She set about making the main course, sirloin steaks cooked to a blasphemous ‘well done’ and chips. Since she had devised the new menu she had come to realise that the chef in her would need to coexist with the cook if she was going to make it in yachting. Being a cook was about comforting people, occasionally expanding their palettes, but ultimately it was caregiving, feeding people who wanted to eat rather than savour or ‘experience’ food.
That being said, she would be sure to triple-fry the chips and sneak some anchovy paste into the garlic butter sauce. If they were going for meat and two veg, she was going to make sure it was the tastiest version of it they’d ever tried.
Patricio was back, and then after a well-choreographed exchange he was gone again. Two clean plates where two full plates had just been. One more round for dessert and then they were done. Sofia was wiping down her countertops when Patricio came back with the bowls where the raspberry cheesecake had sat.
‘Mama mia!’ he exclaimed, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. Before Sofia had a chance to verbalise what she was thinking, he answered her question. ‘No don’t worry I’m notthatItalian.’ Sofia laughed. She was grateful to be having a conversation that was not loaded with some sort of hangover-induced tension.
‘What a shame, I could do with some practice,’ Sofia said jokingly, although Patricio seemed to have missed the edge of humour.
‘Ah,stai imparando l’italiano?’ he replied, and his cheerful earnestness reminded her of Declan, before she had broken his heart.
She blushed, embarrassed by just how little she understood of what he was saying. ‘Oh no I, I was joking. My Italian is terrible.’
‘Terribile!’ he corrected.
‘Terribile,’ Sofia repeated awkwardly. ‘Well anyway, we are very glad to have you. You certainly know what you’re doing. Have you been yachting for a long time?’
‘No, it is my first time on a boat. I’m a virgin, in that sense at least.’ He gave her a theatrical wink and she giggled. ‘I used to work for the Alexandrea. It’s the fancy hotel just down on the south coast of Capri.’
‘Ah, so that’s where you get your impeccable waitering skills. Petra will be thrilled.’ For a man who seemed so comfortable in his own skin, she was surprised by how awkwardly he received the compliment.
‘Thank you, Sofia,’ he said softly, looking down at his hands and smiling to himself.
‘Well I’m afraid I am the one who has to rush off now. I need to speak with someone. I will see you for crew dinner in an hour?’
‘Looking forward to meeting everyone properly,’ he said eagerly.
Sofia smiled. ‘Yes they’re quite a bunch of characters.’
She headed back to her cabin and tried to radio Petra, but the walkie-talkie came back with only a white-noise buzz. Sofia was afraid that if she lost her nerve she might end up not saying anything and holding on to the kernel of resentment until it flowered into something even uglier.
She wandered around the boat for the next half an hour, poking her head into cupboards, utility rooms, even the top deck, but Petra was nowhere to be found. She came across Milly who was sitting in the main saloon drinking a cup of tea and, to nobody’s surprise, scrolling through her Instagram.
‘Oh sorry to disturb,’ Sofia said apologetically. Milly was so in the zone that she hadn’t noticed Sofia come in but when she looked up she offered a weary smile.
‘That’s OK, I’m not really up to much anyway.’ She seemed deflated, and Sofia fought the urge to ask what was wrong. She didn’t have time for this, but Milly seemed to be willing her to ask.
‘How are you doing? Has Brian recovered?’ Milly sat up and patted the space next to her. Slightly reluctantly, Sofia took a seat.
‘He’s gone to bed early. I think the past two days have been pretty exhausting.’
Sofia couldn’t agree more, she had never longed to ‘go to bed early’ more than she did at that moment.
‘It was scary, seeing him hurt like that.’ That steely look Milly had had on the boat flashed across her face quickly and then her expression melted into something softer. When she looked over at Sofia, she had tears in her eyes. ‘But, like, in a way, it was nice to feel close to him. Is it weird to say that the evening in the hospital was one of my favourite of the trip so far?’
Sofia looked around the room, at the excess of luxury adorning every visible surface. She chuckled warmly. ‘A little,’ she said.
Milly looked embarrassed. ‘Oh no I mean you guys have been great... well most of you. I just meant like it was nice to have some proper time alone. Obviously I’m super blessed to be able to be here.’ The influencer sheen of unrelenting optimism had returned to her voice as she said this last part, culminating in a bright but slightly unconvincing smile.
But Sofia couldn’t let one thing slip. ‘Most of us?’ She tried to keep her tone light and curious.
Milly rolled her eyes, leaning in conspiratorially, whispering as if they might be overheard in the large and empty room they were sitting in.
‘I actually had to have a word with the captain this evening. Usually she has to serve the food as well, but tonight she was just on drinks and it was unbearable. The way she drools over Brian, it’s totally unacceptable!’ Milly’s voice had built resolutely out of a whisper. ‘Honestly if that’s what she’s like when I’m in the room, I’d hate to imagine what goes on when I’m not there to keep an eye on things.’
Sofia had had just about enough ofsinking feelingsfor one day, but here was another wave. ‘You’re talking about Petra, right?’ she asked reticently.
Milly huffed, arms folded. ‘Who else?’
