‘We went to a citrus grove place – kind of random. Jack took us there.’
‘Oh really? Jack took you? I wonder if that’s his grandmother’s place...’ Petra trailed off, deep in thought.
‘Grandmother?’ Sofia was puzzling the pieces together slowly. That would explain the Italian.
‘Yeah, I remember him saying something about that once. His mum’s mum has lived on Capri on and off for years. He used to spend summers on the island when he was a kid.’ Petra peered out of the side of her eye as they walked along the narrow corridor together. ‘So you two managed to get along today then?’ There was an edge of conspiracy to her tone, and she gave Sofia a playful nudge.
Sofia had a lot more questions she wanted to ask, but she knew that that would only give Petra more of the wrong idea.
‘It’s not like that, Petra,’ Sofia said a little too defensively, ‘but if you must know, yes, it was quite nice actually. He’s not so bad once you get past all the...’ Sofia mimed running her hand through her hair, and turned to give Petra a big Jack-esque grin.
Petra giggled right on cue. ‘Oh yeah sure, the Prince Charming act is a lot,’ Petra conceded, ‘but he’s a sweet boy really, and he’s saved your arse twice now.’
‘Twice?’
‘Well today and then the other day when he made those burgers for Milly and Brian.’ It took Sofia a moment to register what Petra was saying.
‘Wait, when, you mean after you...’ Sofia was embarrassed remembering that evening ‘...put me to bed.’
Petra nodded. ‘You didn’t think it was me or Declan who cooked for them, did you? I can barely fry an egg and I don’t think Declan would even know how to crack one.’
Maybe the Prince Charming act was not just a performance. He seemed to be making a habit of saving the day.
‘Oh, I didn’t know that,’ she said slowly.
Petra wagged her finger playfully. ‘You should never judge a book by its chiselled cheekbones, Sofia.’
‘Apparently not... anyway, this is me.’ They were standing outside her room.
‘Don’t get too comfortable. You have one hour and then we need to eat before we go out.’ Petra marched off down the corridor.
Sofia sat down on her bed. That morning felt like a million years ago. She peeled off her stewardess uniform and lay down, not meaning to fall asleep but only to rest her eyes for a moment or two.
Chapter Sixteen
Sofia woke up with a start, lying on top of her covers in her bra and pants. She checked her watch – only twenty minutes to make dinner. This job was relentless. She pulled on her chef’s whites and went to inspect her fridge. And there it was, the picnic hamper, sitting on the shelf, mocking her. Except, she thought, she could repurpose it for the crew’s dinner.
She had made far too much for two people anyway.
As everyone wandered into the mess and sat around the table, Sofia realised just how hungry she was. It was a quintessential British picnic spread, pork pies, finger sandwiches, sausage rolls, quiche, fruit salad, chocolate strawberries, all freshly made that very morning.
‘This looks amazing, as usual.’ Stuart began loading up his plate. ‘Are those Scotch eggs? What a treat.’
Sofia laughed as Petra picked one up and eyed it suspiciously.
‘It’s a boiled egg cased in sausage meat,’ Stuart explained.
‘You Brits are disgusting,’ she said, opting for a slice of quiche instead.
‘Agreed.’ Jack took a seat. ‘Thank goodness I didn’t have to force one down in front of our guests at lunchtime.’ He smirked at Sofia.
‘Am I missing something?’ Declan was loading his plate high.
‘This is the lunch that Sofia did not pack for the picnic today,’ Petra clarified.
‘Oh damn, it was an eventful day huh?’ Declan chuckled.
Sofia was embarrassed. It wasn’t like her to drop the ball like that at work; she prided herself on being a professional. ‘I hope Captain Mary wasn’t too disappointed about it.’ She looked over at Jack.
