The Holiday Cruise: The feel-good heart-warming romance you need to read this year. Victoria Cooke
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need to rebuild your business to be able to afford your house, and looking through these figures, you’re quite a way off.’ He plonked a pile of paperwork on the desk. ‘You could sell off your business, but it won’t fetch much, and when that money runs out, you won’t have the income needed to be able to afford the house. My best advice is to sell the house, use the proceeds to supplement your income until your business builds back up, and rent a small flat. You may even need a part-time job in the meantime.’ Wilfred let out a deep sigh. ‘I’m sorry, Hannah. I know you’ve been through the ringer and that’s not what you wanted to hear.
I stomped out of his office and headed down the high street towards the hairdresser’s. It felt like I was on the AGV Italo to failure, desperate to get off – I was no longer in control. The only thing I felt I could take any charge of was my shapeless bob. I popped in on the off chance they could squeeze me in and luckily Sheila came to the rescue.
‘Of course, Hannah, after what you’ve …’ I held up a finger to cut the well-meaning hairdresser off.
‘I’m moving on,’ I said defiantly. ‘But I’m going to need new hair to do it.’ I grinned.
‘Good girl,’ Shelia said, patting my shoulder whilst guiding me to the chair. ‘So, what are we doing today?’
‘I was thinking a few highlights to brighten it a little and a bit of shape cutting back in?’
‘You’re in good hands,’ she said placing an apron around me.
Soon, she was painting colour on my hair. The familiar tingling sensation on my scalp felt good. A trip to the salon was long overdue.
‘Olivia over there,’ Sheila said, nodding towards a young girl sweeping up, ‘she’s just had the worst date ever, you know.’
‘It was the worst date ever. He took me to McDonald’s and we didn’t even eat in,’ Olivia said sulkily. ‘Anyway, I told him, if he wanted to get a girl like me on a second date that he should reconsider his restaurant of choice. Another one bites the dust.’ She shrugged.
I laughed. It felt good. I admired how people had the strength to stick up for themselves and move on. When I was her age, I’d have probably felt flattered that someone wanted to buy me McDonald’s.
Absorbing some of her attitude I said, ‘Hey, you know. I never did get revenge on Daniel. Maybe I should have done more to pay him back.’
Of course I was joking, but Sheila jumped in almost too quickly: ‘Ooh, I would have. Burnt his clothes perhaps? Packed him up a box of embarrassing belongings – you know, like haemorrhoid cream or something for jock itch – and sent them over to his new place or his office marked “important”. Or made him jealous by hiring a gorgeous male escort to take me to the pub whilst looking fabulous.’ She cackled.
‘You’ve put a lot of thought into this for a happily married woman, Sheila,’ I replied with amusement.
Sheila ran her fingers through my hair, eyeing the shape with a grin. ‘Preparation is key, my dear. Now sit tight, I’m going to run the curling wand through this – the wavy bob is so in at the moment.’
‘Personally, I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of showing you care,’ Olivia chipped in.
‘What do you mean?’ I asked.
‘When I’ve split up with guys in the past, I’ve always just acted like I didn’t care. It always drives them mad to see me having fun, and always brings them back begging.’ She smiled smugly. It wasn’t such a bad idea.
Sheila teased the finished waves and added a bit of hairspray. ‘What do you think?’ she said proudly, holding a mirror behind me. My mouth dropped open. I looked like a celebrity.
‘I think I need you to move in with me and be my personal stylist. I love it.’ I swished my head from side to side to get a better look. ‘Thank you, Sheila. It’s just what I needed.’
‘And it’s on me,’ she said, smiling warmly. ‘Now get over to your salon and whack some make-up on. It’s quiz night tonight in the Foxglove, and you know who’ll be there don’t you?’
I gulped. ‘I can’t accept a freebie, Sheila,’ I protested. My precarious financial situation must have been the new village gossip.
‘You can and you will. I’ve been dying to do something different with your hair for years and now you look amazing – you’ll really make Daniel think twice when he sees you tonight.’
‘Well that’s very kind, but facing those two again is not something I want to do any time soon.’
‘You can do it. We’ll be in there at seven – have one drink with us, and book a taxi to take you somewhere nice at half-seven, just before the quiz starts. He’ll walk in as you’re leaving looking fabulous and wonder what he’s missing. We could even book you that male escort.’ She winked.
‘No thank you to the male escort – Tinbury isn’t ready for that.’ I shook my head at the silly idea.
I arrived home fully anticipating a night in front of the TV with a Chinese takeaway, but as I walked in I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror. My hair looked gorgeous; it was just how all the celebrities were wearing it. It made me wonder what Daniel would think – he always loved a new hairstyle or colour on me, or new clothes. Perhaps ‘loves change’ should have been a warning sign.
I shook my head, but my inner voice had a point. Maybe we had been stuck in a rut. Maybe something like this would wow him. I spent most of my time with my hair out of the way in a ponytail or bun depending on its length (getting wax in your hair is an occupational hazard), and despite the fake tan and the LVL Eyelashes, I probably did always look a bit samey.
After pouring a glass of wine, I headed upstairs to my dressing table. I spent a bit of time on some extra-special smoky eyes and nude lips, and slithered into a red dress I’d owned since I was about twenty-six and worn once. Trying it on was ambitious, but, to my surprise, it still fit. That fact alone excited me so much I decided to meet Shelia for a drink after all.
I marched into the pub feeling more confident than ever and spotted Sheila and Olivia straight away. Olivia’s eyes lit up as I walked over.
‘Wow, you’re slaying it for an older person.’ Slaying it? Olivia looked a bit sheepish. ‘Sorry, I was just trying out the phrase but it sounds weird in a Yorkshire accent. I think it reads better on a Kardashian’s Instagram post.’ She giggled, apparently less concerned about the ‘older person’ comment.
‘Er, thanks,’ I said, sitting down in the spare seat opposite her.
‘You look stunning, love,’ Sheila said. She lowered her voice. ‘Did you book a cab?’
‘Yes,’ I replied, suddenly feeling a bit foolish. Sheila didn’t reply. She simply took the wine bottle out of the cooler and filled the third glass that was already on the table. She knew I’d come. I wondered if Sheila had been scorned in the past.
Sheila spent the next ten minutes chatting about the roadworks on the A19 and the latest drama on ITV. Occasionally Olivia would look up from her phone and chime in, surprising us each time because it didn’t appear that she was paying any attention.
As it approached seven-thirty, there was no sign of Daniel – much to my relief. I downed the last of my drink and gathered my coat and bag. ‘Right, my cab is due so I’m going to head off.’
‘It’s only twenty-five past. You’ll just be standing out in the cold,’ Sheila said. My chest tightened a little in panic. I wanted to leave, not because Daniel didn’t show, but because there was a chance he still might. I didn’t want him to see me looking ridiculously overdone in my bright, ten-year-old beacon of a dress.
‘Daniel is always early,’ I lied, standing up and putting on my coat. ‘Thanks for today, I really appreciate it.’ I darted towards the door, each step closer chipped