‘So now they just, like, get all the food?’
‘Honestly, Dec, I have no idea. I feel like this job is just one steep-as-hell learning curve, I’m trying to learn to ride the wave.’ Sofia smiled, as a flash of the conversation with Jack on the beach came back to her. ‘Learn to live a little, you know?’
When she looked up Declan was staring at her intently. There was a sudden heaviness between them. She felt her stomach drop, racking her brains for something else to say before he filled the silence. He opened his mouth, and she knew she’d lost the battle.
‘Sofia, listen, there’s something I feel like I need to say.’ He looked down at his hands, and she felt for him, his sparse stubble barely struggling over his chin. ‘I like you, man, like I really like you.’ When he looked back up his eyes were soft and warm. She felt the urge to pinch his cheek.
‘Dec... I think you’re great, really, but I don’t feel that way about you. I’m sorry.’ The words hung between them, his gushing, hers tender, both a little clichéd.
Declan seemed to be doing some mental gymnastics, his brow furrowed. Finally, he said, with a cheeriness that was almost imperceptibly forced, ‘That’s OK. I just wanted to get it off my chest, better out than in as they say.’ Another eternity ticked past. Sofia reached out her hand and laid it over Declan’s. She tried to give it a squeeze but he gently pulled it away.
Sofia remembered how mortified she had felt in his position, standing beside Simon in the cold. Although the rejection she had faced had been far more brutal, she knew how much courage it took to put yourself out there. She also knew that sometimes being shot down was a necessarily battle-hardening part of falling for people. She hoped that she had been as gracious as she could be and treated him with the kindness she would have once appreciated. Sofia understood that he would need time to lick his wounds. It was just a shame that the first twenty minutes of that time would be sitting next to her in this hot car park.
She decided to take advantage of the time, and signal, to check on Milly’s Instagram page. Judging by the last post, which included a snap of the infamous leather Speedos and aquamarine cave pool, and the hashtag #blessed and #livingladulcevida, she assumed that Brian and his foot were in good health.
Sofia checked the time, silently stood up and walked to the window in the wall. The woman looked up briefly and then cranked her head to the left. At another hole in the wall a few yards away, a man who looked like he was barely out of his teens was standing with a trolley loaded with sealed Styrofoam crates.
‘Declan!’ They had to communicate at some point. ‘I’m going to need a hand.’ She tried what she thought was a friendly but firm tone.
He ambled over and they waited for their lift back to the marina. Sofia tried to think of something to say, but she’d never been good at filling awkward silences, so she went back to her phone. The day was steadily sliding from bad to worse. As they sat in the back of the car, Sofia was glad for the cheery Italian radio host, and when they got out and Declan began wheeling the trolley wordlessly toward the boat, she missed him.
***
On board, they continued their wordless caravan to the kitchen. Sofia couldn’t stand it anymore, and as they unloaded the boxes she blurted out, ‘I mean it’s not like even if I did think of you that way anything could happen – the captain has that rule about no couples.’
Declan was startled for a moment by the sudden abandonment of their wordless pact, and then he just looked confused. ‘What rule? That doesn’t make any sense. I thought...’ He trailed off nervously.
‘You thought what?’ Sofia was reaching the end of her patience.
‘Well Jack and Petra hooked up last charter and they’re both still here so...’ His tone had descended into petulance and Sofia was reminded how young he was.
After that first thought came a second, more unpleasant one – that Petra had lied to her. Admittedly through omission, but still she thought they were getting close. On top of that it was Jack.
Suddenly Petra’s teasing about Sofia and Jack was retrospectively thrown under a different light. Was Petra jealous about some misperceived dynamic between her and Jack? Or was she just playing with Sofia, indulging in some high school scheming to get Sofia to think she had a chance, only for it to be revealed that Petra herself and Jack were an item all along? And then all those comments about what a ‘sweet guy’ he was. Sofia felt bewildered.
Declan cleared his throat emphatically. Sofia had been standing in a stupor for just a couple of moments too long.
Cautiously, he asked, ‘Are you good, Sofia?’ His voice broke her through the surface, out of the sea of choppy thoughts.
She shook her head instinctively, and then caught herself. ‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ she mumbled unconvincingly.
Declan looked awkward, like he knew what he had said had hit a nerve but wasn’t sure which, or why. ‘I’m going to head out. Will you be OK with all this?’
She didn’t know if he was talking about the half dozen crates or the unexpected flood of feeling, both of which would need to be unpacked.
‘Yes,’ she said firmly and hoped it was true.
Alone in the kitchen, Sofia unloaded the crates and arranged her fridge in a frenzy. Something about organising the fresh produce calmed her frazzled mind. She took time to focus on the depth of the colour of an aubergine, stroke the fronds of a fennel bulb, and smell the stalk of a ripe tomato. Focusing on flavour for a moment helped her reconnect with her senses. She stood up and leant against the counter, taking a deep breath. She would not let herself fall into panic.
What had happened at Nakachwa was not somehow doomed to happen again; she had learnt from that experience. This time she would go directly to Petra, talk it out. She knew now that bottling things up only fermented them into something toxic. She would not let a man be the reason she messed up her friendships, or her career – not this time.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sofia resolved to find Petra after dinner. Brian and Milly were due back any minute and she and Petra would both be busy until food had been served and eaten. Sofia couldn’t let herself think about how tired she was. She had known that she was signing up for an intense job but she had to admit that she hadn’t been worked this hard in a Michelin-star restaurant. She prepped and cooked and plated, radioing in for service and holding her breath in anticipation of Petra’s arrival. She was trying out her best ‘everything is normal’ smile when the door swung open to reveal a strikingly pretty man wearing the steward uniform. He was slight, olive-skinned, with thick dark curly hair that was perfectly styled. Sofia noticed that his fingernails were painted with clear polish when he picked up the plates.
‘Hi, I’m Patricio, sorry for the rushed introduction. I promise I will say hello properly after service.’ Sofia was pretty sure she could detect a trace of an Italian accent, but only just. When he flashed her a smile on the way out, his teeth were startlingly white.
The whole meeting was so quick that Sofia barely had time to say, ‘Sofia, it’s a pleasure,’ before the kitchen door swung closed. He was certainly efficient. Petra and Patricio seemed destined to make a great team.
