Page 62 of The Cruise

Following instructions, Kath closed her eyes and swallowed the drink. ‘Good grief!’ she said as the alcohol hit. Her eyes bulged, and she shook her head wildly. ‘My body is on fire!’ But, as Bridgette had predicted, the drink did the trick, and Kath felt better in no time. Digging into her bag again, she produced a guidebook. ‘Do any of you fancy a trip to Nelson’s Dockyard?’ she asked.

‘Lead on,’ the Captain replied.

‘Sounds just the ticket,’ Bridgette said, patting the Captain’s shoulder. ‘Very naval and perfect for you, my dear.’

Anne felt that she’d sooner watch paint dry. But not wanting to be left on her own to wander around St John’s, she helped Bridgette collapse the Captain’s wheelchair and manoeuvre him into a taxi alongside Kath.

‘Victory!’ the Captain called out as they set off for their destination.

Kath began to read aloud. ‘“The dockyard started in 1725 to provide a base for British ships patrolling the West Indies. It was named in Nelson’s honour.”’

‘Fascinating…’ Anne yawned. She leaned in to study the time on the Rolex on the Captain’s wrist and hoped they’d soon be there. Perhaps there would be a sunny spot where she could relax while the others caught up on naval history.

As they drove through St John’s streets, Kath read from the guidebook. The passengers learnt that the cosmopolitan town was one of the most developed in the Lesser Antilles. Anne yearned to stop and window shop as she gazed at shopping malls and boutiques selling jewellery and designer clothing.

‘Jane would have enjoyed this trip,’ Kath said as they slowed to allow pedestrians access to a busy market. Stalls displayed fresh fruit, vegetables, and fish of every variety laid out on long marble slabs. ‘But I’m sure she’s having a good time with Selwyn,’ she added and informed them that the area they were driving through was known as the Citadel.

After a while, they reached the island’s south and, driving through the parish of St Paul, soon arrived at Nelson’s Dockyard.

‘It’s situated in a working shipyard,’ Kath commented as they got out of the taxi and began to wheel the Captain along the quayside. She studied the immaculately restored eighteenth- and nineteenth-century buildings while Anne checked the numerous bars and cafés.

‘Wow, I wouldn’t mind one of those,’ Ann said as she turned to face the harbour and studied rows of expensive yachts.

They stopped to watch a couple driving around the bay in a speedboat, reclining on white leather seats and sipping champagne. The woman threw back her head and laughed as the man whispered in her ear. Her jewels glinted in the sunshine, and she wore a long floaty kaftan with large sunglasses.

‘Dastardly Dicky…’ Anne hissed and glared at Dicky. He was oblivious to the onlookers as he entertained his wealthy widow.

‘Time for a livener, I think,’ Bridgette said as she, too, observed Dicky showing off in the bay. Gripping the handles of the Captain’s wheelchair, she set off to find refreshments.

‘You’ve had a narrow escape with that one,’ Kath said and linked arms with her friend, who brightened as they reached a bar.

‘I hope the weight of her jewellery overturns the boat and they sink,’ Anne said, ‘but in the meantime, I’ll have a pina colada.’

‘Pina coladas all round,’ Bridgette called out.

‘Victory!’ the Captain repeated.

‘Husband-hunting.’ Anne sighed and gazed at a group of handsome sailors on the adjacent table.

‘What happened to the sunshine?’ Kath asked and looked up at the darkening sky. ‘Do you think the storm is on the way?’

‘It will just be a shower at this time of year,’ Anne replied as their drinks arrived. ‘Cheers, everyone, here’s to many more relaxing times during the remainder of our cruise.’

* * *

On the other side of the island, Jane was far from relaxed. Selwyn’s day out continued with an off-the-beaten-path dune buggy experience, and now, taking a break, she took deep breaths to slow her heart rate. But the feeling wasn’t one of anxiety or pain. Jane felt exhilarated, as though she had conquered a fear and nothing else mattered but doing it again.

Selwyn reached into his rucksack and produced a towel. ‘Did you enjoy bouncing about in a buggy?’ he asked.

‘I think it is one of the best things I’ve ever done,’ she said and took the towel to rub at clumps of dried earth that covered every bit of exposed flesh.

‘You’re an excellent driver.’ Selwyn laughed. ‘Even covered in mud.’

Jane thought she must look like a buffalo wallowing on a sludgy riverbank, but for once in her life, she didn’t care. ‘I’m a terrible driver at home, but after this, I might take to the byways in a buggy,’ she said. ‘It would certainly liven up life in Lancashire.’

Their drive over Antiguan terrain had begun with guidance from a local who ran the event. Selwyn insisted that Jane take the wheel, and she reluctantly agreed. But as they rode along dirt tracks and through lemongrass fields, she started to relax and discovered the open-sided vehicle was light to drive but powerful underfoot. Heading to the southwest coast, Jane put the pedal to the metal as they approached the secluded Sea Fort Beach dunes, and they flew across the sand, the buggy becoming airborne as Jane screamed with delight and Selwyn clung on tight.

Jane wiped tears from her eyes when they stopped and ran to the sea for a dip to cool down. Lunch was a curried goat roti and beer from a beach vendor, and to Selwyn’s delight, his ghetto blaster played reggae music.

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