The Cruise (eBook)

- Sapphic Romance
- Travel Romance
- Forced Proximity
- Workplace Romance
- Toaster Oven
- Cruise Ship

Chapter 1
Cara covered her head with a pillow and groaned. The noise from the neighbour’s renovation and the constant thumping on the construction site outside were almost unbearable. She reached for a shoe on the floor and slammed it against the wall several times, but she knew it wouldn’t make any difference. The machine gun staccato of the hammer drill felt like someone pounding on her head, or maybe the pounding was caused by her hangover, she wasn’t sure. The double-glazed windows that the landlord had installed, just before the winter kicked in, didn’t seem to help one bit, and the earplugs she had bought were uncomfortable.
“Damn it!” Cara shouted. She needed more sleep. The light was pouring in through the thin white curtains, the only ones she’d been able to afford. She sat up in bed and looked around the gloomy room that lacked basic furniture and any kind of personality. It was a sad reminder of her uneventful, miserable life, the first thing she saw each morning she woke up. The walls had been white once but had turned yellow over the years, and the previous tenants had left their marks in the form of make-up, paint, chewing gum and other stains she couldn’t—and didn’t want to—identify. There was the single bed she slept in; the left side of the frame held up by a pile of books. A plastic folding chair next to her bed functioned as her nightstand, and a manky old chest of drawers held some of her clothes. Behind the door, her suitcases were piled up as if she had just moved in. If only that were true. The reality was, she had been living here for three months. Three very long months. Sleeping through the day sometimes made her forget about her sad existence, but there was no way she would get any sleep now.
Picking up her robe from the floor, she knocked over the half-empty bottle of cheap red wine, spilling it all over the stack of application letters she had been slaving over for hours. “Fuck!” she cursed again, attempting to wipe them clean with an old T-shirt. Where were her slippers? The floor was sticky from previous spilling accidents, but instead of cleaning it up, she had ignored the stains, and now it was too disgusting to stand on with bare feet. She jumped back when her door swung open, revealing an annoyingly cheerful, fresh-faced girl, who looked like she’d jumped straight out of a fifties detergent commercial.
She smiled and made an apologetic hand gesture. “I’m so sorry. I thought this was the toilet.”
Cara rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and glanced at her vacantly, pointing at the red graffiti sprayed on her door, saying ‘Stay out! This is not the toilet!’
The girl looked from the door back to Cara, biting her lip. “I apologize, I have no idea how I missed that. I can be so dozy sometimes.”
“Yeah. It’s pretty big. Never mind, I was already up.” Cara suddenly realized she was half naked, and closed her robe, looking for something to tie it with.
“Here, take this,” the girl said, tugging at the scarf around her neck.
Cara shook her head, knowing she would have to give it back, and that meant having another conversation with the strange creature in the doorway. Who on earth still wears scarves these days? “It’s okay; I’ll find something.”
“Alright. Well, sorry for the intrusion.” She waved awkwardly and closed the door, leaving Cara with the pounding noise of the drill. I wonder where Dan picked her up. It had been a while since her best friend had brought a woman home, and this particular one was an unusual choice.
Cara searched her drawers, but the tie for her robe seemed to have disappeared into thin air, so she tied a long-sleeved T-shirt around it, and went in search of coffee. The mystery girl turned around when Cara entered the kitchen, desperately trying to ignore her.
“Here, let me make you a nice, strong cup of tea. You look like you could use one,” she said happily, stirring two cups of tea and reaching for another mug. “I’m Billie by the way. And you must be Cara, Dan’s friend?”
Her enthusiasm bordered on mania and Cara winced at the sound of the spoon, scraping against the bottom of the mug. She nodded. “Yep. That’s me. But I’ll pass on the tea. I need coffee in the morning.” Cara regarded the girl through sleepy eyes and suddenly felt self-conscious about the state she was in. Billie didn’t look like a Billie. She looked more like a Marjory or a Bettina. Billie’s cotton vintage floral skirt and her yellow twinset were crisp and clean and gave the impression that she loved to indulge in household chores. Her eyes were big and blue, and her long, blonde hair was immaculately straightened, like a golden helmet. Cara imagined she could take it off any time when in need of a party trick. Billie was petite but carried herself with confidence, and that made her look taller than she really was.
Cara looked down at her unshaven legs and pulled her robe over her knees in an attempt to cover them. She hadn’t had a shower in three days. Her black bob and fringe were tangled and greasy. Although she hadn’t looked in the mirror for a while, she guessed her skin would be a greyish kind of pale, the shade that junkies often carry. Billie didn’t seem to mind. She smiled and handed her a coffee.
“Milk and sugar are on the table. But you know that of course.”
“Thanks.” Cara accepted the coffee and sat down at the table, staring at the milk and sugar until she remembered that she drank her morning coffee black. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before. Have you known Dan for long?”
Billie shook her head and took a seat opposite Cara. “Not long. We only met last month. I’ve never been here before, though. It’s…”
Cara could see her searching for words to describe the apartment without sounding judgmental. “No need to be polite,” she interrupted her. “It’s a mess. We’ll get to it at some point, just not today.” There was an awkward silence, but Cara had no intention of filling it. If Billie felt the need to invade her personal space and make conversation, it was up to her.
Billie pointed at the second cup of tea in front of her. “Dan likes his tea in bed, but I bet you know that too.”
Cara lit a cigarette from Dan’s pack next to the flowerpot that functioned as an ashtray and shot Billie a curious look. “No offense, but you don’t seem like Dan’s type. Or maybe Dan doesn’t seem like your type; it’s too early in the day for me to think straight. I mean, he’s a mess. Like me, basically. But you…” She gave Billie another good glance-over. “You seem very well put together. You take care of yourself, and you’re well-spoken, not to mention the fact that you’re wide awake and dressed.”
“Well, I have a lot to do today,” Billie said matter-of-factly. “My sister’s pregnant, and I’ve promised to go shopping with her. We’re decorating the nursery this weekend. And as far as Dan’s concerned, I just happen to like him. He’s mysterious and artistic and funny, very different from other people I’ve dated. Other than that, I haven’t given it much thought.” She tilted her head in Cara’s direction. “And you? Any plans for today?”
Cara raised an eyebrow, blowing smoke out in Billie’s face. She deserved it for being perfect and asking all the wrong questions. “Me? Nothing. My plan was to sleep all day until those fuckers woke me up.” She pointed in the direction of the neighbours and stood up, stubbing out her cigarette. “But I’m still going to try. See you later, Billie.”