A Different Direction

Anna and Joe prided themselves on making their own destiny, but they hadn't counted on what was to come...

- CLAIRE BUCKLE

Oh, dear, this is not a good omen," Anna said, looking out of the window at the torrential rain as the plane came to a halt on Jamaica's Montego Bay runway.

"Hopefully, it'll clear up soon," her husband Joe replied, unfastening his seat belt. Being six-foot tall and broad shouldered, he reached up with ease and took their bags from the overhead locker, handing petite, blonde Anna hers.

Once through customs, the supposed short coach journey to the cruise ship turned into a marathon, with nose to tail traffic and roads blocked by floods. The evening's forbidding grey sky and palm trees bending in the strong wind added to Anna's glum mood.

Joe nudged her, grinned, and held up his phone. "Cheer up. We've got two hundred more Instagram followers since we left!"

"Great," she said, but couldn't match his enthusiasm. He wasn't the one worried about seasickness or feeling anxious about what lay ahead.

The weather had reminded her of the ferry crossing to France a few years back, where the channel rocked and rolled and her stomach churned. She hadn't been prepared, and was glad she'd brought motion sickness wristbands for this trip. Buck up, she told herself.

They'd talked over taking this transatlantic cruise several times before agreeing it was an opportunity they shouldn't miss. Anna took a deep breath, vowing to be more positive.

At last, they arrived at the port and boarded the ship. They checked in at reception then took the swish mirrored lift to their cabin, a softly lit balcony room complete with a Queen-size bed.

After a bite to eat at the buffet, they agreed to call it a night.

Despite being tired, Anna lay awake listening to Joe's steady breathing and tried not to be disconcerted by the slight rolling movement of the ship.