Vicky didn’t look at him this time, though it was clear he was trying to get her attention.
‘No, I cannot,’ she said simply.
‘OK, maybe you could explain what you mean by boundaries?’
But Vicky had already checked out. She shifted in her chair and uncrossed her arms. ‘I’ve actually got a lot to get on with – apologies.’ Without even acknowledging the question, she stood up.
‘Oh well, I’ve got a couple more—’
Vicky cut her off. ‘Sorry there’s not more time, good luck with your piece.’ Ore could only say ‘thanks’ to the door left swinging in Vicky’s wake. That must be a new record, thought Ore, she’d managedonequestion. Well, two if you counted the wasted ‘where are you from.’
She turned to Daniel, exasperated. She opened her mouth to say something, although she wasn’t totally sure what exactly.
He cut in first. ‘That went well.’ Usually Ore was good at detecting sarcasm, but the accent and his placid expression was throwing her off. Either way it niggled at her.
‘Really, Daniel? You think that went well?’ She sounded whiny, rather than the combo of unfazed but self-aware she was hoping for. She was surprised to see his brow furrow withconcern. Maybe he had been sincere. She realised that she couldn’t afford to not have him on side.
‘Sorry, Daniel, I didn’t mean to snap. I know you’re just trying to be helpful. It’s my job to get them talking after all.’ She looked down, feeling a surge of something familiar course through her body, one she had been blissfully free of since that email from Agatha. It was a tightening in her stomach and a faint sense that she was outside of herself. She would observe the crouching figure, braids falling over her face, eyes set on the linoleum, painted nails picking at each other, foot tapping softly but rhythmically. That’s when the refrain began, softly at first and then building into a din.You really thought you could do this? A couple of little online articles and you think you’re ready for a big scoop? You? A staff writer at theNew York Herald? There’s ambition and then there’s delusion.
The warmth of a hand on her shoulder pulled her back into her body, and the imposter syndrome chorus quietened, though it wasn’t silenced.
She looked up to find Daniel standing close to where she was seated, with his palm laid upon her shoulder, inches from his belly button. She could feel the small space between them like she could hear the loaded silence, and both felt unbearable.
She stood up, and Daniel took an unsteady step backwards, his wayward hand finding refuge in his pocket.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to … I don’t know what …’ Daniel began. Ore had her own fumbling to do, so they spoke over each other.
‘I better be going. I didn’t want to …’ She reached for her notepad, which was embarrassingly empty. They both giggled nervously as Ore turned back to Daniel.
Another silence. Ore felt the agony of guessing at his thoughts.He knows you’re a fraud now.She shook her head instinctively.
‘Are you OK?’ The concern in his voice, like his hand on her shoulder, only added to her sense of shame so she plastered on a smile.
‘Sure, just going to head back to my cabin for a little bit, regroup; maybe I can meet you later and we can try and talk to Ollie?’ She only needed to get out of this room and then she could be alone and give that snarling voice a talking-to, like she had before.
Ore was already marching to the door when Daniel replied: ‘Shall we say three o’clock?’
‘Great.’ Ore was breathless. With one hand opening the door, she swung herself round and witnessed herself in another out-of-body experience, lifting her other hand to her forehead in a salute and saying the words: ‘Catch you later, Captain.’
