Should have taken the Eurotunnel. Emily steadied herself on the railing, knuckles turning white and staring into the approaching fog. Salt waves rocked the ferry gently. The sloshing water would usually soothe, but the swaying only nurtured the growing pit in her stomach.
Tingling goosebumps raised across her arms. Dense and damp mist sapped out any warmth from her skin, the chill barely noticeable under the sense of claustrophobic dread as the mist rolled onboard. She stopped breathing as the temperature dropped. The ringing in her ears became vertigo. A looming shape, something unidentifiable, formed from the fog.
A hand landed on her forearm heavily, and she squealed. Like the snap of a rubber band, the surrounding chatter of fellow travellers rushed in all at once. The white noise was overpowering her senses, and Emily tried to mask the discomfort of hearing the muffled chatter that sounded like a direct whisper in her ears. She could almost picture the hot breath skimming the top of her scalp, and tingled unpleasantly at her unwanted imagination.
“Jumpy today.” Miles snorted before handing over a hot chocolate.
The heat seeped through the plastic cup, and she used it to ground herself, willing the sensation to turn into a pleasant burn and, like cotton wool, cut her off from the background. Pulse still pounding in her ears, she forced herself to look back into the haze, but no matter how much she strained, her eyes couldn’t find the silhouette she previously spotted.
“Ems.” Almost back into her trancelike state, the nickname jolted her back to reality.
“I’m fine.”
“Liar.”
“I’m fine.”
“Liar.”
Refusing to meet Miles’s eyes, Emily sighed through her nose and took a sip of the hot chocolate, wincing as she burned her tongue. She brushed it against her teeth and focused on the sting, the tension in her shoulders visibly melting with the distraction.
“Thanks for the hot chocolate.”
“Ems.”
“I told you.” Her voice turned bitter. “I don’t like boats. I told you. You’re always making me do shit I don’t want to and wondering why I’m upset.”
“You’re never going to build more confidence if you don’t get out of your comfort zone.”
“Right.”
“I’m trying to help you.” Miles placed his hands on the rails.
“You never listen to me, not until I’m on the verge of losing it.” Emily took a deep breath, sipping her drink and waiting for unshed tears to be drained away by tear ducts.
“Like this should be easy. That it should be simple. I feel useless. I feel like a pathetic burden who can do nothing right. And now, and now, I feel guilty. You think any of this is easy to say? You keep pushing me. You just keep pushing.”
Despite their scuffle being at normal volume, Miles was ever aware of the growing number of eyes pointed in their direction. Something that Emily was oblivious to, uncomfortable with the audience, Miles dropped the conversation. Glad that his friend wasn’t the type of person to storm off and cause a scene in public, not that there was anywhere to run to on the ferry.
Allowing the silence to settle between them, he followed her gaze into the fog and wondered what she was looking for.
Like a kettle about to boil over or a balloon about to burst, Miles was tense, tapping his fingers on the rail as the lull in conversation stretched on. Searching for something neutral to break the quiet that unsettled him.
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“We should be able to see Calais soon.”
Knowing it took a while for Emily to form her thoughts, he allowed her the time instead of thinking she was giving him the silent treatment, though patience didn’t come easy to him. She took another sip of the hot chocolate used as a soothing tool more than a beverage and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“Yeah.” Her voice was no longer angry, but drained. “I dunno about you, but I can’t wait to get off this boat.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re not driving.”
“You wouldn’t have to drive if we took the Eurotunnel.”
“Yeah..” Miles winced, rubbing the back of his head and laughing nervously. “I’d say we could take it on the way back but..” He pointed at his red ford fiesta. “Next time. Next time we take the tunnel.”
For the first time since embarking on the ferry, Emily managed a smile as she looked over at him, a mix of gratitude, fondness, and guilt in her shiny eyes before she could school it into something more neutral. For someone so cagy, her expressions were awfully easy to read.
“Sweet.”
“You’re paying though.”
Frowning, Emily stared back into the fog with a severe expression, as if solving a complicated problem. Coming to some sort of conclusion, she nodded to herself and took another drink.
“Ok.”
“That was a joke.” Miles barked a laugh that echoed in the mist.
“You know I take you seriously.”
“You really shouldn’t.”
“Can’t help it.” She shrugged.
No longer wanting to look into the fog, Emily sat on the deck, heedless of the looks it earned her. Taking her phone from her pocket, she started up a mindless game of slither, made even more so by being unable to play it online.
“Let me know when you can see Calais.”
Headphones blaring in her ears, Emily played undisturbed for some time. A long time. Checking the clock, she frowned and ran her tongue over her teeth. They should have arrived by now and yet.. The other passengers congregated in a loose circle, talking animatedly amongst themselves. Miles was among them, along with the captain, a middle-aged man with palms raised in a pacifying gesture towards the small group.
Behind them, the fog had blessedly cleared, allowing for the glistening sea to peak over the rails with every wave that passed beneath them. For a moment, Emily observed the glistening water and tried to conjure up the feeling of serenity that water usually brought. Failing, she sighed and decided it was time to figure out what was going on.
“Everyone just keep calm-” Captain Williams, a short and round man, aborted his speech with a step backwoods as an angry Frenchman aborted his discussion with the other passengers in favour of approaching him with balled fists.
“This is ridiculous. How can you get lost crossing the channel!?” Ryan’s anger made his accent more prominent.
“Mum..” A preteen boy tried to grab Vicky’s attention, only to be brushed off gently.
“I don’t think we’re lost.” Vicky was a tall and slender woman. Though calmer, she carried a firm tone that demanded being listened to. “We were near the shore. The fog rolled in and when it cleared, it was no longer in sight. There’s no way we could have drifted enough for it to be out of sight.”
“Mum look..”
“Stop pestering your mother, Liam.”
“But dad-”
“But nothing.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. If not lost, then what? Aliens?”
“There’s no need to talk to my mum like that. We’re all in the same boat here. Ha.” Issac, the young man, looked close to Emily and Miles’ age. Her eyes darted between mother and son, though she could see the resemblance of their roman noses and rounded eyes. She was having a hard time believing the woman was old enough to be his mother.
“Dad.”
“Liam be quiet.”
“Lost or whatever.” Miles joined in. “What are we going to do about it!?”
A momentary silence followed the question. The boy moved to stand behind his parents, peeking from behind their backs as the group turned to the captain as one. Red in the face and looking as though he had just bit into a lemon, his eyes darted between them all nervously, as if being interrogated.
“I don’t know.”
“Pour l’amour de Dieu, je le ferai moi-même.”
Shoving past the captain, nobody tried to stop him on his way to the control room. Just before he walked out of sight, a young girl of about six bounced after him, clutching a doll in her hand. Copying her father, Alice slammed the door behind her once, only to come out frowning and trying again with more force.
Despite the situation, Emily couldn’t help her mirth at the sight, but suppressed her laughter into a singular snort. It wasn’t quite inaudible if the sudden eyes on her were any sign. She smiled sheepishly at their pointed looks, playing with the zipper on her fleece as they went back to ignoring her.
“Navigations down. The compass is acting weird.-”
“Mum, dad, look.” Liam pointed towards the sky. Emily was the only one who followed his hand.
“For the last time-”
“There are two suns!” She yelled.