I must look surprised.
‘Oh, don’t give me that. He was a right lazy twat, and you know it,’ says Astrid, marching towards the bathroom. She hovers at the door. ‘What time are you leaving today, Mads?’
‘Not sure. I think Jackson is coming to get me once we have clearance to dock in Marmaris.’
‘We’ll miss you,’ says Tiffany. ‘We’re sorry we’ve been so awful, aren’t we, Astrid?’
She nods. ‘Yeah. It’s been complicated. You just got caught in the crossfire. Anyone need the shower? I’m going to throw up.’
Once she’s disappeared through the bathroom door, Tiffany turns to me. ‘Check out the Jekyll and Hyde mood swings. Prepare yourself. She’ll be a category-six tropical cyclone in ten minutes’ time. She’s sooooo pregnant.’
Yikes.
‘How do you feel about that?’
‘I’m pleased for her. She wanted him more than me, I guess.’
‘She wanted to get pregnant?’
‘Seems that way. She obviously loves him.’ Tiffany’s cheeks colour. ‘And she can have him.’
What the hell?
‘But what about you and Shaun? The turbulent love triangle?’
Tiffany laughs. ‘Hah! I’m not after Shaun for anything other than tactical shagging.’
The bathroom door opens, and Astrid comes out wiping the side of her mouth with a towel. I can see a depressing amount of toilet paper poking out of the bowl. I just hope I’m off the boat before she single-handedly blocks the entire plumbing system. She regards me for a moment. ‘What?’
‘Nothing,’ I say. I genuinely have no idea what is going on with these two frenemies.
‘Now that you’re so obviously pregnant, I will stop shagging Shaun,’ Tiffany declares, going over to Astrid to put an arm around her shoulder. ‘You can have him back. He’s all yours.’
Astrid gasps disbelievingly. ‘But I thought you wanted revenge for me sleeping with your ex. Which I told you a million times I’m sorry about.’
Tiffany grumbles with a tone of exasperation. ‘I can’t take any more of Shaun’s weird dressing-up fetish. Besides, my dad wants me back home. Says I need to do a proper job, using my degree instead of messing about on a glorified holiday. So I’ll be learning the ropes on the fast-track graduate scheme at his pharmaceuticals company. Plus, I might as well hand my notice in before Jackson sacks the lot of us.’
‘I’ll hand my notice in too, before either Jackson sacks me or the Hello Chicken family push me overboard.’ Astrid puts a hand to her belly. ‘I’ll need to take a test when we dock, just to be certain, but I’m not sure how Shaun is going to take the news.’
‘He’ll be fine. He needs to grow up anyway. Too many androgens and not enough oxytocin.’
Righto.Chemistry graduates. Who knew? So organised. So efficient. So no-nonsense.
* * *
Once upstairs, I catch my reflection in the mirrored door leading to the kitchen. Now that my hair is freshly washed and dutifully swinging around my shoulders in its lovely ‘Rachel’ style, my make-up is fresh and natural-looking, my uniform is pristine for once and my step is jaunty, I look like a different version of myself. A much more put-together version (nothing to do with Jackson coming back today or the look he gave me as he left, nothing at all. Nothing). This has been the longest week of my life and yet it has been transformative in so many ways.
When I push through the door, I’m pleased to see the chef has everything in hand. I speak neither Turkish nor Armenian so when he waves my offer of help away, I shrug gratefully. I wonder what he makes of it all. I point to the fresh-out-the-oven baklava pastries drizzled in honey and crushed pistachios. He immediately seems to sense who it is for and wraps a large piece carefully in baking paper for me. I take the staff stairs two at a time and make my way over to the dining area. Shaun is already setting out plates and cutlery and whistling an Oasis tune. He looks happy. I try my best to avoid his gaze, aware that Tiffany is currently gifting him to Astrid as though he’s a bunch of flowers or a voucher for a free spa day. I wonder how he’ll take to impending fatherhood.
Shaun plonks a plate down. ‘Thanks for your discretion with the whole Astrid and Tiffany thing, by the way. I owe you. It’ll be much easier to manage now that Garry’s not here, and I have a cabin to myself.’
He obviously has no idea what’s coming his way. He’s about to join one of the world’s biggest clubs; 121 million unplanned pregnancies occur globally each year. ‘You have a funny way of showing it. Trying to blame me for pushing Garry overboard?’
He laughs. ‘Well, it wasn’t any ofus, if that’s what you’re thinking.’
‘But you would have much more reason than me. Didn’t he disapprove of you constantly playing Astrid and Tiffany off against one another? Plus, your alibi didn’t hold up. Won’t the police leap to that conclusion?’
He stops laying the table, pausing for thought. ‘Only if you tell them.’
