As soon as the ship had sailed… Mara danced a little (sailor’s) jig of joy on the balcony overlooking the harbour. They were gone, the four of them. She had the rented cottage and the weekend to herself. She gave a final exaggerated wave, to ensure her husband and sons had their last-for-now glimpse of her thinking of them, wishing them well. And she did, she did!
The male bonding fishing trip had been her idea. Two weeks on holiday in the sweet Cornish fishing village had stretched her tolerance, despite long daily walks on the cliff tops.
Her husband volunteered to accompany her and on occasion she allowed him.
The boys never volunteered, preferring to lie on the numerous sofas staring into their devices – exactly as they did at home, so why they had spent a small fortune they could ill afford on the coastal view cottage, Mara had no idea.
Which was the reason – she had convinced herself – for the fishing expedition. The boys had to be bribed to go, but it would be good for them, they’d love it, it would change their lives … She giggled, there on the balcony. She was getting carried away with her own bullshit.
‘We all need a break,’ her husband had said, justifying the rental expense.
Mara agreed, but the break so far had meant for her merely learning the vagaries of an ancient cooker, not having the right ingredients to hand and exploring the tiny local Sainsbury’s in an endeavour to work out what to have for dinner. Same as at home, then.
But now, now! A whole two days. Mara knew exactly what she was going to do with them. She squinted along the cove, eyes narrowed against the early sunlight. Her heart gave a happy flip. Yes, he was there. His dog, Billy, chased seagulls on the sand, barking. But even from this distance Mara could see the man peering up at the house. Waiting …
She grinned. Maybe now they’d have long enough for her to learn his name, and not just the dog’s.
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My response: By the way, are you currently receiving texts that I send on your phone. Not happening all that often but i did send one yesterday.
AS SOON AS THE SHIP HAD SAILED
As soon as the ship had sailed, he knew he should have said something. Now Beatrice would be out of his life forever, without ever knowing how he felt about her.
Alphonse mercilessly chided himself.
“You big oaf,” he growled. “Cat got your tongue. Why didn’t you tell her?”
Truth was Alphonse had never been particularly good with girls. Too shy, his mum had said. Always blushing and stammering every time he tried to talk to them.
And now, here was the love of his life sailing out of Sydney Harbour to England – and to who knows what future with her family – and he hadn’t even had the courage to speak up, even to wish her bon voyage.
No, Alphonse had been too busy turning a bright shade of beetroot and making funny gurgling noises as her family stood on the dock at Circular Quay prior to walking up the gangplank.
Beatrice just laughed gaily and gave his hand a squeeze as he choked back words. Surely, she must have noticed what a fool he was.
This just wouldn’t do, Alphonse decided. The ship was already on its way towards the heads. If he didn’t act quickly, he would never see his darling Beatrice again.
Desperation overcame his embarrassment as he ran towards a small pilot vessel with the owner still on board.
“How much to take me out to the Orion?” he inquired of the man.
“What do you mean? We can’t do that. It’s against the law. Besides we probably won’t catch her now,” the owner responded.
“Mate, the love of my life is on that ship – and I’ve been stupid enough about not telling her how I feel. You have got to get me out to that boat!!”
His sincere and emphatic tone struck a chord with the pilot.
“Ok, if you say so,” he said. “Here, put this life jacket on and hold on tight.”
With that, the pilot gunned his craft and set off at a rate of knots in pursuit of the Orion.
For a while, Alphonse thought they might be too late – as the ship seemed almost to have reached the open ocean.
But then the pilot somehow found extra speed for his craft and they almost flew over the harbour waters, bow barely touching the waves.
As they drew closer, he reached for his two-way radio.
“Orion, Orion, this is pilot boat Excelsior. Please slow down. I have a love-sick passenger on board desperate to say goodbye or whatever to his girlfriend.”
Alphonse looked at him in amazement as he heard raucous laughter from the ship’s radio operator.
“You are kidding me. Who is this idiot? Does he think we can just pull up like a bus at Wynyard station?”
“His name is Alphonse – and if you don’t pull up he will probably try to catch you by swimming. He appears that desperate.”
More spirited mirth and, as both men watched, the ship slowed and eventually came to a complete stop.
A ladder was dropped from the port side as the pilot boat came alongside and, grabbing the rungs, Alphonse hauled himself to the deck before turning to wave his thanks to the pilot.
The entire ship’s passenger contingent and crew was there to greet him.
Christ, he thought, I’ve really done it now.
But then he spotted Beatrice standing front and centre of the crowd with a huge smile on her face – arms outstretched to embrace him.
Two days. Is that enough time to start an affair? Her motives are obviously a little sus (LOL)
Absolutely! On all counts LOL
A romantic tale, but my logical mind goes – what then? Does she get off? And how? Does he stay on? And pay his fare? LOL
Really? Details! Details!