living away from his mother in the new apartment still left him with enough of a twinge of guilt without him heading off to sea. His parents had run the practice from an extension of the huge family home for fifteen years. It still felt empty without his father.
But this was Sara Cohen. The woman he’d sworn six years ago he would one day make his wife.
Maybe he should rethink working on one more cruise.
NO SOONER HAD Sara heaved her suitcase onto her single bed and flung it open than a voice sounded out over the Tannoy, making her jump.
‘Could all renal care specialists report on Deck One for orientation in five minutes’ time? Thank you.’
She swept the back of her hand across her clammy brow and caught sight of herself in the tiny mirror, visible through the open bathroom door. Calling it a bathroom was a stretch, and already a source of amusement. She’d never been in a bathroom that looked this much like a cupboard before.
Running the tap and splashing cold water onto her face, she considered that she shouldn’t have taken that call from her father back at the hotel, which in turn had caused them to board the Ocean Dream at the very last minute. Now she had barely any time to change before she was due upstairs to join Esme and her new on-board carers, plus all the other patients she’d be sailing through the Caribbean with.
‘Anything can happen at sea. You’d better look after each other.’
She recalled the gentle warning in her father’s words. She hoped he needed no real reassurance that Esme would be fine. She was in her care after all.
She also hoped Esme wasn’t too scared, up on deck. This was a big deal for a five-year-old—let alone one like Esme. Not only was this the first time she’d been on a ship, or a boat of any kind, it was her first time away from the dialysis clinic.
She hurried to reapply her lipstick in the tiny mirror.
Esme was the lucky one here, really. She got to share a big cabin on another floor with several other kids—like a giant fun sleepover, complete with two carers on shift at all times. Sara was going to have to work night shifts, so sharing a cabin with her daughter just wouldn’t have been an option.
Applying her mascara, she thought of her sister, and their conversation the night before they’d left London for Fort Lauderdale.
‘I still can’t believe you’re working on a cruise. I thought you hated the ocean,’ Megan had said.
‘I don’t hate the ocean. You think I hate the ocean because I didn’t want to go snorkelling with you and your Latino lover. You were all over each other out there—I’m surprised the fish didn’t throw up.’
They’d laughed, but they’d both known it was still a bit of a sore point that their last ‘girls’ holiday’ together—almost a year ago now—had wound up with Megan frolicking in the waves for a week with a Mexican guy called Pedro, while Sara read the entire Game of Thrones series on her sun-lounger, feeling guilty about leaving Esme.
‘It’s not for pleasure this time anyway—it’s for work.’
‘I know...’ Megan had sighed.
Megan knew all about the haemodialysis patients, of course, and how much Sara cared for every single one in her charge.
If it hadn’t been for Esme’s illness, Sara would probably never have thought about adding dialysis training to her medical repertoire, but she was thankful now, more than ever, that she had.
‘Can you believe I get to introduce her to this new world, Megan? I get to help all these people see places they never thought they’d see.’
‘I think it’s amazing, what you’re doing,’ her sister had told her sincerely. ‘But just make sure you have some fun yourself this time, OK?’
‘I know, I know.’
The dialysis care was just part of Sara’s new position on the ship. She’d been hired as a member of the Ocean Dream’s wider medical team.
While she’d signed up for Esme’s benefit, and for whomever else might need her expertise on-board, she knew that during their free periods the ship’s staff were permitted to hang out on the main deck, where a lot of activities were set to take place.
They would be able to mingle with the guests and even go shore-side if the ship was in port. It was pretty much all-expenses-paid travel with a salary on top, and an opportunity she hadn’t been able to refuse when that nice recruitment guy Anton had called.
Draping her ship ID on its lanyard around her neck, she hurried out of the cabin and made her way down the narrow corridor to the elevator, smoothing her blonde shoulder-length waves of hair as she went.
She observed again the opulence of the ship. Paintings depicting landscapes and seascapes hung on the walls of the dark wood-panelled corridors. The golden railings beneath them warned of potential bumpy waters. But she was more excited than nervous.
The Ocean Dream’s dialysis team involved a handful of dedicated professionals from the UK, who would be caring for individuals on dialysis. Most of their patients were travelling with their families from Port Everglades.
She’d been told some of the regular medical staff on board rotated around various ships throughout the season. It sounded like a fascinating lifestyle. But for her this was a one-off. She could never contemplate it long term while she had Esme’s illness and her schooling to contend with.
‘It’s so fancy, isn’t it?’ An elderly lady giggled as she passed a painting of a golden-tailed mermaid.
‘It’s “a five-star hotel on the ocean”,’ Sara replied, quoting the website and hurrying on towards the upper deck, her green summer dress swishing at her ankles.
Passengers were still wheeling cases into staterooms on both sides of her and she felt another spike of exhilaration. The Ocean Dream was a luxurious beast, packed with almost five thousand regular customers, all paying top coin for, also quoting the website, A unique combination of first-class accommodation, live entertainment, exceptional cuisine and a wide choice of restaurants, bars, lounges and clubs.
Bermuda, Aruba and Antigua were all on the itinerary. And Sara was still grinning at the prospect of introducing Esme to the joys of sandcastle-building in the Caribbean when she reached the deck.
The harsh Florida sun launched at her head and shoulders, blinding her for a moment to the crowd gathered round a makeshift stage where Dr Renee Forster, the highly regarded leader of the dialysis team and one of the two practising nephrologists on board, was already speaking.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ she whispered to Esme’s official carer, Jess.
Esme, standing at her knee height in denim shorts and a purple T-shirt, seemed concerned.
Sara took her little fingers. ‘How are you doing, baby girl?’
Esme
