Sofia studied his profile, the strong line of his nose, and those eyes of his, suddenly something like amber in the light, and deep with sorrow.
‘Something about the dawn, between the night and the day, I can feel her in the air. She always loved to get up with the sun,’ he continued softly. ‘I guess in that way it’s not really alone time I’m looking for.’ He turned and looked straight at Sofia. A shiver fizzed down her spine. ‘Maybe I’m looking for company.’
There it was, that urge to reach out, to take him in her arms. Then she remembered, she was probably the last person he would want to be comforted by. She stood with her arms clamped to her sides, waiting for the impulse to die down.
‘Well I’ll leave you to it. Three’s a crowd as they say.’ It was a pathetic response really but she needed to get out of there. It was all too intense. He looked back out to the waves. She was finding it hard to understand what role she could play in the theatre of his grief. She felt like whatever she said, she was messing up her lines.
‘I’m sorry.’ She tried to look sympathetic and then worried that she was giving him the look of pity he so hated, but he wasn’t paying attention to her anyway.
‘Thanks. I’ll see you at breakfast,’ he said absent-mindedly, cycling through a well-worn script of his own.
She gave him a limp pat on the shoulder and he smiled weakly. As she walked back to the cabin she wondered if he was in the habit of opening up to people who he found ‘judgemental’. Every conversation she had with him left her feeling more confused about how he felt about her.
The rest of the day went smoothly, or as smoothly as any day on this boat could go. There was only one crisis to be averted, when Milly misplaced her Fendi sunglasses.
‘I need them for a promo post.’ She wailed as Sofia served up an afternoon snack: an elaborate fruit medley, piled high on a tiered crystal stand. Petra was topping up their wine glasses with yet more champagne. They were all on the second deck.
‘They won’t pay me unless I have them on my grid by the end of the day.’ It was directed at Brian, but he seemed engrossed in his book, a crime novel by the looks of the dark grey and black cover, embossed with the silhouette of a gun.
‘Brian, are you even listening?’ She was pouting, a child demanding a parent’s attention.
Brian put down the book with a sigh. ‘I have no idea, baby, maybe Petra will have seen them, when she was clearing out the old room?’ He looked over at Petra who was standing to attention holding the bottle, with a white tea towel draped over her arm.
Sofia knew that Petra had been avoiding talking directly to Brian. After her close call with the captain she didn’t want to give Milly any reason to tell on her again.
She avoided looking at Brian as she said, ‘I’m sorry, I haven’t seen them, but I will go and have a look if you’d like?’ This was directed at Milly.
‘Sure, that’d be great. I doubt you’ll be able to find them though.’ Milly was scowling as she said this. Sofia was glad to retreat alongside Petra as they left the couple on deck. The mood was far from friendly.
‘What is that bitch’s problem?’ Petra fumed as they trotted down the stairs.
‘Easy, tiger, that Fendi endorsement might be our tip. It’s in everyone’s interest that they are located immediately,’ Sofia teased.
Petra grimaced. ‘Somehow I doubt she’ll be leaving me anything. She’ll probably ask the captain to dock my wages at this rate.’
It turned out that Milly’s bad feelings towards Petra could be fixed as quickly and inexplicably as they were prompted. On presenting her with the missing Fendi glasses, which had been ‘hidden’ on the bedside table, Milly beamed and gave Petra a big hug.
‘It was completely bizarre,’ Petra recounted as Sofia prepped for dinner that evening. ‘And then she started asking me about my skin routine! I don’t know what happens to people on reality TV shows, but it must be messing up some kind of brain chemistry right? Being watched and judged all the time must make you paranoid that everyone is out to get you, I reckon.’
Sofia shrugged. ‘Honestly, who knows – as far as I’m concerned everyone on this boat is crazy.’
Petra raised an eyebrow. ‘So how is it going with Captain Jack then?’
Sofia wasn’t sure she was ready to reveal the depths of her inner turmoil. ‘Fine, we barely cross paths really. He comes in after I go to sleep and he’s up before I wake up... well so far anyway. Let’s see.’
Petra wasn’t satisfied by the diplomatic response but she let it go. ‘Mmmhhmm,’ was all she said.
After guests and crew had eaten, and after Captain Mary had excused herself, Stuart passed the whisky around. Sofia needed to unwind so she accepted a glass.
‘You seem to have an endless supply of this stuff,’ Jack noted. Stuart tapped the side of his nose.
‘A sailor never reveals his sources.’ He chuckled.
Just then Jack’s phone rang. He checked the number, excusing himself hurriedly. He looked flustered, like he had that morning after Capri. Sofia found herself desperate to know who was calling. Why was she so curious to know what was going on with him?
After an hour or so she decided it was time for bed. As she walked out she noticed that Petra had slid into the seat closer to Stuart, and Declan and Patricio were also looking cosy. Maybe it was Captain’s Mary’s rule working its magic; people always seemed to want what they knew they couldn’t have.
As she approached the cabin door she could hear Jack’s voice. He sounded anxious.
