‘How very reassuring. A BA Honours in Stuff.’Yes, I’m being petty.‘Phew, at least our melting ice caps and ever-expanding hole in the ozone layer will be in safe hands. And what were you thinking we could do about the global economic recession and the conflict in the Middle East?’
Garry glares pointedly at me. I can see he has no idea what to say. He is currently a man for whom a witty retort is disappointingly out of reach. He makes a few attempts to start a sentence as I fold my arms facetiously in wait. I can’t explain it but there’s just something about him that I immensely dislike. Some bad energy. Some inexplicable untrustworthy vibe.
‘If you two could stop bickering for a moment, I’d like to get on with the briefing.’ Jackson slaps a pile of papers down onto the table with a loud thwack. Everything seems to go downhill from there as Jackson barks out orders and instructions as though we are all imbeciles. ‘You,’ he says, pointing at Astrid. ‘This will be…’ He checks his clipboard. ‘This will be Bodrum South’s fourth assignment to a gulet. What’s the first rule in the boat safety handbook?’
Astrid does not respond well to being put under such pressure. A small gurgling sound escapes her lips before she bursts into tears. Jackson runs his hand over his forehead. ‘Jeez. Anyone else?’
‘Something to do with safety equipment? Float plans? Emergency protocol?’ pipes up Tiffany proudly, to Shaun’s obvious amazement. She reaches for his hand. ‘I was virtually raised on sailing holidays off the Caribbean. Well, luxury cruise ships mostly but it’s similar.’
Jackson looks relieved that at least one of the team might have an inkling of what to do in an emergency. We are then subjected to what could arguably be described as the most intensive and horrifying whistlestop tour of drills, in case there is a man overboard situation and whether that man is the captain or a passenger, lifejackets, fire extinguishers, flares and other boat safety equipment. What to do if the bilge pumps or steering system fails. He’s asking who will be in charge of medical kits and the satellite radio in case we get thrown off course or someone on board develops a contagious or deadly disease.
By the time he has finished it is very clear that no one wants to go on this trip. Rather like my old algebra teacher, Jackson has sucked the joy from it entirely. I’m finding it hard to believe that less than twenty-four hours ago this man was wearing a traditional red fez headdress, smoking a bong and talking about how hard butterflies have it. Now he’s talking as though he’s the head of some special elite force.
‘Any questions?’ he asks. They all raise their hands except me. ‘You,’ he says, pointing at Tiffany.
‘Can I go to the toilet?’ she asks.
He makes a frustrated hand gesture as though she was free to leave any time she needed to. ‘Next question?’
‘What time is the food coming? Because I’m starving,’ Shaun says, proceeding to debate what constitutes the perfect corporate buffet.
‘Is it finger foods?’ asks Garry Gee. ‘Because I need a kebab. My stomach is eating itself.’
‘There’d better be salad for me. I’m dieting,’ says Astrid to Shaun, posing for him. ‘A body like this doesn’t happen by accident.’
Shaun checks that Tiffany is not on her way back from the toilets before saying flirtatiously, ‘You look perfect to me, darlin’. Proper knockout.’
Astrid giggles at the compliment and reaches out to stroke his arm but not before a returning Tiffany catches sight of the gesture. While she picks up her pace from the other side of the hall, Shaun steps quickly away from Astrid, who gives him a tight-lipped frown.
Jackson clears his throat noisily, disappointment etched on his face. ‘Any questions about the boat safety procedures or on-board protocols?’ He is met with blank looks.
‘What are the staff sleeping arrangements?’ I enquire briskly. ‘You also mentioned a number of variables to do with risk assessments, passenger safety and adverse weather conditions. Could you clarify those, please?’ I’m not stepping foot on board that floating piece of artisanal wood unless I know it is safe. My mother would have a heart attack if she knew I was being cast out to sea without any proper training.
I try to ignore the monumental groan from the team as Jackson politely runs through each concern in order. He’s very efficient and highly intelligent, I’ll give him that. Each time I open my mouth, he supplies the correct answers without my needing to ask. He’s impressively thorough which does not go down at all well with Garry Gee who is giving me daggers every opportunity he gets. He looks as though he is masking a boiling rage while Erika, at the opposite end of the hall with her elite team of Bodrum North, looks as though she is trying not to smirk. Shaun is also rolling his eyes at me, whereas the girls stand rigid, their jaded faces unmoving as though Jackson is reading out cricket scores. They have gone into a bored, trancelike state.
It’s a relief when Jackson signals for a lunch break. Several Turkish waiters roll trolleys into the hall, laden with mezze and platters of sizzling meatballs, flatbreads and salads. The aromas blooming into the air perk everyone up, and as they charge towards the buffet table, I hear Jackson call my name.
‘Maddie, can you wait for a moment, please?’ he asks formally. ‘I’d like a quick word, if I may?’
11
I take a moment to deliberate his request and briefly consider turning it down. ‘You may,’ I finally reply in a formal tone. ‘I presume you want to explain why, at the eleventh hour, you have upended my career at head office in favour of throwing me to that pack of wolves.’ I nod my head towards the buffet table.
He flicks his gaze to Bodrum South who are swearing loudly while they behave like hyenas tearing an antelope apart. They are elbowing each other out of the way to load their plates as high as they possibly can. The Bodrum North team are eyeing them with apprehension, and are wisely giving them plenty of space.
‘Particularly when all I’m guilty of is turning up for work looking slightly dishevelled,’ I continue, trying not to raise my voice. ‘After a night in your company, I might add… under the influence of contraband supplied byyou.’
Christ almighty, he’s still incredibly handsome, even when scowling directly at me. ‘I haven’t really got a choice,’ he says in hushed tones. ‘I’ve been blindsided here.’
What?(Cue a monumental gasp from me.) ‘You’vebeen blindsided? What about me?’
He has the good grace to look momentarily thrown. ‘Look. I just think we need a bit of space to figure things out here.’
‘I don’t need space and there’s nothing to figure out. It’s very simple. You are deliberately sending me away to do an entirely different job to the one I’ve been hired to do because…’ I can barely finish the sentence. ‘Because you’re embarrassed. About last night and what we…’ It’s no use. I can’t finish the sentence. I will simply leave it hanging in the air forever.
‘It’s not like that. Last night… or my feelings about it… or my feelings towards you… have nothing to do with the decision to station you on the gulet.’
We glare at one another.
