Page 24 of Hook, Line and Single

‘Sorry?’

‘You know, the baddie from that old Bond film. He had metal teeth and could bite through almost anything. Ah, there’s the desk we need.’

We make our way over to a large counter withMarco Poloemblazoned across its front. Behind the counter is an enthusiastic-looking man who’s definitely gone a bit mad with the spray tan.

‘Sticking with the film connections, we had Jaws and now a real live Oompa-Loompa,’ I murmur to Sam. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so orange.’

‘Welcome, welcome,’ he cries as we approach the desk. ‘Are you part of our happy Marco Polo gang?’

‘That’s right,’ Sam tells him. ‘I’m Sam Thorncroft and this is my friend, Ruby Johnson.’

‘Delighted to meet you both. My name’s Barry and I’ll be your group coordinator for the time we’re together on board. We’ve got a really fun group this time. You’re going to have a blast, and who knows what might happen, eh? Let me just find your packs.’

‘Umm, Sam?’ I ask nervously as he rifles through a box of envelopes. ‘What exactly have you signed us up for?’

She doesn’t get a chance to reply as Barry slaps two envelopes down on the counter with a flourish.

‘Here you go,’ he says, sounding like he’s going to explode with delight as he opens Sam’s envelope and slides out the contents. ‘So, the details of everyone in the group are in this booklet. There are pictures and traffic lights so you can do a bit of research before you meet everyone. This is your traffic light badge, which you should wear at all our events. Oh, you’re a green, how brilliant. If you need to change colour at any point, just come and see me and I’ll sort you a new badge, OK? Now, our first event is this evening just after we depart. The other passengers will be going to the sail away party, which happens on the pool deck every time we leave a port, but we’ve taken over the Nautilus lounge for our Singles Mingle event, where you can meet all the other singles for the first time and start getting to know each other.’

I stare dumbfounded at Sam as the penny drops. She’s signed us up to a singles cruise. I am going to kill her.

9

‘I can explain,’ Sam says earnestly as we join our final queue to board the ship.

‘Save it. I’m so angry with you right now that I don’t trust myself not to say something we’ll both regret. A singles cruise? What the actual fuck, Sam?’

‘Look. I meant what I said about the single supplement. On popular cruises, the supplement can be as much as it would cost to bring another person with you. By signing up for the Marco Polo group, the supplement dropped to 30 per cent.’

‘I don’t care about the bloody money,’ I snarl. ‘I care that you’ve dragged me onto this holiday under false pretences. If we weren’t in sodding Italy, I’d be walking straight off and going home.’

‘Why?’ She seems genuinely surprised.

‘Because I don’t want to go on a fucking singles cruise, Sam! I have no idea what a Singles Mingle event is, but I know I really don’t want to do it. Why didn’t you tell me?’

She does have the decency to look a little shamefaced now. ‘Because I knew how you’d react. Nobody’s going to force you to come to the singles things if you don’t want to. I’m sure you can go to the sail away party if you prefer.’

‘What are you going to do?’

She smiles. ‘What do you think?’

‘Great. So my choices are either go to the sail away party on my own, like some sad loner, or come with you to Barry’s mingling thing and be goggled at like a piece of meat.’

‘You don’t have to do either. You could stay in your cabin and enjoy the view.’

‘That’s even sadder.’

Our tense discussion is interrupted as we finally cross the threshold and board the ship.

‘Oh, wow!’ I breathe as I take in the view. We’re in a room that’s not unlike a hotel lobby in some ways, except it’s on a truly massive scale. It looks like it spans the entire width of the ship; there are tables and chairs dotted about and, in front of us, the concierge desks are already busy. There’s a huge staircase at one end, dominated by an abstract artwork that stretches towards the ceiling, three storeys up. Around the edge of the lobby are balconies, with open staircases running up and down between the levels. People are already strolling up them, looking completely at home, as if they’ve been here for months rather than a couple of hours. The centrepiece of the room is a massive crystal chandelier that hangs like a kind of inverted Christmas tree, with the top just above our heads. It sparkles as the crystals reflect the other light sources in the room, giving a kind of classy disco ball effect. I find myself wondering briefly how often they have to clean it before I’m distracted by a voice.

‘Welcome on board,’ a uniformed bellhop says to us. ‘Can I help you find your cabin?’

‘Yes, please,’ Sam replies. ‘We’re on deck seven, that’s all we know.’

‘Can I see your bracelet?’ the bellhop asks, and Sam turns her wrist so he can read it.

‘OK,’ he says. ‘Can you see the panel behind the concierge desks? The nearest lifts are behind that. Just choose level seven. Once you get there, you’ll find yourself in a lobby with a corridor on either side. Even-numbered cabins are on the port side of the ship, and odd numbers on the starboard. The numbering runs from the bow to the stern, but there are signs to direct you and I can tell you that yours is about halfway along on the port side.’ He turns to me. ‘Would you like to show me your bracelet so I can direct you?’

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