All he knew was that he wasn’t in the mood to play chaperone again today, but he didn’t really have a choice.
‘I told her to come find you in your quarters. Dudley will take over at noon.’
It really was Vicky running the ship, thought Daniel. Wasn’t he supposed to be in charge? The question was obviously written all over his face because Vicky added, ‘Don’t give me that look, Captain. I’m not trying to undermine you; I’m just trying to make sure we all get the stinking fat tip we deserve.My retirement villa in the south of France is not going to buy itself after all!’
It was strange to imagine Vicky retiring, not just because she could only have been forty years old at the maximum, but also because she was always ten steps ahead of everyone. Daniel couldn’t imagine her ever just stopping. As if to prove his point, she got to her feet and was out of the room, flanked by Nicole and Amanda, before he’d finished chewing his mouthful.
Daniel spent the morning in the wheelhouse flinching at every creak of a floorboard, imagining Ore standing on the other side of the door and feeling both thrilled and horribly anxious at the prospect. He tried to remember himself before he met Ore, which was only four days ago. That version of him – detached, cool, rational and level-headed – seemed totally out of reach to this version of him.
The moment he had stilled himself into something resembling calm, he heard her outside the door. He found himself drawn to the sound of her voice, and despite himself, trying to concentrate on what she was saying. Here again, she was having a strange effect on him: Daniel, the man who hates gossip, eavesdropping on a private conversation.
‘I’ve had some luck. It’s just really hard to get people to open up.’ She must have been on the phone, because Daniel couldn’t hear any replies.
‘No I totally get that, Henry … yeah I know, but I’m almost there, just on the brink, I can feel it.’ She sounded stressed, and Daniel found himself resenting whoever this Henry guy was.
‘No no, yeah yeah, profile I get it. I’m not trying to break anything … It’s just that there’s definitely something … NoI hear you. You’re right. OK thanks, Henry, I’ll try and get you something by end of day tomorrow, a first draft at least.’
A long pause and then: ‘OK, bye, speak soon.’
He heard her let out a long sigh, and concluded Henry must be her editor. In a way Daniel found it hard to imagine anyone being Ore’s boss. She seemed a person who never answered to anyone.
She knocked on the door and he made a point of walking over slowly to open it. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but Ore’s pleasant, easy smile disarmed him.
‘Hello, Daniel,’ she chirped breezily, her white, straight teeth, dazzling. She had to be faking this nonchalance, he thought, and she was disturbingly good at it.
‘Oh, um, hello, Ore. Let me just get my jacket and we can go and find Carlos.’ Daniel tried to match her bright tone.
‘Great,’ she said, flicking through her notebook. The only hint of any inner turmoil was her slightly ragged cuticles.
On the walk to the kitchen, they didn’t speak. Ore strode slightly ahead, and Daniel wondered when she’d become so confident navigating the boat.
Carlos was perched on the counter top with a pencil in one hand and a cookbook in the other, a deep frown furrowing his brow.
‘Is this a good time?’ Ore asked when he didn’t acknowledge their presence in the kitchen. He looked irritated for a moment and then flashed a big smile.
‘Ore, yes of course, mademoiselle, let us have the interview!’
Carlos bundled them through the long narrow kitchen and through a swinging door. His ‘office’ was a tiny space, barely big enough for the two chairs and small desk crammed intoit. Carlos gestured for Ore to take a seat, and Daniel wedged himself into the only available corner as Carlos took the other seat.
‘I had heard about the chaperone from the others, but this is a little bit imposing, no?’ Carlos pointed at Daniel as he spoke, and Ore laughed. It sounded a little too high-pitched.
‘Yes, and remember he’s a spy too!’ Then it was Carlos’ turn to laugh, but Daniel knew she wasn’t joking. That it was meant for him to hear, to know that she knew.
As Ore opened her notebook, Daniel felt hot, and extremely claustrophobic.
