Chapter 69
Daniel
Daniel had watched Ore pull her case along the marina from the wheelhouse and he’d felt numb.
He hadn’t been able to sleep after Ore had left his room the night before. For the first few hours he had gone back and forth, wondering if he should run after her, explain everything. But what would have been the use? She wouldn’t have cowed at Chuck’s threat, and besides, whether she left the boat believing him to be ‘the bad guy’ or not, she would still be leaving. And it was sort of easier in a way, knowing that she hated him. That was something he could bury and add to his list of reasons why he should have ‘stuck to the plan’ and ‘not gotten involved in the drama’.
And so instead of going after her he headed upstairs, to take up his post and remind himself that before everything else, he was a captain.
He stayed holed away in his sanctuary of the wheelhouse all day, watching as each guest filed off theThalassaover the course of the day. Mel was the next to leave after Ore, with Oscar in tow to help with her caravan of monogrammed luggage. She was wearing sunglasses and large headphonesunder her hoodie, and almost leapt into the waiting taxi, so eager, it seemed, was she to get back to her ‘normal life’.
The trail of investors disembarked in pairs, fully kitted out in their loafers, chinos, quarter zips, mobile phones pinned to their ears. Finally Daniel watched as Claude and Chuck, followed a few steps behind by Agatha, stepped off the gangway and back into the world. They were deep in conversation as they marched across the dock. Daniel dreaded to think what destructive plot they were engineering next.
Down below him, he knew the rest of the crew were hard at work, stripping beds, scrubbing floors, cleaning windows. They would remain on board for the rest of the day and then head down the coast to Wollongong to anchor theLady Thalassain the morning. As rich as Chuck was he was still too tight to pay Sydney’s docking fees.
As the sun went down, Daniel wondered if there was a way he could avoid the ‘party’. It was tradition, and one that he usually tried to get out of. He’d never understood why, after cleaning the boat all day, anyone would want to mess it up again and then repeat the process the following day on a hangover.
He did need to eat though, so reluctantly he headed down to the mess once all the paperwork was done. He would just grab a few bites and then make his excuses and head to bed. Inside, Carlos was laying down dishes piled high with Lebanese delights: baba ghanouj, tabbouleh, sfeeha, falafel and shawarma. There were colourful salads littered with pomegranate jewels and topped with glistening pickles. But despite the feast, the general mood was glum, nothing like the carnival likeatmosphere he had experienced on other charters on the last night. Vicky, Nicole and Amanda were all slouched over their phones; Oscar was picking at his cuticles.
‘Ahhh, Daniel, come come, I have made enough for a small army.’ Carlos smiled warmly and pulled out a chair for Daniel.
‘This looks amazing, Carlos, and so different from what you usually make,’ Daniel noted.
‘Well Mr Chuck likes to remind me that he hired a French chef … not a Lebanese one, but I am a multitude, as they say.’ Carlos chuckled and his joviality seemed to lull everyone else round the table out of their low spirits.
‘Thank you, Carlos,’ they chimed one by one as they helped themselves.
‘How was everyone’s day?’ Daniel heard himself say. He felt somewhat responsible for the low morale, it was customary for the captain to call his staff in for a congratulatory speech after the guests had disembarked. Daniel just hadn’t been able to work up the enthusiasm for it.
‘Busy,’ Vicky said bluntly, before spooning some couscous into her mouth.
‘Mr Regas’ guests were up very late last night, so we’re all a bit tired,’ Nicole explained.
‘Well I appreciate all your hard work. You’ve been an excellent team; it’s been my pleasure to work with you all,’ Daniel said stiffly. The reaction was muted, and he couldn’t blame them – he hardly believed himself.
Vicky gave him a withering look. ‘Well from what we’ve seen of you, Captain, it’s been an absolute blast.’ Amanda stifled a giggle and then a brittle silence descended over the table.
As usual it was Carlos who dared to break it. ‘So how was your goodbye with Miss Ore?’ he asked, turning to Daniel casually as though asking about the weather. Daniel spluttered in surprise. The others also looked up at Carlos, with a mix of intrigue and bemusement.
‘Um …’ Daniel’s immediate impulse was to reprimand Carlos, but he didn’t have the energy or the support of the crowd. ‘It was … we actually didn’t leave it on good terms to be honest, Carlos.’
Carlos’ face fell. ‘Oh no! What happened to my beautiful lovebirds?’ he said in dismay. Daniel wasn’t sure he could feel any more mortified, but after tomorrow he would most probably not see any of these people again, so he decided to be honest.
‘We had a disagreement. Ore has very strong … ideals, about what the right thing to do is, and I suggested that she might try and be more … practical in her choices.’ Daniel shrugged, avoiding eye contact with Vicky, whose gaze he could feel on the side of his face.
Carlos was shaking his head. ‘Is this about her journalism story? Because no one would talk to her on the record?’
Daniel was taken aback by Carlos’ utter lack of discretion. Vicky too seemed shocked.
‘What story is this?’ Amanda asked quietly. Daniel wasn’t sure he’d ever heard her speak before.
‘About Chuck and his bad ways,’ Carlos said matter-of-factly.
‘Carlos!’ Vicky reprimanded him.
‘Oh, Vicky, why do you keep defending this man? He is bad, and we all know it – you most of all!’ Vicky blushed, or fumed, it was hard to tell, but she fell silent.
‘So why would you not go on the record, Captain? I know our reasons – we all work for the man – but why not help Ore yourself?’ Carlos asked sincerely.
