The Forever Cruise

Chapter one

Alice Wagstaff gasped for breath. Cold and clammy, sweat trickled from her brow and prickled her spine. Breathe. Deep breaths. But her body wasn’t listening. Her fingers tingled and she felt as though her knees might give way. Less than twenty minutes to get on the connecting train to London. Or, she could cross the platform and go back the way she had come. Back to her bungalow in Norfolk where there was nothing and nobody to disturb her.

Get a grip Alice, you can do this. Kate, her old school friend was having a surprise 70th birthday party in a hotel at Canary Wharf. How would she explain her absence? Worse – what would her daughter Rachel say if she admitted defeat? I told you so – that’s what she would say. Her breath had slowed a little and although her heart was still racing, she felt a little steadier. Alice checked the printed travel route crumpled in her hand. Platform four. She still had fifteen minutes to get on the train to London.

‘I’ve missed you,’ Kate shouted above the music – a band of older musicians with a young female singer. ‘If you lived in London we could meet for the occasional lunch.’

Alice sipped her Pornstar Martini. A pretty pink with a slice of passion fruit floating on top. It was nectar. Kate threw back her shot of Prosecco, reminding Alice that one had been served with the creamy cocktail. This is perfect, Alice thought, as she started to feel a little fuzzy around the edges and she remembered Rachel’s first Barbie doll. Pretty in Pink. ‘Rachel’s trying to persuade me to move closer to her in Bethnal Green.’

‘Good for her. I don’t know why you moved out to the sticks in the first place.’

‘It was right at the time. Tom loved living there.’

Kate put her hand over Alice’s. ‘We all miss him.’

‘Maybe we should have made more of an effort to become part of the community– joined clubs or something. I didn’t really think about life after Tom.’

Kate snorted. ‘You could join the W.I.’

‘Every time I visit the post office the woman behind the counter suggests I join. That or a knitting group. There’s even a friendship group for no-mates like me.’ Alice took a slug of her cocktail.

‘In London you would have the theatre, art galleries, a Freedom pass to use on public transport.’

Alice knew that Kate was right. The quiet cul-de-sac of bungalows was perfect nine years ago but in the five years since Tom died it had felt like God’s waiting room.

‘I was just telling Alice that she should move back to London’ Kate said to her brother Gideon when he joined their table.

‘I don’t think the East End’s ready for the two of you. Kate’s bad enough on her own. Talking of which, I came to refill the birthday girl’s glass. Another Pornstar ladies?’

Kate waggled her eyebrows at Alice. ‘I’m game if you are.’

‘It seems a bit decadent. But this cocktail is heaven. I’m tempted to have another.’

‘Go for it, Alice. It’s a special occasion. I have plans to completely indulge myself. Cocktails at sundown, a different destination every day.’

‘Are you going on a cruise?’

‘He’s signed up for this forever cruise package. You know - retirement living but on a cruise ship.’

Gideon rubbed his hands together. ‘What a life. Everything that you need to live well. All of your meals provided. Staff tending to your every need and you get to see the world.’

‘Isn’t it expensive?’

‘If you do the sums, it works out cheaper than a care home, not that any of us are anywhere near that stage of life but a great way to live from - say … seventy, to the end of your days whenever that might be. If you have a decent home to sell its affordable. Okay, nothing to leave as an inheritance but better to spend your money on living the good life than throwing it away on ludicrous care home fees. Let me get you another Pornstar.’

‘That’s adventurous of him.’ Comparing herself to Gideon Alice couldn’t believe he was only five years younger than her. If only she had a little of his courage. ‘Your baby brother is still a looker.’ They watched Gideon’s slow progress across the room as one woman after another intercepted him with a kiss or a hug. ‘I remember you having status as Gideon Flynn’s sister.’

‘It was a nightmare. All of those lovelorn girls trying to befriend me hoping to get an introduction to my Rockstar brother.’

‘Did his fame ever extend beyond Bow?’

‘Absolutely. Bow, Bethnal Green, Hackney. Do you remember that gig in Canning Town?’

‘The one where we got talked into serving behind the bar?’

‘Yes. How did that happen? I remember there were lots of gangster types. I don’t think we got paid. I always felt responsible for my little brother. He got himself into some questionable situations. We were probably serving behind the bar that night to get him out of trouble.’

Alice laughed. ‘I know what you mean. He may be sixty-four but to me he will always be your annoying little brother.’

‘Believe me – he’s still annoying. A great dad though.’ Kate nodded to where Gideon was now sitting opposite a young woman their heads bent together. ‘That’s his daughter Mabel. She’s having problems at work. His girls rely too heavily on him. To be honest, I think he’s a bit of a soft touch where they are concerned. Mabel has him around her little finger.’

‘What about their mum?’

‘The marriage didn’t work out but they split amicably. His ex lives in Spain. They jointly own and manage a restaurant there. It doesn’t look as though he’s going to get our drinks.’

‘I’ll go.’

‘No. Let’s dance.’ Kate pulled Alice to her feet.

‘Brown Sugar, ‘Alice yelled as the band played the opening to their favourite Stones song. She kicked off her shoes and boogied with Kate to the dance floor. Dancers parted to welcome the birthday girl and her friend. Alice danced with abandon – throwing her arms wide, then above her head, twirling, jumping, laughing. They were ageless. Free-spirits. Children of the sixties born to rock. Alice’s children, Rachel and David, were old beyond their years, they didn’t know how to have fun.

Alice was taking a break from dancing to cool down when an announcement was made by the female singer.

‘Sorry to interrupt. I have an announcement to make.’

The birthday speeches had finished some time ago, Alice wondered if there was another surprise for Kate. Everyone was waiting to see what it could be.

‘Would Alice Wagstaff please make her way to the foyer where her daughter is waiting for her.’

There was a cheer from the crowd and then the singer introduced the next number. Alice felt like a teenager humiliated in front of her friends. It was only… oh dear, twelve-twenty. She had agreed to meet Rachel at twelve. Why couldn’t the silly girl just come in and say hello to Kate?

‘I’m sorry you have to leave so early,’ Kate said, kissing her goodbye.

Alice, always in bed by nine-thirty, didn’t consider it early but it looked as if the party was far from over. ‘I just have to find my bag.’

‘Do you want me to go and tell Rachel?’

‘No, it’s fine. I’ve probably left it at the table.’ Fifteen minutes later, someone found her bag in the ladies where she must have abandoned it after reapplying her lipstick. Rachel was not amused.

Chapter two

Marianne Moore had finally got the summons. She was going to captain a cruise ship. It had only taken six years of study, a Master’s degree in engineering, ten years’ experience obtaining a licence and a further five working as a staff captain. If only her father was alive to hear the news. He always believed in her. From the day he told her she could be anything that she wanted to be. ‘I want to sail around the world and be captain of the ship,’ six-year-old Marianne had said. That was all she had ever wanted to do.

Marianne checked her appearance in the mirror – smart but glamorous. She had a penchant for very high stiletto heels. In the years that she worked as a ship’s engineer, Marianne liked to indulge her femininity and the habit had stayed with her. She applied a vibrant lipstick and pouted at her reflection. Not just gorgeous – she was about to become a ship’s captain. She waved her arms and swayed her hips. ‘I’ve finally done it Dad. Captain Marianne Moore.’ She hoped that she would be allocated The Royal Ionian’s biggest, newest ship but that was unlikely. Still, no harm in aiming for the moon. Wasn’t that what she had always done?

Counting Crow’s American Girls blasted from the speakers of her BMW sports car, as Marianne took the coast road. It was too early in the year to have the roof down but Marianne was bursting with energy and needed the open top or she might just combust. Her long blond hair caught in the breeze and she swept it off her face. Captain Marianne Moore. Woo Hoo! She pulled in to the staff car park and changed trainers for stilettoes slinging her discarded shoes onto the back seat.

The glass fronted building, home to the executive team of The Royal Ionian was one that Marianne had visited on previous occasions – mostly for interviews. She checked her letter again just in case she had misread it. No, it definitely said that she was being offered the position of captain. A Libby Braithwaite, Chief Operating Officer, had signed the letter, a name unfamiliar to Marianne.

‘If you wait over there, someone will come down to take you upstairs,’ the receptionist said.

A captain, Marianne recognised, came out of a lift and was about to walk by when he caught sight of her, or rather her stilettoes and then his eyes slid up her uniform to her blond mane. ‘Marianne. Good to see you.’

She stood up so that she was looking down rather than up. This captain had once been her junior. ‘Gary,’ she nodded.

They were saved from an awkward exchange by a woman coming to claim her. ‘Miss Moore?’

‘We must catch up sometime,’ Gary said and Marianne followed her escort into the lift.

A woman in her forties and a heavy-set man with a florid face sat behind an enormous oak desk with a green inlay - Libby Braithwaite and Patrick Dunn. They were not forthcoming about their roles and were a bit evasive when Marianne asked outright.

‘We’ll come to that when we explain about the set up. It’s complicated. Tell us first about your experience.’

As Marianne talked through her resume, she felt Patrick’s scrutiny. They had her CV in front of them so she wasn’t telling them anything new. Maybe they were interested in how she presented herself. Marianne delivered her CV as if she was auditioning for Hollywood. When she had finished Patrick nodded enthusiastically. ‘I think that you will be perfect.’

That was all they wanted from her? It was a bit different to the other five captain interviews she had endured. The thought Why had come into her head but she had batted it back not wanting the thought goblins to rain on her parade.

Marianne beamed. ‘Thank you. Can you tell me which ship I will be captaining and when we are due to set sail?’

‘Halcyon Seas. She leaves from Florida on 7th March. It’s an exciting new venture for us all,’ Libby said.

‘I haven’t heard of Halcyon Seas. Is she a new addition to The Royal Ionian?’ Marianne couldn’t believe her good fortune, a brand-new ship. They must hold her in much higher regard than she realised.

Patrick grinned at Libby. ‘The first ship in a new fleet.’

Marianne was confused, she had not heard of a new Jamboree cruise line. ‘A new fleet?’

‘Sorry, I should have explained from the outset. This is a completely new venture. Ground breaking. It is, you understand, commercially sensitive. Patrick and I have got so used to talking in code making sure no information gets out that we didn’t even tell you – the captain of our first ship. This is so exciting.’ Libby paused to take a sip of water.

‘I thought you represented The Royal Ionian.’

‘We are part of the Jamboree group but Silver Seas is a new line, jointly owned by Jamboree and McIntyre Retirement Living USA. The first cruise ship to offer a retirement home for the over fifties. Halcyon Seas is a small ship, nothing like the size of The Royal Ionian cruise ships. Full capacity is 148 passengers but we are making all of the cabins single occupancy except for couples and so it is more likely to be sixty to seventy residents.’

A lump formed in Marianne’s throat. She was being fobbed off with a freakin’ retirement home. Of course, she was perfect – she was a woman! They were fucking well signing her up as a care home manager. She clenched her teeth.

‘You would have all the usual captain duties,’ Libby said, perhaps reading Marianne’s face, she had never been good at hiding her emotions. ‘It would be no different really.’

‘Why did you think I was perfect for the job?’

Libby and Patrick shuffled their papers and studied their notes.

‘You were recommended to us by the Chief Operating Officer of The Royal Ionian. He said that you were overdue being appointed to captain through no fault of your own. Apparently, the right opportunity had not come up until now.’ Libby had the grace to look apologetic.

So, she was being tossed from one cruise line to another. A castoff. ‘Obviously, this isn’t what I was expecting. I would have to think it over.’

‘Marianne. Captain Moore. This is an opportunity for you to prove yourself as captain. It may be the first retirement cruise ship but the way this industry is going it is likely to lead the way for many more. In a few years’ time most cruise ships will be retirement homes. Let’s face it our demographic has always been the over fifties. It is the perfect solution for later life.’

Patrick chipped in. ‘Retirement living complexes have not had the take up we anticipated, especially in the UK. This is a win-win for the cruise industry, for retirement living, and for older people. So many selling points – the families do not have to visit but will know their loved ones are being taken care of and have a good quality of life. It costs no more than living in a care home. And our existing retirement complexes can be sold off to a developer at a time when housing is in short supply.’

‘The cruise industry is quite frankly in decline. The chief accounting officer and CEO of Jamboree have great expectations of this venture – another reason why you should seriously consider taking up our offer.’

Marianne knew that she would accept the job, although she let them sweat a bit longer. Eventually, when she had negotiated 5k more on the annual salary, Marianne signed a contract. Maybe she should have waited until they had discussed the set up some more but it seemed that Libby and Patrick were reluctant to share any details until she had not only signed the contract but a confidentiality clause.

‘All of the communications are being carefully managed by Jamboree. You must not share any information on social media unless approved by head office.’

‘What kind of information?’ Marianne had never been restricted in the past and enjoyed sharing information about each cruise with friends, family, and her Instagram followers.

‘The model of operation, costings, and certainly no bad press – at all. This cruise has to be a success. Jamboree and McIntyre have a lot invested – not just finances. We will corner the market for over fifties as a lifestyle choice.’

‘You must have shared some information with the public and what about the crew?’

Patrick answered that one. ‘The marketing team have done a good job; we already have forty residents signed up. The crew were carefully selected and trained long in advance.’

‘The cruise industry is aware of this development. All eyes are on us. Communications have prepared press releases to go out in February. Now, we need to talk through your induction and preparation before Halcyon Seas sets sail,’ Libby said.

She drove home with the roof on. No music. Maybe it wasn’t all bad. Maybe this would be her opportunity to show Jamboree what she was capable of. Not just Jamboree, if this venture had stimulated as much interest in the industry as Libby claimed then she would make her name. There would be the opportunity for media interviews once the world knew retirement cruising was the way of the future. Marianne was determined to make this cruise a success. In a year’s time she would have her pick of jobs as captain. She just had to use this opportunity to showcase her unique combination of skills and attributes gained over the past two decades as a captain in training. It was a small ship with a high profile. There was very little chance of anything untoward happening; it was going to be a walk in the park and next year she would have the job she had always dreamed of.