‘That’s putting it mildly. I think this boat is cursed. The moment the captain made that rule, Cupid’s evil twin has been running rampant.’ She counted off on her fingers. ‘On this charter alone we’ve had you and Jack, you and Declan, me and Brian...’ She blushed as she said this but Sofia couldn’t help but interject.
‘You and Stuart!’
‘Well I’m not counting unrequited, undeclared crushes,’ Petra said firmly, as if the rules were obvious.
‘Well you’re counting Declan’s unrequited crush and I’m not sure you can dismiss a drunken kiss as “undeclared” anything, so...’ Sofia smiled devilishly, and Petra rolled her eyes.
‘Fine, Stuart and I,’ she conceded, with another finger. ‘I don’t know what your read is, but honestly whatever is going on with Patricio and Declan, that’s at least a half strike.’ She thrust her hand in the air emphatically. ‘Almost five infractions, and we’re only just over halfway through the charter.’
Sofia reflected on how little time had actually passed since she had met everyone, thirteen days to be precise, but already they felt like family, the dysfunctional sort that you argue with, sure, but also people she felt she could rely on.
Patricio popped his head round the door. ‘Petra, I’m just finishing up the guests’ suite and I’m a little worried. I think I’ve found more...’ He stopped short when he saw Sofia, and she was surprised to see his eyes turn cold.
‘Oh, hello, Sofia. I didn’t realise you were here.’ There was a definite hardness to his voice, which was all the more disconcerting coming from him.
‘I’m just killing some time until dinner – nothing to do with the guests out for lunch!’ she said cheerily.
Patricio pursed his lips. ‘Nothing to do foryouperhaps,’ he said snootily, before flouncing out of the room.
Sofia turned to Petra, whose eyebrows were as raised as Sofia’s own.
‘Well, that was...’ Petra began.
‘... passive-aggressive to the extreme? OK I’m glad I’m not imagining it.’ Sofia was baffled.
‘Well that just confirms my suspicions,’ Petra said with a knowing look.
Sofia was a beat behind.
‘Isn’t it obvious?’ Petra continued, but Sofia looked blank. ‘He’s jealous. He’s obviously mad about Declan, and after last night he knows that you’re his love rival.’
‘Love rival? Isn’t that a little overly dramatic?’ Sofia wasn’t convinced.
‘Have you met Patricio?’
‘Just when I put out one fire,’ Sofia huffed, exasperated, ‘ten more pop up to replace it.’
‘Funny that! It’s almost like somebody should make a rule to avoid all this unnecessary competition and tension.’
Sofia had to laugh. It was all so absurd, but if she didn’t laugh, she might cry. ‘So do you think I’ll have to challenge him to a duel or something, to restore his honour?’ Sofia was joking, but at this point it didn’t even feel completely out of the realms of possibility; maybe it was a yachtie tradition she just hadn’t heard of yet.
‘I reckon a couple of sweet treats and the passing of time will do the trick,’ Petra mused.
‘Yes, because that worked so well with Declan,’ Sofia muttered under her breath. ‘Anyway I better go. It’s about time to start prepping, and I can leave you to your perfectly pressed pillowcases.’
‘See you later.’ Petra blew Sofia a kiss as she walked out.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Sofia was in the kitchen, slicing wafer-thin lengths of courgette when her radio cracked to life. She jumped, as she was prone to doing, and the knife slipped into her finger. The pain was instant and sharp. She instinctively brought it to her mouth, swearing quietly out of the corner of her lips. She found a plaster and grabbed the radio.
‘Chef Harlow? Emergency meeting in the mess now, over.’ It was Jack’s voice, but unfamiliar, distant and steely, like it had been on that first day when he had withdrawn into himself.
‘On my way, over,’ she said stonily. Two could play at that game.
She wondered when she might have an uneventful day on this boat. How could they be facing yet another ‘emergency’. Patricio was in full swing when she walked in.
‘It is not just in the wardrobe. When I pulled the bed back this morning, well firstly it was clear it had not been cleaned back there for a long time.’ He shot a look at Petra as he said it. He seemed to be in a generally bitchy mood then, thought Sofia. Petra’s diagnosis of this morning’s incident might not be as accurate as she feared.
