Christine paced the cabin. Her fingers pressed to her temples, which meant she occasionally jarred her elbow on the wall but she didn’t care. If she took her fingers from her head she felt as if her brain would explode out of it, and if she stopped pacing, the room would start to spin again and then she felt sick.
She paused briefly in front of her reflection in the glass of the sliding door then turned and paced again. Had she really said all those things, made such a scene? She groaned. Where was Frank? He’d brought her back to their room, insisting she stay put, and said he’d bring back a big bottle of water but he’d been gone a long time. She knew he was ashamed of her. Perhaps he wouldn’t come back. She groaned again. Then her thoughts went to her father, the horrified look on his face, his arm around Josie as he’d guided her away.
Christine had got some satisfaction from wiping the smug look off Josie’s face when she flung the champagne at her but it had been short-lived. She would still get his money but she was sure her father was lost to her now.
“Arrgh!” Her cry startled her. It sounded loud in the empty room. From behind her came the sound of the card in the door. She turned as Frank came in with two big bottles of water tucked under his arm.
He glanced at her then moved on past to the desk. He put one bottle in the fridge, opened the other and poured two glasses.
He didn’t offer her one, simply waved a hand at it. “You should drink lots of water.” Then he slid open the balcony door. Christine felt the tremor inside her ears as the outside air fought against the air conditioning. She crossed to the desk as Frank stepped out into the inky night. She swallowed the glass full of water, poured another and drank half. She looked longingly at the bed. She’d love to crawl in and slip into the oblivion of sleep but she knew if she lay flat the room would spin worse than it did when she stood still. She began to pace again. Each time she reached the open balcony door she glimpsed the still figure of her husband sitting in a chair. He was positioned side-on to her with his face turned away so she didn’t know if his eyes were shut or if he was staring out into the blackness. Either way he certainly wasn’t talking. A part of her wished he would, wanted him to berate her for her poor behaviour, but that wasn’t Frank’s nature.
She did another circuit of the room. After the others had all left the table, loyal, kind Frank had walked her silently back to their cabin. The only thing he’d said since her outburst had been to do with drinking water. She moved to the open door. His silence had cut through her more than any words could.
“Frank?”
She thought perhaps he hadn’t heard her then he shifted slightly in the chair.
“I don’t want to talk, Christine.”
The light from the cabin cast a glow across the profile of his face. Her heart ached for him. Only a few hours ago they’d made love. They’d been a proper couple again. She’d accepted he wanted this new job, she hadn’t mentioned renovations, deciding to let that slide till they got home. They had been so happy in each other’s arms, and then had come the dinner from hell. They had all looked so pleased with themselves, those older couples, and her father was all over Josie even after Christine had warned him off. She’d had too many drinks and the poison inside her had bubbled up and overflowed. Now probably no one would talk to her for the rest of the cruise. She chomped hard on her lip so she wouldn’t cry. She hated Frank’s silence. One of the reasons for this holiday had been to rekindle her marriage. She couldn’t lose Frank. A shock of realisation hit her like a brick – nothing was worth that.
She refilled her glass and moved out onto the balcony where she lowered herself carefully onto the other chair. Her head remained steady and even though her stomach was churning she felt she could sit without feeling like she would lose her balance.
“Thanks for the water,” she said.
Frank continued to stare out into the night.
She eased herself lower until her head rested against the back of the chair. “I thought perhaps you might find somewhere else to sleep.”
This time his head turned a little sideways so he was looking at her. “I thought about it.”
She felt a stab of dread at the disdain in his stare.
“I’m sorry, Frank.”
“What for?”
She flung up her hands. The movement made her head pound. “Drinking too much, talking too much, everything.” She finished limply, putting a hand to her head.
Frank shoved his chair around to face her and lurched forward. The force of the movement startled her. Anger had replaced the disdain on his face.
“Are you, Christine? Are you really?”
“Of course.”
“I don’t understand why. I get you’ve got a beef with your father every time he so much as looks like he might find a woman whose company he enjoys.”
“That’s not true. I want him to be happy but he always picks the wrong ones.” Christine wasn’t sure who would be right but certainly not any of the women her father had entertained over the years.
Frank shook his head. “Bernie and Josie aside, what did the others at our table do that hurt you so much you’d want to humiliate them?”
“They were all so superior. Celia acts detached but she’s just like Josie, after a man, and she’s got her claws into poor old Jim. He’s in a fancy suite so he must have money. And Ketty, she acts so high and mighty as if she’s in charge of the bloody cruise. Asking us about our day, telling us what we should do, how we should act. They were all being judgemental in one way or another and none of them are squeaky clean.”
Frank’s mouth fell open. “Listen to yourself, Christine. You’re not this person. I want my wife back.”
He got up and went inside. She heard the bathroom door close.
Christine rested her head back again and closed her eyes. She watched the colours swirl behind her eyelids. It made her feel sick. She opened them and drank more water.
She pictured her father and the way he’d guided Josie away. It wounded her so much to see him choose another woman over his relationship with her. She should be used to it by now but it hurt every time. Even worse was Frank’s scorn. He was usually so non-judgemental. She thought about the things she’d said tonight to the others. Had she overstepped the mark? There had been nothing that wasn’t true, she was sure but…when she thought about it, maybe the way she’d said it had been hurtful. She’d only meant to stop them from interfering.
There was movement in the cabin behind her. A couple of lights went out.
“I’m going to bed.”
She twisted slightly. Frank was framed in the doorway, a dark silhouette against the remaining light from the room. He was wearing boxers. He rarely wore anything to bed. How different tonight was from this afternoon. Was this really all her doing?
“Don’t leave me out here alone.” She knew lying horizontal was still not an option. “Please, Frank.”
He let out a sigh.
“My head hurts.” She closed her eyes and put a hand to her forehead.
“Drink some more water.”
She heard the chair creak beside her. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes again.
“I am sorry, Frank. I spoiled the evening. This afternoon was so good between us. I felt like we’d got our mojo back.”
She risked a glimpse in his direction. His face was in shadow and he was looking out to sea.
“I only wanted to save Dad from another bad decision,” she continued. “He’s the only dad I’ve got.”
“He’s an adult, not a child.”
“I know. I’ll go to his room first thing and apologise. Then I’ll find out where Josie’s room is and…beg her forgiveness.” She wouldn’t quite go that far but she could at least show remorse for the scene she’d caused.
Frank leaned in. “We could well be dining alone tomorrow night.”
“We can always go to the buffet.”
“Or I can leave you in the room for the rest of the cruise.”
Christine assumed he was joking but it was hard to tell. She took a large swallow of water, gritted her teeth and hoped her face looked suitably contrite.
“I’ll find the others and apologise to them too.”
“They’re nice people, Chrissie.” He reached across and took her hand, gave it a gentle shake. “You’re a much better person than the one who was in the dining room tonight.”
Tears brimmed in her eyes. “I only want everything to—”
“Go your way?” He leaned across and took her other hand. “It can’t. The world’s not like that. Your dad has survived all these years. You have no idea what he does when he’s on his own. Maybe wild orgies every night.”
“Frank!” It made her cringe to think about it.
“Point is, it’s up to him what he does with his time…and his money. We can stand on our own four feet.”
She gave him a wobbly smile. There was no point in mentioning she would still get her father’s money. She didn’t want to mess up this bridge-building she’d worked so hard on.
“Things will be better in the morning.” Frank smiled back, with that gorgeous look that still had the ability to make her toes curl. “How are you feeling?”
“Okay.” At least the spinning wasn’t as bad now.
“I didn’t think we’d lost it.”
Christine frowned. “Lost what?”
She sighed. “We’ve been so busy with work and the kids. We should make more time for each other.”
“That’s why we’re here but you’ve been occupied chasing after your dad.”
“I know.”
He stood, helped her to her feet and pulled her into a hug. “Let’s make the most of the few days we’ve still got.” He wiggled his hips against her.
“Oh,” she groaned. “I couldn’t lie down yet.”
He trailed his lips down her neck. “Who said we had to lie down?”