Senorita, may I help you?’ said a voice.
The sun was so bright, I could barely look up. I felt dizzy and couldn’t remember where I was.
‘I’m fine, thank you, nothing to worry about,’ I responded as I pushed myself up.
Squinting into the sun, I could make out the blurred figure of a man. He was wearing white, like a guardian angel, and I momentarily regretted refusing his helping hand.
One of my sandals had fallen off and, as I looked down at my exposed foot, I remembered where I was. If only I’d listened to my mother’s concerns about the inappropriateness of high heels on deck.
‘You don’t look very well,’ the man said sympathetically, and as I heard him, I felt a wave of nausea wash over me. My legs wobbled and I gently lowered myself back down into a sitting position.
‘Truly, I’m absolutely fine,’ I said, smiling weakly.
‘Possibly just poor sea legs,’ the man replied.
I must have looked like a rag doll propped up against the stack of
