Page 30 of Hook, Line and Single

‘There must be some. I mean, how many of us are there? Thirty?’

‘I’d say nearer fifty.’

‘Statistically, I’d think you’d get at least one couple out of that lot, wouldn’t you?’

* * *

By the time I woke this morning, the ship was already docked, but I’d felt beautifully refreshed after one of the best nights’ sleep I think I’ve had in ages. Sadly, the same couldn’t be said for Sam, who’d sounded distinctly groggy when I’d called her to check she was awake. Thankfully, after a shower and breakfast from the buffet, washed down with copious amounts of coffee, plus the discovery of a note from Barry informing her she’d been picked for Blind Date, she’d perked up and we’d been just in time to join the Pompeii tour. My heart had sunk a little when I’d spotted Brad on the bus, but thankfully he’d already collared some other poor victim and I’d smiled as I passed his seat and overheard him telling her that he’d lived in Rome for a year and was pretty much fluent in Italian. I don’t know whether she’s a part of our group or not, but she already looked desperate to escape him.

‘So, my questions,’ Sam says to me as we stand in the Forum gazing towards the temple of Jupiter. ‘According to the information from Barry, each one has to tell them something about my life, and then I have to ask them how they feel about it. For example, “I’m very close to my parents. What would you do to impress my mum and dad if I took you home to meet them?”’

I giggle as a memory comes to me. ‘Probably not be groping you when they walked into the sitting room.’

She claps her hand to her mouth. ‘I’d forgotten about that. That was Micky in sixth form. I don’t know who was the most embarrassed out of the four of us.’

‘I wish I’d been there.’

‘It was mortifying, especially the way he stood up and said, “Nice to meet you, Mr and Mrs Thorncroft,” with his erection clearly visible through his trousers. Dad just looked at his outstretched hand and said, “Son, if that’s been where I suspect it’s been, I have no intention of shaking it.” He never came near my house again and we broke up shortly after that.’

‘Did your parents ever say anything?’

‘Nope. What could they have said? “That boy we found with his hand in your knickers seemed absolutely charming, when are you going to invite him round properly?” I think we all just wanted to pretend it had never happened. Anyway, we’re getting off topic. What questions am I going to ask?’

We ponder the matter in silence as we pass the temple and head for the Forum baths.

‘It must have been an amazing place,’ Sam murmurs. ‘I just can’t get my head around the fact that all these people woke up, expecting a normal day, and then boom. All over. It makes you realise how precious life is, don’t you think?’

‘Perhaps you should put that in one of your questions,’ I offer. ‘I spent today in Pompeii and it made me realise how precious life is. Where do you feel most alive and why?’

She stops and stares at me. ‘That’s brilliant! I knew you’d be good at this. Hang on, let me write that down.’ She pulls out her phone and launches an app, typing in the question. ‘Two more to go.’

‘One of them ought to focus on the handsomest cat in Margate, don’t you think? So instead of asking what they’d do to impress your mum and dad, you could ask what they’d do to impress Samson.’

‘You’re on a roll,’ she enthuses, typing the question into her app.

* * *

By the time we get back to the ship, late in the afternoon, Sam is decidedly pink from the sun despite her sunhat and liberal application of factor 50, which gives us our final question. I can’t believe that I’m actually quite looking forward to watching her strut her stuff at tonight’s singles event, but then these things are probably more fun as a spectator.

When we get to the Nautilus lounge, Barry is already a whirling dervish of excitement and organisation. A large screen has been erected at the rear of the room to prevent the interviewers from seeing the people they’re going to be questioning, but we’re amused to find that the other interviewer is Brad.

‘Whoever he picks is in for the dullest date in the history of time,’ Sam remarks when he’s safely out of earshot. ‘Still, at least I know that whoever I pickwon’tbe him, so that’s something to be thankful for.’

‘I suspect the accent and voice would have given it away.’

‘Sam, darling girl,’ Barry coos as he bustles over. ‘I need to take you and Brad to another room while we set up in here. Have you got a drink? Good. Come with me. You look stunning, by the way, so gorgeous.’

It may be a long time since I’ve seen the show, but I have to admit that Barry does an excellent job as host, channelling Cilla Black to perfection. Three men are carefully secreted behind the screen before Sam is brought in to wild applause.

‘Your friend seems to be entering into the spirit of it,’ a British voice says next to me. I turn to see a man who’s probably a few years older than me, with light brown hair and hazel eyes set either side of what would have been a perfect Roman nose had it obviously not been broken at some point. His lips are surprisingly full for a man, but they suit him somehow. I would describe him as striking rather than just ‘good looking’ and, like me, he’s wearing an amber badge.

‘Cameron,’ he says, offering me his large hand.

‘Ruby,’ I reply politely. ‘And yes, this is Sam’s idea of heaven. She’s a hopeless romantic, so this will play to all her strengths.’

‘OK, quiet, please, ladies and gentlemen,’ Barry calls, waving his arms to try to quell the din. ‘We’re ready to start. Sam, would you read your first question.’

‘Certainly, Barry,’ Sam simpers coquettishly, drawing a muted cheer of approval from the audience. ‘My first question is this. I spent today in Pompeii with my best friend, and the tragedy that unfolded there made me realise how precious life is and how we should seize every moment and live it to the full. Where do you feel most alive, and why?’

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