On the topic of Rachel, she was supposed to have met Lori here some time ago, where had she gotten to?
Lori stretched and sat up, lazily getting to her feet.
“For fuck sake, Rachel”, she mumbled and went in search of her girlfriend.
Over on the other side of the ship, perched on the balcony and loathing every second of the experience was Martha. What little enjoyment there was to be gained from this trip came from solitude and the little things she took for granted, like the gentle breeze grazing against her face. The least she could say was that this breeze was pleasantly familiar, very British, and not too cold.
She raised a lit cigarette to her lips, revelling in the pleasure of something so small, something that in the grander scheme of things seemed all the more essential. Martha would consider herself a necessary smoker, she'd only smoke when it was truly necessary, a vast improvement from the excessive smoking she once used to do.
Ironic that, a surgeon that smoked. To be entirely honest, there were several factors contributing towards her habit uptake at the time, of course you couldn't leave out the stress of the job itself; cigarette breaks just seemed like stop gaps between every surgery, surgeries that in themselves required calm, concise, logical and more often than not quick decision making. It took its toll on both the body and mind, that was indisputable, especially for a bloody great surgeon such as her.
She had worked her ass off for not only that title, but also the respect that came with it in what was once a male dominated sector.
Numerous awards to her name, thousands of successful surgeries under her belt and yet she couldn't shake the toxic feeling of disappointment. Maybe if her daughter or at the very least her granddaughter had followed in her footsteps, it might have been worthwhile, but as it was, they were proving to be as much a disappointment as the males who had interrupted her content life.
Maybe her granddaughter’s waywardness was just a by-product of the self-destructive nature of her daughter, her life choices, her atrocious taste in men and her will to remain foolishly blind to the truths unravelling before her.
A shudder passed down the back of her neck as the cigarette smoke eased her soul just enough for her to forget she was on a boat in the middle of the ocean.
That didn't last long however, as the beep coming from the activation of the door keycard propelled her to throw what remained of the cigarette over the balcony and into the sea. Her daughter wasn't aware she still necessarily smoked and the last thing she wanted to hear was a self righteous bullshit lecture.
Much more to her irritation, it wasn't her daughter or the toad she called a husband, but instead that annoying flea they instructed to keep an eye on her, Irini and besides her another woman Martha could only assume she brought along for assistance.
“Hello Miss Rosemary, are you enjoying the voyage so far? I brought someone here to help take care of you, her name is Amelie, a professional carer and she'll tend to your needs. She's absolutely lovely, so I'm sure you'll get on”.
Amelie looked no more than sixteen, a baby, barely old enough to tie her own shoelaces. That ridiculously cute baby face and skinny frame looked about old enough to take care of a dolly, certainly not an elderly woman such as herself. Were they taking the biscuit? The best they could find to tend to her was a baby barely out of diapers? She was better off alone.
Irini explained the situation to Amelie, detailing all the listed requirements Christine had left behind, before leaving her to it.
“I'll be back to check on you later, ma’am”. Irini took her leave.
Amelie thought she'd use this time to bond with Martha, but if she was hoping to get anywhere with that, she'd have better chances attempting to freeze the ocean over.
“Hello ma’am, my name is Amelie, as… erm… Irini introduced us. I'll be the person to handle your daily needs throughout the voyage, so if you need anything, you can rely on me. How are you today?”
Martha remained tight lipped, peeved that she had thrown away a perfectly good cigarette, thinking it was her daughter or her toad. This made for a particularly awkward experience for Amelie.
“Yeah… erm… so I'll just follow the instructions”, she continued, clearing her throat, “If you need me at all, I'll just be here or in the staff cabin towards the end of the corridor, just press one of the service buttons”. She hurried off, probably feeling stupid for attempting and failing to initiate a friendly discourse.
Martha sighed, where did they find these bumbling idiots?
As the day came to a close, Lori and Rachel dolled themselves up a little and hit the onboard bars, pre-drinking before hitting the onboard nightclub, Tidal. By clubbing standards, Tidal didn't look like much, but it wasn't as though they were spoilt for choice, for the club was the only one available, however it was made up of three sections, a retro section, a modern pop and r&b section and a house section. The quality of the
