Page 39 of Going Overboard

‘All right, all right, their relationship is their business, let’s just get back to dinner,’ Neil says. ‘Shouldn’t we be talking about us, if we’re talking about anyone?’

He laughs to let us know he’s sort of joking. He’s not wrong though.

‘Well, just to let you all know, our plan while we’re aboard isto split our time between our family and our friends,’ Kelsey informs us. ‘That way, when we get to Sicily, we don’t feel guilty about not spending enough time with either group.’

There aren’t many people who will be at the wedding actually on the cruise, this is just for their family, their close friends… and Todd and Nikki, I guess.

‘Well, I know me and this little firecracker can keep ourselves entertained the rest of the time,’ Brody says, leaning over to kiss me on the cheek.

‘Oh, you bet, big boy,’ I reply as I ruffle his hair.

Brody smiles as he straightens his hair up again. He won’t have liked that.

It’s a strange game we’re playing: trying so desperately to pretend we’re in love to everyone but each other. At the same time, desperately trying to make clear that we don’t even like each other really.

And then there is everyone at the table, every last one of them sitting in silence, staring at us, like they can’t quite figure us out. Perhaps we’ll have to try harder, to lean more into to the love side of our love/hate relationship, but only for our audience, of course.

So long as people believe we’re in love, I don’t care if they think it’s weird. We’re doing it, the show is on the road, and it’s working. Kelsey seems happy, which is what I care about more than anything, and Todd and Nikki seem miserable. I know, petty of me, but a little bit of bitterness keeps you young. And I would be lying if I said it wasn’t fun, because it really is, even pretending with a himbo like Brody, it feels dangerous, kind of bonkers, but so, so much fun.

I just need to get through the next week, and I’ll deal with the fallout later when I’m back on dry land.

I just need to keep up the act… and probably never call anyone ‘big boy’ again.

16

I’m standing here with Brody, at the foot of the bed, the two of us staring at it like we’re waiting for some kind of divine intervention, or some act of God that either tells us what we need to do, or sinks the ship so that it no longer matters.

‘So…’ I say as I chew on my fingernail. ‘This is… problematic.’

Brody is standing next to me with his hands on his hips, surveying the bed, not seeming as stressed about this as I am, to be honest with you.

‘Is it really though?’ he replies.

‘Yes, Brody, it is. It absolutely is,’ I reply. ‘There is one bed. One. And two of us. Two.’

‘As impressed as I am with your counting – very good for a big girl?—’

‘A big girl?’ I snap back.

‘No, no,’ he insists. ‘Give over. Not like that. I was implying you were acting like a child and…’

My face slips into a smile.

‘Oh, okay, you’re having me on, hilarious,’ he replies. ‘But letthe record state that I have just been the mature one not once but twice.’

‘Doubt,’ I say with a snort.

‘I’m suggesting we share the bed, like adults, because this isn’t a romance movie,’ he says slowly, patronisingly even.

‘Yeah, and don’t I know it,’ I reply. ‘Because if it were you would be way more charming and, to be honest with you, playing a much sexier sport like American football or hockey.’

‘Well, when they shoot the American remake, I’m sure they’ll do that,’ he replies.

‘All of this to say, I am not sharing a bed with you, mate,’ I tell him. ‘Not a chance. I’d sooner sleep on the balcony.’

‘Well, that would solve the problem,’ he jokes. ‘Ah, come on, I don’t snore… that much.’

‘I don’t care if you don’t breathe,’ I tell him. ‘No way. I’m not joining what is clearly a long list of women who can say they’ve shared a bed with the “bad boy of cricket”.’

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