face after face started to appear. Iona had dug around in my old address book and had rung every number, including my dentist, inviting them all to my farewell party. I really was going to miss them all. The party went well.
Ray came out to the garden and handed me a glass of champagne as Iona and James made a toast ‘to Ginny, her new life and new experiences, bon voyage, don’t forget us!’ They all cheered in unison and lifted their glasses to the stars, ‘to Ginny, bon voyage’. Did I just witness a break of emoion in Iona's otherwise fixed expression?
Ray was one of our ‘men at work’.
He is a great guy not to mention quite a catch. If I hadn’t have been so involved with Giles I am sure that I would have been interested in Ray.
‘Well this is it Ginny,’ he said, looking down and brushing his shoe across the finely trimmed grass.
‘I know Ray, isn’t it funny, I would never had thought about doing this if everything hadn’t...’
‘I know Ginny,’ he interrupts and tilts my face up with his finger. Ray is standing very close. ‘I just want to tell you Ginny that you are very special and I will miss you, a lot,’ he added, before suddenly taking me in his arms and literally crushing me to him.
He bent down and whispered that I was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and that if I ever needed him he would always be there for me. Dreamy eh? Well, perhaps it wasn’t quite that dreamy but for a second it was and the champagne definitely helped.
The whole evening went by just like that, like a dream. The fact was, that Ray was actually quite a catch. All the women, and a couple of the men, were all a little bit in love with Ray. He was tall and exceptionally broad like a New Zealand All Black. All his suits were tailor-made, giving an extra touch of class to his outstanding body. Everyone knew that Ray was probably more upset that he was actually letting on. He had apparently been interested in me over the last year and referred to Giles as being as much use as a doctor at a funeral. Flattering as it was, I have been on a steady road to recovery and George Clooney himself could not have stood a chance since Giles and I split. Ray has sat with me on every training seminar and most of our lunch hours for the last year or so and had never given any real indication about his feelings until the night of the party.
The champagne was drunk and the party ended and we all said our goodbyes with the odd drunken tear shed.
‘You’ll have such a wonderful time,’ they say. ‘We’re so jealous.’
Hugs exchanged they all staggered off down the driveway.
‘By the way,’ said Jenny, from Accounts, tottering back up the driveway. ‘I always thought Giles had a really massive head, not in a vain way you understand, but it really was humongous. You really are much better off without him, I just wanted you to know,’ she adds, rubbing her hand up and down my arm with a frown pressed on her forehead. Jenny tripped her way over to the others as we all waved and said goodbye for the last time. Iona came over just as Jenny left and joined me in the driveway. It’s a full moon and a gentle breeze makes the leaves rustle together. All you can hear is the din from the departing guests as they all try to pile into the one remaining car.
‘Never mind Ginny,’ says Iona kindly, ‘you know what she’s like and anyway it’s not like you didn’t know already is it?’ she said, taking a swig out of the last bottle of champagne before offering it to me.
‘Know what?’ I ask, turning round to face her. ‘What are you talking about?‘’
‘Oh nothing,’ replies Iona, and starts to move towards the house.
‘Oh no you don’t, Iona, what are you talking about?’ I am convinced that they know something I don’t. What's all this about Giles? What did Jenny know about his head? We were all great friends but I rarely spoke about my sex life at work, if I did it was only ever with Iona. ‘Don’t tell me that Giles and Jenny…’
‘Oh Ginny,’ says Iona, grinning widely. ‘She wasn’t talking about that head you idiot, get your brain out of the gutter. She was referring to the head on his shoulders.’
Thankfully Iona knows me well enough to know that where Giles is concerned I am still a tad paranoid, and that the simplest remark about him can be taken and twisted any way I choose for it to go.
‘Oh,’ I say, trying to remember what it looked like. And then I do, and it helps makes my going away and the whole split less painful than it has been in a while.
‘You’re right Ginny, it was bloody enormous, why didn't you tell me before?’ For a second I’m disappointed that Jenny wasn’t referring to Giles’s penis. Although I had noticed in the beginning that his head was slightly out of proportion to the rest of his body, I didn’t want anyone else to notice! It made me look a bit desperate to be going out with ‘Mr Potato head.’
‘Well, I thought you’d notice after waking up to it on the pillow for three years,’ laughs Iona, as she takes my arm as we fall over ourselves giggling back to the house.
Waking up with an eight out of ten hangover, I get started on jamming the last minutes things that always seem to take up much more space than you thought they would, into my new luggage. Half an hour later we set off to the airport that is only an hour’s drive away. Iona informs me that her hangover is an 8.5 out of ten as we load up the car. James is driving and Iona is sitting quietly next to him.
I was just wondering if James was driving me there to make sure that I actually got on the plane or was he just being his usual kind self? It was difficult to say as I had dominated most of Iona’s time since splitting up with Giles and even more of her time since getting this job, I’m sure he can’t wait for their lives to get back to normal. The drive down was in silence, Iona nursing her hangover and James listening the traffic report on the radio.
I was too numb to speak. Today came so suddenly. If I wasn’t so overjoyed about getting the job I could have told them that it was too soon to organize everything. Luckily Iona is organizing renting my house out, my car is in their garage and my passport and new Visa came back in record time with thanks to Penny from the Southampton office. Even the airport sign loomed sooner than it would have if I had been driving someone there.
I do love airports though. I remember a friend of mine from college taking her Aunt back to the airport once and she asked me to tag along for company. Just as they were saying their goodbyes I burst into tears. I couldn’t control myself. I wept and wept. Her Aunt was very touched considering we had only just met in the car.
My feelings were or all over the place, both apprehension and excitement where fighting for first position as we reach check-in. Iona is avoiding any eye contact as we move forward slowly as the line goes down. James is looking uncomfortable as we all stand in silence. Iona has even got her arms folded across her chest, sunglasses on, keeping any contact from the outside world well away from her. I reach check-in and hand my bags over.
‘Iona,’ I say, ‘you may as well go, and you’ve both already done too much for me.’
I am suddenly so overwhelmed with emotion I can hardly breathe. I look at Iona and her lovely, safe and familiar face and want to go home.
‘Okay, bye then,’ she said, throwing her cream-coloured pashmina over her shoulder and striding off. Bloody hell Iona. I didn’t even get a chance to knot my eyebrows together. James smiles and gives me a kiss on the cheek, wishes me good luck then shrugs as if to say ‘you know how she is’, and strides off to catch up with her. Yes I know how she can be. Iona may be supportive in everything I do, but I am her best friend and I know she needs me in her life the same way that I need her. We come together as a package and although she is happy for me I know she is pissed off with me for leaving her behind. I am just going to have to write to her and send a postcard from every port to remind her she is still my bestest friend.
