“It’s the life-threatening situation. There’s no other explanation.”
I gasp. “So, what you’re saying is, youdothink we’re going to die?”
He only laughs, kissing the top of my head as we crash against another wave and the boat groans.
NineteenCruise Location – At SeaNext Port – TaorminaTime of Arrival – 10:00 (GMT+)
We arrive in Italy early the next morning, feeling somewhat battered and bruised.
Roko is animated when we disembark, insisting we listen to him, pointing at the port with instructions we don’t understand. I finally have the rather brilliant idea to employ a translation app. Who knew Roko was speaking Italian? He instructs us to go to the Guardia Costiera, who will apparently have us checked into the country before any onwards travel. Not doing so could have us arrested.
Good old, Roko.
He refuses our attempts to get his bank details so we can pay him, though Gus puts up an admirable fight. Instead, Roko offers rigorous handshakes to express how much he enjoyed our company. I find that hard to believe considering I spent most of the night wrapped around Gus, whimpering like a baby.
Once we’re away from the boat I can’t help but relish the fresh, salty air. It’s hard to work out whether the rotting stench of sardines is ingrained in my nostrils, or if it’s actually just coming from our clothing. I step closer to Gus,pulling his dark t-shirt towards my face and sniffing.
He scoffs. “Sara, is this you flirting?”
“Shut up. Youstink.”
“Nowthatis you flirting.”
I glare at him for several seconds, but the longer it goes on the wider his smile becomes.
“How are you smiling right now? Are you not in shock? Exhausted?”
He shrugs. “Honestly, I’m just happy to see the light of day and have my feet back on solid ground. There were moments last night when I didn’t think that was likely.”
“A-ha!” I say, “Iknewyou thought we were going to die.”
“Someone had to keep a cool composure.”
“Hey. I was fine!”
“I’m pretty sure there are fingerprint-sized bruises all over my neck and shoulders. You know, from where you clung on for dear life.”
“I will abandon you,” I say, pointing at him.
He only laughs.
I make a face, looking away to take in our surroundings. The water is calm again, the sky a perfect, innocent blue. You’d never know the weather here was capable of such calamity.
“I need a shower,” I say, “as do you. And we needanotherset of clean clothes, all before we plan our next steps.” I drop my arms, my shoulders sagging. We didn’t get any sleep last night as the boat fought its way through the storm. “I’m exhausted.”
He nods. “Yeah, but I’ve stayed awake longer.”
“Probably not sober,” I guess.
Gus nods, a notch forming between his brows. “Neversober. But before we do anything else, let’s get some coffee and breakfast.”
*
We claim a table at a quaint café on the edge of the older part of Bari, only a few strides from the port. Gus insists on ordering, keeping his sunglasses on inside, before returning to the table we picked outside with two strong coffees and a kind of brioche bun filled with cream.
“Apparently this is called a Maritozzo,” he tells me. “Oh, and you can charge your phone inside. There’s a plug behind the counter. I’m pretty sure the server knows who I am.”
I roll my eyes. “Paranoid much?”
