When he looked back over the carcass of what he had, wrongly, as it had transpired, presumed was a happy marriage, he realised that the connubial deathwatch beetle that had done for the marriage had its genesis some six months previously when his wife, his ex-wife, as he supposed was the correct way to think of her, had pointed out an article in the English language version of an Italian publication she liked to read called, “Donna Cattiva.”

The article was titled “Swinging the 21st Century Way.” It had been an interesting article, for what it was. It gave a potted history of swinging down through the ages, and pointed out that, following a downswing (and yes, the author actually did use that somewhat clunky pun in the article) during the AIDS crisis, it had recently received a boost, especially after a couple of Hollywood stars had come out as swingers. Or rather, had been outed as swingers, which wasn’t quite the same deal, now was it?

“Have you ever thought of swinging, Mike?” she had asked, casually. Oh, how casually she had asked.

He looked at her and responded carefully, fearing a trap of some kind. “No, Carol, love. I haven’t. Why would I want to eat hamburger when I have the primest of prime steaks at home? I really think that you are the only woman that I could ever possibly want, or need.

“Maybe I’m an unusual man, though I doubt that, somehow, but all I want is my wife. I feel certain that I might well have problems differentiating between sex, lust and love, should I try swinging.

“I’m afraid that if we started swinging that one of us would fall for someone else and really mess up our marriage.”

They had discussed the concept of swinging long into the evening, she had posited the upside, he had posited the down side.

Eventually she had smiled at him, she had nodded and said: “I hear what you say, honey.”

It was only afterwards, a long time afterwards, when he realised that she had used the oldest trick in the book. “I hear what you say” is not the same as saying: “I agree with you” or even “I am listening to what you say.”

They had made love that evening. Mike had had a good, loving time and so had Carol. At least as much as he could tell.

The next six months were crazy busy for the two of them. Carol worked as an editorial director at a publishing company in Chester City Centre, not far from their home.

The company was called Anglo Welsh Publications, whilst Mike worked in Liverpool City Centre as a director of a multinational software house, San Frantechmatics. The HQ was in Silicon Valley, but the Liverpool office was based on The Strand, near to Liverpool Docks.

The first few times after he’d started working there, he’d driven on the M53 and A59, which was supposed to take roughly 40 minutes but he hated driving through the Mersey Tunnel, with congestion it sometimes took an hour or more.

Then there was the hassle of finding a parking place, so he took the advice of a Scouse colleague called Rob, who was something of an expert on all matters transport, and Mike started using the electric Merseyrail train from Chester station to Liverpool James Street that formed part of Liverpool’s underground rail system.

They were both working silly hours; sometimes Mike wouldn’t get back until 9PM, but Carol had told him she didn’t mind as she was also busy with a new project at work, a new Welsh-English language teaching pack that would be a real winner for her company. Sometimes she was out working until after 9PM herself.

Nearly six months later, both of their projects had wound down so that their roles had diminished and Carol sprung a surprise on Mike. “Mike, you know that my company had really put all that it had into the teaching pack?” He had nodded.

“Well, it’s worked out even better than we had thought possible. The Senedd Cymru have agreed to use our Welsh-English language teaching pack in all of the schools in Wales, even those that aren’t specifically Welsh language schools, so we’ll make at least quadruple what we thought we would.”

“Wow! That’s really good news, Carol.”

“It’s even better for us: you and me, I mean, because it was my suggestion to our board that brought that idea to fruition, so I have earned an absolutely massive bonus. And because of this, I have been able to book us a cabin on a Round Britain and Scandinavia Adventure Cruise. I’ll show you the brochure. Here it is.”

He looked through the brochure and was immediately captivated by the types of adventures that the Wingless Roving Adventure Holiday Company offered in its brochure.

The cruise started from Liverpool Docks, crossed the Irish Sea and travelled round the coast of Ireland, via the Celtic Sea and the Atlantic.

It then crossed over the tip of Ireland, visited the Western Isles and Scotland, then visited the Orkneys and travelled via the Atlantic and the Norwgian Sea, then over the North Sea to Norway and Denmark, then back across the North Sea to the Scottish port of Greenock, where the cruise ended, and flights home would be arranged from Glasgow International Airport, or back home by First Class Sleeper Trains, if required.

As he looked through the brochure, it was all things that he loved. There was the opportunity to visit an archaeological dig in the Dublin Bay area (he had a degree in archaeology but hadn’t been able to find work due to lack of funding for archaeology), and then all the way round the Irish coast to County Mayo in Western Ireland.

They would then visit ancient sites on the Scottish Islands, including the Hebrides and Orkneys, plus visits to a Viking site in Norway where the more adventurous cruise passengers could watch, or even participate, in Viking reenactments, covering village life including cooking, craftworks, living overnight in a reconstruction of a Viking home and watching or participating in a Viking military reenactment.

On the ship there was plenty to do. There were photography classes led by a former Fleet Street photographer, ideal if you wanted to develop or refresh your photography skills before visiting the archaeological dig, the islands of Scotland or the Viking settlement reenactment and snapping away to your heart’s content.

There was also a member of the Royal Academy of Arts who would be taking art classes as the cruise-liner made its way round the British Isles and over to Scandinavia.

People who were interested in cooking would be able to learn how to cook under the tutelage of an Irish Television Chef who was taking a break from his hit RTE 1 Food Show, “West Coast Chef.”

Before the ship returned home to Britain there would be the opportunity to see the Northern Lights, weather permitting.

There were tears in his eyes as he hugged Carol to him. “Oh, Carol. This is amazing. How much is this costing you?”

She smiled back at him and shushed him. “That’s not something you need worry about, Mike. The crazy bonus we all got was tax paid, so I have money left over, so really, please don’t worry, Okay?”

The photographs in the brochure made everything look splendid, and the ship, the Maighdeann na mara (Scots Gaelic for Maiden of the Sea) was one of the smaller cruise ships, being able to provide accommodation for approximately 130 passengers.

He looked at Carol and said, with concern in his voice, “But this is all stuff that I am interested in. You are not interested in archaeology, photography, history and that type of thing, so what will you do, Carol?”

She nodded and smiled, “Whilst that’s true, this cruise is about you and what you want, for a change. I’ll be sure to find something to do. After all, there are art classes and who knows? Perhaps I’ll take up an interest in art whilst we sail round the coasts of Britain and Ireland and Scandinavia?”

“Thanks, Carol. This means a great deal to me. We’ll have a great adventure.”

She grinned, “We will, that!”

They had both booked two weeks off from their jobs, and on the day of the start of the cruise they took a £40 taxi ride from their home in Chester to the Liverpool Cruise Terminal, Gate 2, Princes Parade, Liverpool.

Their luggage was dealt with by crewmembers, but as they walked up to the ship on the modern equivalent of the gangplank, Mike was puzzled to see that the ship they were boarding was not the Maighdeann na Mara but a different ship called The Spòrs inbheach.

“Why the different ship?” he asked Carol. She answered coolly, “Oh, I don’t know why. It’s very similar to the other ship, same size, same colours, same cruise company, so perhaps the other ship is out of commission?”

They were met on the deck by crew members who, rather incongruously, were dressed in tropical ship’s whites. It reminded him of something, but he couldn’t think of what.

A smiling young female purser presented each of them with the electronic passkeys to their cabin. She said to Mike and Carol: “There is an orientation party in the Ballroom on the B Deck at 5PM. Everyone is expected to attend the orientation party and there will be drinks and nibbles provided.”

They noticed that all passengers boarding the ship did so under the watchful eye of the Captain, a tall and imposing man in his white uniform. He was reminiscent in looks of a younger Captain Smith of the Titanic.

Their cabin was actually on the same deck as the entry gangway, so they soon walked to their cabin. The other passengers seemed to know each other and there was much hugging and kissing. Mike thought it a little bit strange, but as he’d never been on a cruise-liner before he wasn’t sure if that was normal behaviour.

Their luggage was already in their room and they quickly transferred their clothing into the chests of drawers and the wardrobe.

As they did Mike said: “Carol, everyone seems very friendly with each other. It’s almost as if they already know each other?”

She paused for a second before replying. “Perhaps some of them do, Mike? After all, cruising is a lifestyle for some people, so maybe you get to know people on the ships if you make regular cruises?”

“Yes, I expect that’s it,” replied Mike. “Maybe we can get used to cruising, too?”

“Oh, ‘‘ said Carol, breathily, “I’d like that very much.”

“How long do we have before the orientation session?” asked Mike.

“We have an hour,” said Carol, it’s just before 4PM, now. I tell you what, as this is our first cruise, let’s start it off properly, yes?”

She pulled four small bottles out of her handbag and opened two of them. “What’s that?” Mike was intrigued.

“Just some pre-mixed shots I picked up in the off-licence round the corner from our house. I think we need to celebrate our first ever cruise.”

They said “cheers” touched the lips of the bottles and downed their shots in one. Then they had the second shot each, “just for good measure,” Carol had laughingly said.

Soon, Mike had started to feel unusual. He staggered and Carol, who had suddenly appeared at his side, said: “Are you okay, Mike?”

“I don’t know. I feel really tired, really, really sleepy.”

“Lie down on the bed,” Carol had said, steering him toward the king-sized bed in their cabin.

“Maybe it’s the sea air that’s affecting you? Just have a doze and I will wake you up before we need to leave for the orientation session.”

He had allowed her to help him lay on the bed. Before he could speak to her again, he was unconscious.

She looked down at him. “I’m so sorry it came to this, Mike, but you only have yourself to blame for all of this.

“If only you’d have agreed to my suggestion of having a swinging lifestyle, you’d have been having an adventure on this cruise, too. But I am going to have an adventure, no matter what. And it will be the fucking adventure of my fucking lifetime.” She sounded kind of manic as she spoke at him.

She kissed him on his forehead. “Sleep well, Mike. I deserve this.”

She walked out of the cabin, closing the door behind her.

When Mike awoke, he felt bewildered as he was unsure of where he was, at first.

Realisation came quickly as he looked at the clock in the cabin and noticed that it was eight o’clock. He panicked. “Shit! I was supposed to go with Carol to the orientation session at 5PM,” he thought.

He sat up and felt dizzy and disorientated. From outside the cabin he heard two women talking. “What did you think of our breakfast?” “Oh, I loved it. I think the chef is even better on this cruise than the last cruise we were on.” “Yes, I agree with you. He’s really good, isn’t he?”

Their voices faded away as they walked on. But why were they talking about breakfast? Which must mean that Mike had slept for 16 hours. How was that possible? He looked at the bottles containing the drinks he and Carol had consumed. Something was bothering him, but he couldn’t work out what.

Then he began to worry. He hadn’t seen his wife since the previous afternoon, and they were on a cruise ship. Where the hell was she? Had she fallen overboard?

He stood up and stumbled, reaching for the support of a chair by the bed. He looked at the dresser and saw his key card. He picked it up and went out onto the walkway beyond the cabin. He noticed a fairly short, young and attractive woman in ship’s uniform who seemed to be an officer. He decided to ask her what he should do about his apparently missing wife.

“Hello ... Miss. I’m worried about my wife. I seem to have lost her. She never came back to our cabin last night.”

“Hello, Sir. My name is Aileen McDonald. Amongst my other duties, I am the Passenger Liaison Officer of the ship. What is your name? What cabin are you in?” She had an attractive Scots Highland lilt to her voice.

“My name is Mike Jones, my wife is Carol. We are on this deck in cabin C 15.”

“Well, let’s go to your cabin. I’m quite sure there’s a simple explanation as to what has happened to your wife. And I’m certain that she is perfectly safe and that no harm has befallen her.”

“Thank you, Aileen; it’s just that I was worried that she might have fallen overboard, or something.”

As they entered the cabin Aileen’s eyes opened wide when she saw the brochure on the table in the room. “Where did you get that brochure, Mr. Jones?”

“Oh, please call me Mike. It’s the brochure for this cruise, isn’t it? My wife gave it to me a couple of weeks ago to show me what’s going to happen during the next two weeks.”

Aileen looked distressed. She chose her words carefully. “Mike, I’m afraid to tell you that I think your wife might have misled you. That cruise brochure is for our sister ship the Maighdeann na mara.”

Mike shrugged. “Well, what cruise are we on?”

“As you may be aware, the ship we are on is the Spòrs inbheach. It’s actually a cruise for sexually adventurous adults. It’s basically a cruise for swingers. The name of the ship is Scots Gaelic for adult fun.”

Mike gasped. “What the fuck? Swingers? But we aren’t swingers.”

Then his mind went back to the conversation about that bloody magazine article just six months previously. “My wife asked me what I thought about the swinging lifestyle about six months ago.”

Aileen spoke gently to him. “And I guess that you said no to her, but you think she might have gone ahead with it anyway?”

“Yeah, something like that. But if only one partner swings, then that’s cheating, not swinging?”

“I suppose so, Mike. I think you have a good point, there. Look, you obviously have a lot to think over now that you have found out what your wife has done. As far as your wife is concerned, I will make discrete enquiries about what she has been doing. And Mike, I didn’t see you at the orientation session yesterday, so how come you didn’t attend the orientation session?”

“I was going to, but Carol decided we should have a couple of shots that she provided and soon after I began to feel really sleepy. Carol made me lie down on the bed for a nap. She told me she’d wake me up in time for the orientation session, but she never did.”

Aileen glanced at the cabin’s table and looked at the four bottles that were still on it. “So, what time did you take those shots and when did you wake up this morning?”

“I think it was 4PM, yes, about that, because Carol said we had an hour until the 5PM session, and I awoke at 8AM this morning.”

Aileen gathered up the bottles. “Mike, I’m very worried. That means you must have slept right through for a total of 16 to 17 hours; that’s almost an entire day. I believe it’s probable that your wife gave you a drug to knock you out. Do you mind if I take these with me?” He gave his permission.

“Why would she do that?” Mike was beginning to sound distressed. He’d already suspected that Carol had drugged him, but the confirmation of that by someone independent had really struck home.

“Because, Mike, the orientation session is a very important part of the cruise. People attending it are reminded what type of cruise they’ll be on, in part to stop situations like yours. Though we have only ever had one other case similar to yours over the ten years we have been running these adult adventure cruises.

“Everyone attending the orientation session gets a safe sex kit and there’s an opportunity for anyone who has changed their minds about being on a sexually liberated two-week cruise to take a boat back to the docks. It’s my guess that this is why your wife knocked you out.

“What she did is not only illegal, it’s also against the rules of the cruise company, and we will certainly be looking at taking action against her. We simply cannot have innocent spouses being drugged by their partners. It’s just not right. And it’s very dangerous.”

She asked him if she could take the bottles with her as she left, Mike thanked her. He slumped into one of the easy chairs in the cabin.

About ten minutes later, a somewhat chastened Carol walked into the cabin. “Hello, Mike. I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up.”

“Where the hell were you, Carol? What were you doing?”

She ignored his question, looked at him and said: “I think we need to have a chat.”

He looked back at her. “Bit too late for that, I’d have said?”

She flushed. Perhaps she was even a little bit embarrassed? Probably not, he thought.

“The thing is, Mike, this isn’t the cruise I told you it was. It is an adventure cruise, but it’s an adult adventure cruise, specially designed for sexually liberated adults. I know this will sound cruel and dismissive of you, not that I intend it that way, but this is actually my adventure cruise and not your adventure cruise. I spent last night having sex with two couples, two men and two women, in their suite.

“I had intended to be here for you when you awoke, but things kind of got away from me today.

“I wanted to explain to you what was happening early this morning. I’m truly sorry that I didn’t manage that.

“And before you ask, I intend to carry on having sex with them and with other partners throughout the next two weeks of the cruise.”

“And just what am I supposed to do on this fuckfest of a boat while you repeatedly smash your wedding vows?” he asked.

She sounded irritated. “Oh, get over it, Mike! Nobody gives a stuff about wedding vows, these days! Look, I know you’re upset, but it’s your fault for not wanting to join me in swinging when I asked you six months ago.”

“But I am quite happy and satisfied with having only one sexual partner: you, the woman I chose to get married to. I don’t need multiple partners. I don’t want multiple sexual partners.”

She took a deep breath before she continued. “But that’s the difference between you and me, Mike. You are satisfied with our sex life; you are satisfied with only one sexual partner. But I am not. I really do need sexual variety, it’s no slight on you, I need more than one sex partner. But sex isn’t all that important to you. Is it?”

She looked at the expression on his face and she realised that she had seriously wounded her husband, the man she loved. Loved? Yes. Loved. She still loved him. At least she thought she did.

“Shit! I’m sorry Mike, I realise that what I said is upsetting and that it has severely hurt you, wounded you, even, but I thought that the time for total honesty was here.”

“If you don’t love me anymore, why didn’t you just ask me for a divorce?”

She shook her head vigorously. “Because that’s not true, Mike. I know you probably don’t have any reason to believe this at the moment, but I do love you and only you. There’s a massive, major difference between lots of sport bonking and the loving love-making that we do as a loving, committed couple.”

Mike thought that her over use of the word “loving” was over-egging the pudding, and probably her way of trying to convince herself that she still thought of him in that way. And her idea of “committal” didn’t ring true with him, now.