Page 6 of Going Overboard

I key in the phone number for Emma, the wedding planner (or is she the wedding coordinator – I can never remember which one is which).

I stare at the number for a second before pressing call, taking a deep breath like I’m about to jump in at the deep end.

I suppose I am, in a way. I just need to get this over with, ask her to sort it out, to wave her magic wand or iPad or whatever it is she uses and make it all okay.

Kelsey will have made sure there was a back-up plan for this.

Well, not specifically me getting dumped right before her wedding, but the need for an extra room here and there.

I don’t even care who keeps the cabin Todd and I were meant to share.

He can have it. I don’t care if his has the better view, the fluffier towels, the minibar stocked with champagne.

Hell, he can sleep in a penthouse suite with a hot tub and his own butler for all I care.

I just want a door between us. The more the merrier.

All I care about – the only thing – is not sharing a room with my ex at Kelsey and Neil’s wedding.

And it’s not even simply a room, is it? It’s a cabin, on a ship, that will be at sea for multiple days, multiple nights.

It’s bad enough I have to share a ship with him – I mean, it’s bad enough I have to share a fucking ocean with him – but the cabin, that’s the pressing matter. That’s what I need to get sorted.

But I’ve spoken with Emma before and she’s… what’s the opposite of a breath of fresh air? The opposite of ‘nothing is too much trouble’? Because her attitude stinks, and literally anything you ask of her is too much trouble.

Ah, well, here we go. I sigh and finally hit ‘call’.

Two rings and she picks up.

‘This is Emma,’ she says, in a way that sounds like she believes it just cost her money, having to explain that to me.

She sounds like someone who irons her nighties and judges people for drinking Prosecco instead of champagne.

‘Hi! This is Jessa, I’m Kelsey’s chief bridesmaid. She suggested I call you as we just need to make some changes to the cabin set-up, for the boat.’

Silence. Not the sort of silence where someone’s writing something down. The kind where you can hear the frown. A silence just long enough to suggest I’ve already inconvenienced her.

‘And what sort of change would that be?’ she asks.

‘Well, it’s?—’

‘And it’s a ship, not a boat,’ she can’t help but interrupt me.

‘Isn’t a ship just, like, a really big boat?’ I ask.

‘I don’t have time for this, Jessa,’ she snaps back.

Ha! She was the one who started it. Anyway…

‘Right, well, as I was saying, we just need to make some changes.’

‘You said that,’ she replies. ‘What changes?’

If she could stop interrupting me for five seconds, I could tell her .

‘I am currently down as sharing a room – a cabin – with Todd,’ I say, quick to self-correct, before she chimes in with any more fun facts. ‘We need separate rooms. Cabins! We need separate cabins.’

Another silence, this one even frostier than the last.

‘You want me to help you with that?’ she asks.

‘Well, yes, please, Kelsey said to call the wedding coordinator, or the planner – you, basically.’

‘I suppose you think they’re the same job,’ she says, sounding offended.

I absolutely do. But I don’t know the difference between a boat and a ship, so…

‘And why are we making such significant changes when the wedding is imminent?’ she asks.

‘We’ve broken up,’ I reply, keeping it simple. No need to unpack it too much, not when I’m trying to stuff my emotional baggage to the back of my mind.

I have a tendency to overshare when I’m anxious, or trying to justify myself, or make myself easier to relate to. If I start elaborating, I’ll end up telling her about the slow dancing, being savagely dumped in public, and the rogue floating ice cream in my bathwater. No one needs that visual.

‘Are you drunk?’ she asks.

‘No,’ I reply – although I have had a couple of cocktails. I thought it might help, give me a bit of Dutch courage, to make the phone call I’ve been putting off.

‘Are you high?’ she asks next.

‘Look, I know it’s late in the day, but I wasn’t expecting to need my own room, or for Todd to need his own room…’

‘Late in the day? Do you know how long I’ve been planning this wedding, young lady? ’

I try not to snigger at her calling me a young lady, because I’m pretty sure she’s not much older than I am.

‘You should have let us know sooner,’ she informs me. ‘We’re very close to the event, and cabin allocations were finalised weeks ago. We might have something in reserve, but no promises.’

I inhale slowly, doing my best to hold back the sarcasm that wants to burst out of my body, Alien style.

‘Right, yeah, sorry about that. I didn’t plan on getting dumped, you know? Bit of a surprise for me too.’

So, not keeping it all in too well then.

She makes a noise, one of those little huffs of annoyance, not so subtly letting me know that she’s not at all impressed.

‘I’ll also need to confirm with the other guest on the booking,’ she continues. ‘Todd, is it? Make sure this is what he wants too.’

Of course.

‘Right, yeah, let’s make sure Todd’s comfortable,’ I reply. ‘We wouldn’t want Todd – who surprise dumped me – not being comfortable.’

‘You say he dumped you?’ she replies – when I literally just told her that. ‘Surprising.’

Lovely, she’s being sarcastic. Just what I need right now.

‘Yep,’ I reply, popping the ‘p’.

Emma sniffs. ‘Well, as I said, I’ll see what I can do. But we’re under quite a bit of pressure, so next time, a little more notice would be appreciated.’

‘Okay, Emma, thanks so much, yes, next time I’ll tell you sooner,’ I reply with faux enthusiasm.

‘Thank you,’ she replies, not picking up the tone I’m putting down.

I hang up before one of us says something we will regret.

I fling my phone onto the bed and flop down next to it, groaning into the duvet.

None of this is going to be easy, is it?