Love Overboard

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Once on the deck Sofia took a moment to gaze out at the ocean, as Declan enthusiastically greeted Captain Mary. The boundless ripples shimmered in the mid-morning sun, shooting out silver shards of light. Sofia let out a deep sigh. She already felt right at home.

‘Sofia, it’s nice to meet you in person.’ Captain Mary was a taller woman than Sofia had realised in their video interviews, with the kind of transatlantic accent that comes from a life on the move. She reached out her hand and shook Sofia’s firmly. It was hard to work out exactly how old she was, but Sofia reckoned somewhere between forty-five and sixty. The lines around her eyes had been resolutely carved by years of exposure to the sun and sea air, and by the need to meet each new rotation of unruly yachting crew with a friendly smile and an abundance of patience.

‘Captain Mary, it’s an honour to finally be aboard the Lady Ixchel. She really is a beauty,’ Sofia said honestly. Captain Mary glowed with pride at her praise.

‘She really is, even if I do say so myself. Let me give you and Declan a tour, before the rest of the crew arrives.’

‘Great, I’m really looking forward to getting familiar with my new kitchen.’

Captain Mary gave her a bemused look. ‘Perhaps you should wait until you see it before you get too excited.’ Her tone was flat and a little stern but there was a sparkle of humour in her eyes. ‘Follow me.’

Captain Mary led the pair into what she called the horizon lounge. Living up to its name, large square windows lined three sides of the room, offering a wealth of views in all directions. There were too many places to sit, Sofia thought. A chaise longue to her left, a dining table circled by ten chairs to her right; one, two, three sofas dotted around and a gathering of armchairs by the gold-veined marble bar. Everything was dark wood and the upholstery in various shades of green velvet.

‘Wow,’ was all Declan could say, as he slowly rotated on the spot, eyes wide.

‘So this is really Petra’s domain. She’s in charge of hospitality, which mostly includes making cocktails all day,’ Captain Mary explained. ‘I believe she sometimes extends that skill set to serve the crew... on special occasions.’

Declan leant in and whispered in Sofia’s ear, ‘For the legendary crew parties.’ He winked at her as Captain Mary continued explaining the hierarchy of the boat. At the top of the pyramid was Captain Mary herself. Then came Petra who was acting up in the combined role of purser and head stewardess; the head chef – that was Sofia; chief engineer – a man called Stuart; and the first officer. Below them was a second stewardess and a deckhand, the aptly named Declan, who would answer to each of their superiors respectively.

‘So you’ll be answering to Jack. It’ll be his first tour as first officer.’ This was directed at Declan, and Sofia thought she could detect a hint of pride in Captain Mary’s voice. ‘He should be here any minute.’ She looked at her watch and frowned. ‘Ten minutes late, not getting off to the best start are we, Jacky,’ she mumbled under her breath.

Next, they were taken down the stairs and shown the main saloon. More velvet, this time a deep blue; more polished wood; even more places to sit.

‘So how many guests will there be this time around?’ asked Declan.

Captain Mary shot him a look. ‘Well, as per the briefing document you should have received last week, we will be joined by Miss Amelia Cox and her partner Brian McGregor for this six-week leg of the season.’

‘Wait up, you mean Milly Cox, from The True Course of Love? No way!’

Captain Mary was trying to look disapproving. Declan had clearly not taken the time to read the carefully put together crew manual, but his enthusiasm was infectious. Sofia found herself chuckling softly.

‘Yes, Declan, the very one,’ the captain said dryly.

All this space, and all this staff, just for two people – it seemed a little excessive to Sofia, but then, she supposed, that was the point.

‘And right here is the kitchen.’ The three of them had left the main lounge and ducked through a very narrow, and very low-ceilinged hallway. Captain Mary had stopped next to an equally narrow white door. All the luxury had been used up upstairs. There was nothing plush about the scrubby oatmeal carpet they were now standing on.

Sofia turned the handle, which was disconcertingly sticky. She did try not to let out a gasp, but she failed. ‘Oh,’ was all she could say, as her eyes scanned over the small space, taking stock. Four burners, a deep fryer, two countertop spaces, a microwave and only one oven. She had had more to work with in her London studio flat – at least she’d had a separate grill.

‘I did warn you,’ said Captain Mary, who was already turning to lead Declan down the hallway. The expansive kitchen at Nakachwa flashed into Sofia’s mind, the rows and rows of spotless counter space, the huge fridges, the sharpest knives. She tried to compose herself. There was no looking back and she would have to make do. She determined that separate grill or no separate grill she would not let her menu suffer.

She closed the door, took a deep breath and followed the sound of voices. Declan and Mary seemed to have found some company. She was a rookie (or green, she supposed, in yacht-speak), but she’d done enough research to know that she was now firmly in staff quarters. They must be in the mess – the main communal area for the staff on the boat.

‘Sofia is around here somewhere. She’s the chef.’ Declan was speaking to someone excitedly.

Sofia opened the door to find five people sitting around a large table and Captain Mary standing at its head.

‘Ah there she is. Do take a seat, Sofia. This is Petra, that’s Stuart the engineer, Tabitha our stewardess, Declan of course, and Jack Carter – our first officer.’

Sofia turned from one face to the next, trying to look both suitably professional and approachable, before landing on a devastatingly familiar smirk and a pair of startlingly green eyes.

Her mind went blank.

‘It’s, um, lovely to meet everyone,’ she managed after a beat, and then even less convincingly, ‘I’m really looking forward to working with you all.’