Chapter 47
Ore
Ore had spent the day trying to relax, which was no mean feat when she had her career, her love life and her sense of self to re-examine. She’d been a little disturbed by how seductive Chuck’s offer had been to her. How quickly she’d spent that money in her head. Daniel hadn’t even considered it, even though a ‘bonus’ from an employer would be far more legitimate than … well whatever her money was for: saving Mel? It didn’t really make sense, but then Chuck’s motivations were often nonsensical, to Ore anyway. Even his decision to invite her here in the first place had never made any sense to her.
After a couple of hours by the pool, where she was completely undisturbed except for the fifteen minutes that Oscar spent cleaning it, she’d gone to the gym. Then the library, which was filled with the sort of leather-bound books that seemed more like set dressing than actual reading material. She’d bumped into one of the investors at the bar – Gerry was it? Or Roger? They’d exchanged pleasantries about the weather and then he’d excused himself to take a phone call, large gin and tonic still in hand. If she was being honest with herself, Ore felt directionless, and bored. She was almost lookingforward to the excursion, even if it did mean dosing up on Kwells.
By the time dinner rolled around, Ore had been sitting in bed catching up on that incomprehensible reality TV show that had sucked her in for a few hours. Right on time at 6 p.m., Carlos called to ask her where she’d be eating.
‘Un autre diner au lit?’
‘Carlos, I’m ashamed to say, five years of learning French at school and none of it has stuck. For the monolingual, English please …?’
‘Dinner in bed again, mademoiselle?’
‘I don’t appreciate the “again”,’ Ore scolded him, ‘but yes please, and I don’t always eat it in bed, sometimes I sit at my desk,’ she added quietly.
Carlos tutted. ‘You and Captain Wilsons, two peas in a pod, always working, always on your own. Why don’t you come to the crew dinner? I believe he might come …’ Carlos’ voice had taken on a theatrically nonchalant tone.
For Ore it was settled, she definitely wouldn’t be going to dinner now. ‘Does Daniel not usually eat with the crew?’ Ore asked, always curious to know more about him.
‘Almost never! You know how he is, very withdrawn, not very chatty, keeps himself to himself.’
‘That’s not been my experience …’ Ore muttered, speaking as if to herself, but Carlos was all ears.
‘Aha! As I suspected, you are the sunshine to his morning bloom then. It is only for you that he is his most beautiful self.’
Ore giggled. Carlos was certainly a welcome course of levity in her day and as clichéd as it was, his accent did makeeverything sound even more poetic. She wondered if her and Daniel’s attraction to each other was embarrassingly obvious or if Carlos was just particularly perceptive. She didn’t have the energy to deny it, and it felt harmless, fun, not like when Chuck made uncomfortable remarks about her and Daniel. Then again maybe it was just always better received from someone who wasn’t white.
‘I’m not sure about that, Carlos; I don’t think Daniel is my biggest fan right at this moment.’
‘Oh non! Pour quoi!’Carlos sounded so dismayed that Ore was taken aback, though she wasn’t sure what he’d said. Thankfully he clarified: ‘Why? Ore, what happened?’
Ore sighed. She wasn’t sure that Carlos was the right person to bare her soul to, but after a week of isolation from her friends and family, she needed someone to confide in.
‘I’m not sure. We had a …’ She wasn’t sure how to put this. It was one thing talking about a make-out session with a girlfriend; it was another with a relative stranger, and a man nearing his forties, albeit a very friendly one. ‘A moment, yesterday actually, and then he sort of ran away. I tried talking to him about it and he got upset and said there was no point because I’d be leaving soon … which is also a fair point.’
There was silence on the end of the phone line. Ore felt a flush trickle up her cheeks. ‘Sorry I don’t know why I said all that. It’s really not your problem at …’
Carlos cut her off. ‘No, no I am just thinking about what you’re telling me.’
Ore waited as he pondered.
‘I think that he is a man who has for a long time not felthis feelings, and he is not sure what to do with them now he feels them.’ Ore didn’t have the heart to tell him that this insight was not particularly revelatory to her.
‘And I think that you are both too young to worry so much about the future. Take it from me, this kind of connection does not come around very often, so when it does, you should try and embrace it, even if it is fleeting. Take the time to admire the full beauty of the fish before you throw it back in the ocean.’
Ore had no idea what the fish metaphor was about, but she understood the general message. They were both so worried about the fallout that they couldn’t seem to enjoy the moment. It just was such high stakes when real feelings were involved.
‘Definitely something to think about. Thank you, Carlos …’ Ore’s belly rumbled, demanding a change of topic. ‘Could I get something a bit stodgy, comforting, pasta maybe?’
Carlos scoffed. ‘What is this stodgy? It sounds very English; it sounds like the sort of food I do not make. I will send over a beef Bourguignon.’
‘Sure.’ Ore laughed. ‘Sounds great, and … Thanks, Carlos.’
‘No problem, it is my pleasure to see the lovebirds fly towards each other,’ and without another word he was gone.
Ore decided that she would prep some questions for Mel and Chuck, whilst she waited for the food. She’d started a new notebook, and banished her pile of mad ramblings to the very bottom of her suitcase. When the light knock came, Nicole handed over her plate without a word, and Ore was grateful not to have to engage in small talk.
She must have been exhausted because when the sound of the choppers woke her up, the lights and TV were still on. She found herself wondering who was flying in or out at this time of night as she drifted back into sleep.
