I turned and there she was, an apparition, a sensuous being and yet remote, she moved in a slow sinuous way as if to an inner rhythm.

The sound of a Latin band filled the air, it’s hypnotic beat fitted her movement without movement. Her hips moved beneath the folds of her dress which swayed as if to enfold her body in it’s own embrace. Her lifted arm moved with the grace of a swan and revealed the curve of her sumptuous breasts as they moved in that undulating and hypnotic way designed to inflame the senses.

She remained aloof, her desirable lips curved as if to tempt but don’t touch. Her honey blond hair hung over her closed eyes as if to say love me if you dare.

Would that I dare, that my arms should hold that form in a close embrace as we danced the night away to the encircling rhythms of the Latin beat?

Warm sea breezes brought the exotics scents of tropical islands to the open deck of the liner, decked out in bands of coloured lights and palm fronds to mirror their image, and it was here that she stood as the moon was caressed in the southern skies.

I lounged at a table and signalling a passing waiter ordered two glasses of Calvados, it seemed that nothing else would fit the occasion as I anticipated the romantic night ahead.

I lifted one of the glasses in her direction as a salute and an invitation, and taking a sip from the glass set it down, arose, and with a suitable Latin abandon made toward her.

With that she moved toward me and fell flat on her face, looking up with bleary eyes she said in a strong Lancashire voice,

’Sorry mate, I’m pissed!’