Not wanted on voyage - Chapter 1 of NaNo novel

       Her proposal came, as he later told her, with the felicitous timing of an amateurishly-plotted novel, one which relied over-much on coincidence to propel it to a credible conclusion.
       Following Isobel’s unrealistically optimistic departure, he had spent a couple of hours re-claiming his flat before sitting down in front of the television with a couple of rounds of mature Cheddar sandwiches, half a dozen pickled onions and a couple of bottles of Raven Ale to watch the Belgian Grand Prix.   A moderately eventful start had been followed, three laps in, by a coming-together of a rookie driver with one of the championship contenders, starting from the rear due to an enforced engine change.   No injuries but plenty of debris and, as the safety car was deployed for what looked likely to be at least half a dozen processional laps, his phone tapped out eight seconds of drum beat followed by the lead singer of Editors urging him to  ‘Pull the blindfold down, so your eyes can’t see’.
      There were not many of his work colleagues he would choose to speak to on a Sunday but she was one of them.   ‘Mad again,’ he said in greeting, mispronouncing her name, as always.
      ‘Rose’, she replied, using his surname as though it were his first but refraining, on this occasion, from the more teasing diminutive since she had a favour to ask.   ‘I don’t suppose you fancy being my husband for a couple of weeks do you?’
       He put down the bottle he had been about to take a mouthful from, grinning with delight.  
‘Madigan, my love, what a fascinating proposition!   I am between women at the moment, as it happens ... but I have to admit that while I like you well enough, I’ve never exactly fancied you ...’
       ‘Same here,   It’ll be in name only I assure you.   It’s just that if we’re going on a honeymoon cruise, the assumption will be that we’re married.’
       ‘Yes, I see that  ...  but why a honeymoon cruise?’
       ‘Because there’s been a higher than average number of grooms returning as widowers.   And I want to find out why.’
        ‘Ah!  Now I am getting interested.   When, where and how long for?   A fortnight did you say?’
        ‘Two weeks, yes,   The MS ‘Dunvegan’, departing Leith tomorrow week.   Scottish Highlands and Islands etcetera.   It looks like an insurance scam but there’s also some sort of link with an on-board lecturer on Archaeology, the chef and the croupier.  And when the ship calls at Lerwick ...’
         ‘OK you’ve convinced me, I’m on, so long as you promise that we don’t have to go through all that posh suit, white dress stuff.’

[I posted the first six sentences of this on 6S, and thereby confused several people, so I have done a couple of edits and am putting the whole of the opening chapter here.   Obviously my intention is to intrigue rather than irritate - if you have a comment on this I'd be extremely glad to hear it!]