‘I think she was a little...’ Sofia chose her words tactfully; she didn’t want to betray her friend’s trust, but sometimes it was important to share the facts with the relevant parties ‘...disappointed, when you were chatting with that girl all night in Gaeta.’
Sofia watched as the cogs began to whir behind Stuart’s eyes. ‘I didn’t think...’ he muttered to himself and then seemed to remember he had company.
‘If I’m correctly inferring what you’re trying to say, Sofia, then I guess I’m in trouble as well.’ His face was placid as he said this. Sofia marvelled at his ability to keep everything below the surface. No wonder it had taken Petra so long to peel back the layers.
‘There’s no room for romance on this boat.’ His voice cracked as he said ‘romance’, so he wasn’t completely immune to the force of emotion.
‘Honestly, as I get older, I wonder what I’m still doing here. If I wantthatkind of life for myself, a life with love and family, I need to stop clinging on to a young man’s dream.’ He sighed, sounding weary.
Sofia realised she had no idea how old Stuart was. His full head of startlingly blonde hair made his age hard to place. He could have been thirty or nearing fifty. There seemed to be nothing else to say, and so neither of them spoke. Sofia wondered what Stuart might do with the information she had passed on. She suddenly felt stressed that Petra might have to face down a declaration of love of her own. From her recent experience, she wouldn’t wish it on her worst enemy.
‘Maybe you’re right,’ Sofia said at last, ‘maybe it’s best not to complicate things.’ She hoped she might dissuade Stuart from doing anything dramatic, although he didn’t seem like the dramatic type.
‘Best not to complicate things,’ he repeated back at her, like a man committing himself to a mantra.
She checked the time. She probably didn’t need to start breakfast for another half an hour, but she was beginning to feel like she needed an out. ‘I’m going to head down to prep,’ she said brightly, to which Stuart only nodded vacantly in agreement. She left him there, the sun rising into the sky behind him, lost in his thoughts. She wished him a pleasant journey and that he might find his way back with a little clarity.
***
Back in the kitchen, she tried something new – French toast with mascarpone and a cherry compote. It took her a little longer than expected and when Patricio came in to collect the food, she was only just plating it up.
He stood with his arms folded. She could feel disdain radiating off him – it was putting her off.
‘Everything OK today, Patricio?’ she asked, carefully spooning a blob of deep crimson stewed cherry on top of the creamy cheese.
‘Perfectly OK, thank you,’ he said, his voice clipped. ‘The guests are just very hungry.’ Sofia tried to keep her cool. She wasn’t enjoying the attitude but she had no energy for a fight. She was trying to preserve it for the day ahead.
She leant back, pushing the plates across the counter. ‘All ready for you.’
‘Grazie,’ he said as the door swung shut behind him.
Sofia fought the urge to stick her tongue out, and then decided to do it anyway. Something about the release of that childish impulse calmed her. She chuckled to, and at, herself as she went about getting the crew breakfast ready, which would be left behind. Next it was onto the picnic lunch, which she immediately took up to the deck, placing it by the tender. She doubted Jack would surprise her with his forgiveness a second time around.
Back in her cabin, Petra had left a neatly ironed stewardess uniform. Sofia had hoped she might get away with just wearing casuals today, but this was a clear sign that that was not an option.
This one at least was not that awful shade of maroon; instead it was a chocolate brown, with a white trim around the bottom of the skort and around the arms. At the last minute she remembered to slip on a plain black bikini underneath, just in case she managed to muster up the courage to dive in herself. She let her hair down and thought it looked quite nice, for a day-three wash. She clipped back the front to keep it out of her eyes. Eyeing herself in the mirror she had that same thought that she looked like she was about to play in a school sports team. She was not, however, about to lump Petra with another ironing job.
She fiddled with her hair for a while, becoming aware that she was trying to stall. There was only one way to get through the day and that was to get on with it. She tried on her best ‘hello, friend and colleague’ smile. She was no great actress but it was convincing enough. She might have spent most of her life in the kitchen but she had always understood the tenets of the service industry: absolutely no one you are serving is interested in how miserable your life is. It is your job to make them forget you even have a life.
Chapter Forty-One
Sofia saw Jack before he saw her, and somehow she felt like that gave her a head start. He would be the one caught off guard, and so she might be able to set the tone.
‘Aye aye, Captain, reporting for duty.’ She found herself saluting, the cringe registering both too soon for her to pull off the levity, and too late to stop. Her hand drifted back down to her side awkwardly. ‘I’m not sure why I said that,’ she said flatly. Jack’s look of bemusement irritated her slightly, but then again how else could he be expected to respond to the mortifying display he had just witnessed?
‘Well that makes two of us.’ He smirked at her, but she also caught a flash of him eyeing her up. ‘I see you remembered lunch this time and I have the scuba gear, so hopefully we can keep the improvisation to a minimum.’
It was strange. Sofia felt like she had stepped back in time. He was speaking to her with that same patronising tone he had used the first time they had been out together. It was as if that night had never happened.
She had to remind herself that that washerplan. ‘Friends,’ she had said. She supposed that the last day out must have been the closest they had ever come to ‘friends’ just before it had tipped over intosomething else, for her at least.
‘Well that is a shame isn’t it. You do so like to save the day – it’s hard when everything goes to plan.’ Sofia’s tone dripped with sarcasm.
Jack smiled, genuinely this time. ‘Ah yes, that’s more like it,’ he said with a level of enthusiasm that felt mocking. ‘Come on, Harlow, I need a hand getting her in the water.’ He handed her a rope and she held it limply.
‘I don’t really do this kind of boat stuff. What am I supposed to do with it?’ She held it up gingerly, looking bewildered.
‘Harlow, you can’t be caught saying things like “I don’t do boats” out loud. If the captain hears you, she’ll have you walk the plank. She’s a big believer in “all hands on deck” being literal.’
