Crash (Working Title)

2.

Doris looked at Ken and smiled. They were sitting aboard the Aurora, a 76-ton cruise ship sailing them around the Mediterranean. Specifically, they were sitting in Champion's bar, a sports-type pub aboard the ship. Even though they'd been in Italy that day, Ken was still keen to catch up on the football game playing that evening now they were back on board. He sat comfortably in a high backed armchair while Doris sat opposite on a bouncy 2-seater sofa. She didn't know who was playing, she'd never been a fan of football, but she was happy to keep Ken company while he watched. She had a small glass of white wine on the table in front of her and a woman's magazine in her lap. Ken took a sip from his lime and soda glass before placing it back down on the table. The noise of the glass missing the beer mat at first and clinking on the table made her look up again. Ken's hand was on his chest, rubbing the area.

"Are you still having that pain?" she asked.

"A bit," he replied, giving it another rub before shifting in his chair. Doris tried to go back to her magazine article but she found she couldn't concentrate.

They were on day 7 of their 19 night cruise and so far had seen Spain and Italy. While they'd thoroughly enjoyed their time so far, Ken hadn't been feeling well since the first few nights aboard. They'd been to see the on-board doctor and they'd told Ken his blood pressure was high, which could account for his chest pains and headache. They'd prescribed him some tablets to take and had asked to see him each morning to check him over. They hadn't been that morning because they arrived early in Italy, but planned to continue tomorrow morning now they were back on board. Ken had been taking the medication as prescribed, but Doris was concerned now that his pain seemed to remain.

"I think you should go back and see the doctor," she said then, voicing her thoughts aloud.

"I'm fine!" Ken insisted, waving away her thought like a bothersome fly. He didn't like fuss, never had, but it wasn't like him to feel unwell. They were supposed to be on the best holiday they'd ever had, and Doris didn't want to spend the time worrying. She tried to listen to her husband and took a sip of her wine before delving back into her magazine.

A short while later, the football game finished and their drinks had emptied. Doris finished the page she was reading and closed the magazine shut, rolling it up and sticking it into her handbag by her feet.

"What do you want to do now?" she asked, knowing they had so many options aboard the ship. There was always some entertainment on, somewhere to eat or drink, or even just a walk around the ship.

Doris caught her husband's eye and instantly she knew something was not quite right. His face looked paler than usual.

"Would you mind if we went to bed?" he asked. "I'm still feeling a bit off-colour."

"Oh dear," she replied, getting up and hooking her handbag across one arm. In the other, she took Ken's arm and helped him up from the chair.

They walked slowly out of the pub, their arms linking each other. As they walked, Ken didn't speak, and after a short while, she felt him stumble slightly.

"Right, we're going to the doctor!" she announced. Something wasn't right and she wasn't taking him to bed without getting him checked over first. Usually he would argue, but this time, he nodded. "Okay love," he said quietly, and they descended towards a corridor where she remembered going the day before. The ship was huge but there were plenty of signs and arrows pointing them in the right direction. Doris wanted to march there, run there, even, but Ken was slow beside her and she didn't want him to feel worse. She could hear his breath getting more laboured, as if the journey was tiring him out. This wasn't her Ken. He was a fit and healthy 67-year-old man. He still rode his bike, he played squash with his friend Doug. He would never be worn out from a short walk.

Doris' thoughts were distracted as she felt her arm tugged downwards, Ken's arm leaving hers. She turned to look and saw him thud to the floor, his body hitting the hard floor with impact. He was out cold.

"Ken?" she called, lowering herself to the floor beside him. When he didn't respond, she called again, louder.

"Ken!" she shouted in a panic, shaking his shoulders. He lay still, his eyes closed, his face pale.

"Come on, Ken!" she shouted, shaking his shoulders with more vigour, hoping that her voice would startle him awake. She didn't know what had happened. She looked around frantically to see if anyone was around and caught a couple entering the corridor hand in-hand. They were middle-aged, perhaps 40s, and they looked shocked when they caught Ken and Doris on the floor.

"Please help!" Doris shouted, not really sure what to do. "He just went down, I don't know what's wrong- Ken!" she shouted again, trying another feeble attempt at shaking him. As she did so, the man of the couple ran down the corridor to find help while the woman sat beside her.

"What happened? Is he your husband?" she asked, an air of worry in her voice.

"Yes, Ken, he's my husband. He hasn't been feeling well, they said he had high blood pressure. I was taking him to the doctor – he fell –he – Oh Ken," Doris started to cry, feeling hysterical. Her words were fast and blurred together.

"Is he breathing?" she heard the woman ask, and Doris realised she hadn't really done anything, checked anything. Why hadn't she checked?

"I don't know- I-"

"It's okay," the woman said, and Doris watched as the woman bent forward, placing her ear to Ken's mouth and nose. She was still for a moment and then she sat back up.

"I can't hear anything," she said, and Doris felt her heart hammer loudly in her chest.

"No, no, no!" Doris repeated, feeling panic rise through her body. This couldn't be happening.

"We need to try CPR. Do you know CPR?"

"I-I think-I don't know-"

Doris watched as the woman started pumping her husband's chest, hard and fast, her whole body weight looked as if it were pressing into him. Then, and there, Doris felt a sort of unreality hit, as if she were watching the scene from above, as if it weren't really happening to her, not to her husband. It couldn't be.

__ ___ ____ ____ ____

Doris woke from the dream in a sweat. The bedsheets beneath her were wet and warm and her heart was beating quickly in her chest. She realised then that tears were sitting in her eyes and one had travelled down her cheek. She wiped it away as she came back into the present moment of her bedroom, realising she had been in a dream, yet it had felt so real. She could remember Ken's passing like it were yesterday sometimes. The panic she'd felt when he'd gone down in that corridor, the sight of that kind woman trying to help, and the doctors words later, 'I'm very sorry but he's gone.'

Gone.

The words were so final. Neither of them had been able to say goodbye. She'd never expected to lose him, let alone on their cruise holiday. He never got the chance to see Croatia, or Italy again, or Gibraltar, all the stops that were yet to come on their cruise. He never got to take advantage of the drinks package they had paid for, or the entertainment on board, or the myriad of food options and shops. Doris was able to see it all, for she was stuck on that ship until they docked back in Southampton, all the while knowing her husband's  body was on the ship, waiting to be transferred once they were back in England.

She'd had to tell Mark over the phone that his dad wasn't coming back from the cruise. She'd called and he'd answered, "Hi mum! You enjoying yourselves?". It was the hardest phone call she'd ever made. What was she supposed to say?

Doris checked the time on the clock on her bedside table. It was only 5o'clock in the morning but she could never get back to sleep after those dreams. She didn't have them very often anymore. They used to be more frequent but it had been 18 years now and as they say, time is a healer. She'd always miss Ken, and she'd always be traumatised from the sudden way he went, but she didn't see the details as clearly now. She didn't think about it all the time, she didn't dream about it all the time. It was then that she glanced back at the clock, for the date this time. Tuesday 2nd May 2023. The date that Ken died all those years ago. She hadn't realised the night before. It was as if her subconscious knew.