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Joy’s eyes flew open at the strong language but more so, that someone was speaking English. She covertly tried to turn around to see who was getting so obnoxious and saw a tall, handsome man a few aisles back addressing a woman in front of him. They were both clearly upset. Joy turned back around quickly before they noticed her. The others on the ferry didn’t understand him or his cultured British accent which showed through his tirade and made the scene even more bizarre. Only Joy could understand his curses and threats. He was demanding the woman sign the divorce papers that he thrust at her and she was not being agreeable. Joy couldn’t help herself, she turned back to watch and listen. The Brit leaned in towards the woman. If he got violent, Joy had already decided, she would approach them, but she didn’t want to get involved if this was just a verbal battle.
She thought back to her own messy divorce and all the animosity that two people could generate. She wasn’t shocked as much as intrigued. Just sign the papers sweetie, you’re better off without him, trust me, Joy thought as she shrunk down a little lower in her seat not wanting to call attention to herself. The man grabbed the woman’s arm and twisted it as she rose to her feet and pulled back from him.
“Don’t you dare touch me, Richard. This whole trip was a mistake. I am done with all of it and with you. You’ll be hearing from my attorney later today.” She grabbed her expensive-looking handbag, paused for a moment and clutched at her hands, removing her wedding ring. It was a huge solitaire diamond. “Here keep this,” she said, slapping the ring on the table in front of him not too gently.
“If you are returning things, how about the bracelet?”
The woman glanced down at the circle of diamonds around her slender wrist. “No, I’m keeping this. I earned every damned carat.”
She marched to the exit and up to the open air deck. Richard sat back, looking positively lethal. He pocketed the ring and reached for his cell and made a few calls, his voice very low now.
Joy wondered vaguely what would happen to them, but not enough to keep her awake. She had come to the island to get away from drama, after all. She dozed until they reached the harbour.
When they arrived at the berth, Joy held back to collect all her camera equipment and knapsack. She wanted to see the angry Britisher disembark first. She watched him walk quickly off the gangway and then looked back to see where his wife was and spotted her coming down the stairs from the top deck. She held a tissue to her reddened nose and her tears glistened in the sunlight. Been there, done that, thought Joy, but right now I have some happier pictures I want to take.