‘We are, um, doing a stocktake,’ says Shaun unconvincingly.
The captain raises an eyebrow. ‘Listen. I don’t care what the three of you get up to as long as none of the passengers have to witness it. You have your cabins.’ He clears his throat. ‘I suggest you use them.’
Oh, my word. He thinks we’re having a threesome. ‘No!’ I shout instinctively. ‘Christ, no. It’s not like that. I’m not… would never… not with these two. Just because Shaun’s having…’ I’ll leave it there.
‘What she’s badly trying to explain, Captain, is that Shaun and I are in a loving and exclusive relationship and would never invite someone this uptight’ – Tiffany hoicks a thumb at me – ‘or nerdy to have a threesome with us. Would we, Shaun?’
Shaun is standing with his arms semi-folded, a fist propped under his chin, while he eyes me up and down like a personal shopper trying to assess what outfit could possibly transform me into someone alluring enough to have sex with. ‘Probably not, no.’
The captain, once again, clears his throat. ‘I feel this conversation is veering off topic. Where is Garry? Someone explain where he is.’
I hang my head. ‘He’s not here.’
‘Pardon? You mean he’s not down here. He must be elsewhere on the boat?’
We shake our heads and watch his eyes widen with realisation. ‘He has taken the speedboat to the mainland?’
Again, we shake our heads. ‘I’ve counted all the kayaks, the jet ski’s still here and the dinghy is flat,’ I tell him. ‘It’s like he’s just disappeared.’
‘Search the boat again. Every inch. Meet me on deck. I’ll put a call out to the Turkish Coastal Guard to see if he has fallen in the water and been picked up by a passing vessel. In the meantime, be discreet. We don’t want to cause any panic.’ He marches to the edge of the boat, pulls a small set of binoculars from his trouser pocket and begins to scan the sea. It has never looked so vast. There is no land in sight. Even if Garry had fallen in, he’d have to be an expert swimmer to make it to any of the islands we have passed. And don’t get me started on the sharks.
‘Who saw him last? And when?’ the captain is asking.
Shaun and Tiffany point at me.
* * *
As everyone scatters to begin a new search, I grab Tiffany’s arm as she turns to leave. ‘If someone were hiding on board, where’s the last place you’d look?’ I ask her.
‘The waste pipe?’
‘Which waste pipe?’
‘The one that flushes the toilet and kitchen waste out to sea.’
‘Where is it?’
Tiffany leans over the railing and points down the side of the gulet to a round opening just above sea level.
‘How would you even reach that to check?’
She shrugs. ‘No idea. I wouldn’t do it even if I could. But that’s where I’d hide. I’d block the waste trap first, obviously. Wouldn’t want to get flushed out to sea. Same thing happened once on our way to St Lucia. We thought the toilets were blocked but it turned out we had a stowaway in the pipe.’
Oh. My. God.
‘I suppose you could get into that harness and lower yourself down from the standing rig,’ she says, flicking her hand over to the main mast and a box containing ropes and metal clips. ‘I’d do it but I’m also the only one who knows how to control the rigging to come back up.’
‘I’ll do it,’ I say before I can change my mind. ‘Help me get strapped into the harness.’
Tiffany sighs discontentedly. ‘Okay, sure.’ She rummages in the box and pulls out a stiff, waxy nappy-type structure and deftly manhandles me into the complicated system of harness, safety shackles, pulleys and ropes. She hooks several carabiner clips to a joist and then on various parts of my body. It is only when I am clambering nervously over the railing that she screws her eyes, taps a finger against her chin, thinks for a moment and informs me the descent will have to be upside down.
‘But why?’
‘I’ve gone and put it on you the wrong way up.’ She bends her head to the side. ‘Yup. I did wonder why all the hooks were so difficult to do.’
‘Well, let’s take it off and start again.’
‘No time.’ She glances at her watch. ‘Come on. Over you go.’
