hadn’t as it took ages to arrive and was undercooked and soggy when it did. She sat in the shade and people-watched for a while then she slowly meandered back to the shuttle bus, taking photos and calling in at shops en route to see what souvenirs they had for sale. She bought an apron for her sister which looked like the front of a Flamenco dancer’s dress and a hat for herself which was white with a pink swirly pattern on it.
There was no queue at the place where Angie was to pick up the shuttle bus but she was definitely in the right spot because she could see the Mermaidia in the distance on the water with her yellow distinctive funnel. Ten minutes later, Angie was still standing there alone. She checked her watch to find it was two o’clock, still early. She thought she better start walking though. She reckoned it would take her about fifteen minutes to reach the ship if she fast-paced.
She had covered less than twenty metres when the Mermaidia blasted its horn and Angie felt a prickle of apprehension, which quickly grew to a full painful stab of panic as she saw the ship turn in the water and then set off towards the open sea.
Chapter 8
A few things happened all at once: Angie froze, her stomach cramped, her hands crackled with pins and needles and a whirl of mad thoughts took over her head: What do I do? I have to get back on the ship. I have no clean pants. What must Gil be thinking? Strangely, the fact that she didn’t have her passport on her didn’t feature in those immediate priorities. Or a mobile phone. She watched the ship growing smaller and mistier as it set off for the Croatian island of Korčula and she felt dumbstruck and very very numb.
But then her survival instinct reared up and assumed immediate command.
Head to the port. There is another tourist ship there. With any luck they might be going the same way and give you a lift , it suggested. She caught up with an elderly couple walking towards the port eating ice creams.
‘Excuse me, are you on that Regal Island ship?’ she asked.
‘Yes, we are. Can we help you?’ They were American.
‘Where’s it going next?’
‘Lisbon.’
‘Ah, thank you.’
Shit shit shit shit shit shit.
Angie overtook them, ran into the port building and over to one of the officials.
‘ Excusez-moi ,’ she began. Damn. Where was all that schoolgirl Spanish when you needed it? ‘ Senor. Hablas espanol? ’
‘ Si, senora .’
Bloody hell. Of course he spoke Spanish, he was Spanish. ‘Sorry. Hablas ingles? ’
‘ Non .’
Shit shit shit shit shit.
‘ Senor. Estoy… en el barco Mermaidia. ’
‘ El barco ha zarpado ,’ he replied, gesturing outwards with his hand. The ship had sailed, that must mean.
‘ Si. Estoy …stuck . Help. Por favor. Socorro. ’ Estoy up el creeko de shit sin paddelo .
Although the official hadn’t a clue what Angie’s words meant, he could guess. ‘ Un momento. ’ He lifted his mobile phone out of his pocket and pointed her towards a row of seats. Angie made a heavy walk towards them and sank down on the end one. This was a nightmare. How could she have missed the bloody ship? Didn’t Vernon say they’d be in Malaga all day? Did he actually say that or had she presumed it was? Why hadn’t she checked? Who didn’t confirm what time you had to be back on board? The official walked over and handed his phone to Angie.
‘Hello,’ said a Spanish-tinged calm male voice. ‘I understand you have missed the Mermaidia. ’
‘Yes,’ said Angie, trying to keep a little-girl sob out of her voice.
‘Right. So we need to reunite you with it. My name is Manuel and I am the Malaga port representative for Figurehead cruises.’
He sounded kind and nice and not cross.
‘The ship sails into Korčula in three days’ time. You need to get to the airport and book flights to Dubrovnik. You have a credit card?’
‘Yes. I’ve got a credit card.’ Oh, it was easy after all. Angie could have laughed with