Love Overboard

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

For dinner, Sofia had settled on a simple caprese salad for starters. The tomatoes she had were at their peak ripeness, and she could no longer resist the allure of the buffalo mozzarella bathing in a tub of brine in her fridge. For the main course, she had a couple of seabass she was going to roast whole, and dessert would be apricots poached in sweet wine with rosemary syrup and a dollop of crème fraiche.

As had become the usual, Petra dropped in to ask about the menu, and Sofia thought she saw a frown briefly flit across her face at the mention of the main course.

‘Whole seabass? Any chance you might be able to fillet them?’

Sofia felt herself getting defensive and tried to calm herself down. ‘Well, in terms of the flavour profile, roasting it whole just really does preserve the taste of the fish.’

‘You’re the chef,’ said Petra, looking relieved when her radio crackled and she was summoned upstairs. ‘To table in forty-five minutes,’ she called over her shoulder as she raced out of the kitchen.

Sofia was ready, the salads sitting on the counter when Declan arrived, wearing what could only be described as a ‘white pinny’ around his waist.

‘Well isn’t that a charming look,’ said Sofia, trying to suppress a giggle.

Declan looked as close to grumpy as she had ever seen him. Somehow it made him even more endearing, like a toddler threatening a tantrum. ‘It was Petra’s idea,’ he mumbled sulkily. ‘She said that I’m too clumsy and she can’t spend all her time washing my uniform.’

Sofia gave him a teasing pat on the back. ‘I think you look very cute.’

Declan cracked a smile, despite himself. ‘Cute isn’t exactly what I was going for, but from you I’ll take it.’

She’d stepped right into that one, and she berated herself for not being more careful. It was Sofia’s turn to be saved by the radio.

‘Service in the main saloon please.’

‘That’s your cue,’ she said to Declan, her back to him as she finished preparing the seabass.

Twenty-five minutes later he was back, salad plates empty, and waiting for the seabass.

‘They said they really enjoyed the salad.’

‘Oh, good, nothing beats a raw salad when the ingredients are that fresh.’ Sofia beamed. ‘Seabass is ready to go.’

‘Eeeesh, would you look at the eyes on that.’ Declan was staring at the plate she had handed him.

‘Not you too – it’s just a fish.’

‘Can I give you some advice? Not trying to mansplain or whatever.’

Sofia rolled her eyes. ‘Advice is not the same as explaining something, Declan.’

‘Right, yeah, OK so basically, I’d say, cut the head off.’

‘You really think they’ll be put off by seeing a fish head on their plate? Surely they know where the fillet comes from.’ Declan shrugged, but Sofia was feeling defiant. ‘If they say something, bring it back and I will replate it, without the head.’

‘OK.’ Declan stood there for a moment, opened his mouth to say something, and then promptly bit his tongue, turned on his heels and walked out.

Sofia pitted the apricots and put them in a pan, simmering with the dessert wine. She had expected to have the next twenty minutes at least to herself so she was caught by surprise when the kitchen door swung open again.

She turned to find Declan with his head bowed, holding the two plates, untouched.

Sofia felt a jolt of embarrassment. He had been right about the heads and she had been too stubborn to listen. ‘They didn’t like the heads then?’ she said quietly, taking the plates from his hands and transferring the fish to a large chopping board.

‘Um, well the thing is, Sofia—’ He was cut off by Petra coming through behind him. The three of them were now squished into the small kitchen, and Sofia began to feel claustrophobic.

‘Sofia, hey, so I need to have a word with you about the food.’ Petra had taken on a matronly tone that Sofia hadn’t heard before. She began to feel a sense of dread.

‘Go on,’ she said, although she really didn’t want her to.

‘So Amelia has made it clear to me that she has not been enjoying what she called “a relentless” amount of seafood, and that she doesn’t really eat fish.’

Sofia was finding it hard to follow what Petra was saying, as the panic clouded her hearing and locked her jaw shut.

‘She told me that she would rather have a meat-based menu from now on, and that she has been missing carbohydrates.’

Sofia found her voice. ‘But her preference sheet literally said the opposite of that. Why is she only mentioning this now? Yesterday they loved the scallops and lobster.’

Petra and Declan exchanged a look, and then neither of them would quite meet her gaze.

‘Well actually, they haven’t been finishing the food.’ Petra looked down at her hands. ‘We’ve just been clearing the plates before we bring them back to the kitchen.’

Sofia’s vision began to throb and she could feel her breathing quicken. The blood was too loud in her ears and she felt the prickle of tears. Suddenly Declan and Petra seemed and sounded very far away. She put her hands on the counter to steady herself.

In the distance she could just hear them. ‘Is she OK?’ Declan sounded worried.

‘I think she’s having a panic attack. Get her a glass of water.’

Petra brought over a small stool and lowered Sofia down. ‘Deep breaths, Sofia. Listen to me, slow down your breathing, and lower your head between your legs.’

Sofia felt like she wasn’t breathing at all; she thought of everything she had given up to be here, a promising career in London’s top kitchens and the chance to follow in Joy’s footsteps. Now she would probably get fired, and have to return to the grey city with her tail between her legs. She would have to accept that this had been a mistake, like so many people had told her it would be.

Declan handed her a glass of water. She took a sip, the cold liquid bringing her back to herself for a moment.

‘Let’s get her back to the cabin.’ Petra helped her to her feet.

‘But what about...’

‘We can cover her for tonight.’ Petra was in army sergeant mode, and Declan was ready to receive orders. The two of them led Sofia back to her room.

‘It’s going to be OK, Sofia. You didn’t know, and that’s my fault. I’m still getting the hang of this job too.’ Petra was taking off her shoes, and Sofia leant into the comfort of her voice and the feeling of being looked after. She had stopped shaking, but she felt exhausted.

‘What about dinner?’ she mumbled weakly, curling herself up into a foetal position.

‘Don’t worry about that right now.’

Sofia was awash with gratitude. ‘Thank you, Petra. I’m really sorry, and thanks for... for looking after me.’

Petra stood up. ‘Yes well, enough of the soppy stuff for tonight. I have a ship to run; you get some sleep.’

Sofia couldn’t believe that she would be able to sleep that night with the anxiety still coursing through her veins. As soon as Petra softly shut her door, the darkness and the gentle bobbing lured her into a fitful sleep. She was transported back to the day, two months ago, when she accepted the job on board the Lady Ixchel. She had asked the head chef at Nakachwa, Joy, for a meeting; she had seemed like she was expecting it.

‘Sit down, Sofia, how can I help?’ Joy’s voice was, as always, warm and deep. As she settled into the seat at her desk, she templed her slender fingers up to her chin. Her locks were piled in a crown on top of her head and with her back straight, she looked as regal as ever.

‘I don’t really know how to say this, but I’m handing in my notice.’ Sofia took a deep breath and dared to meet Joy’s dark eyes.

They were sympathetic, but also weighed down with something else. Disappointment, thought Sofia with a heavy heart.

‘Right, I see.’ A pause. ‘And can I ask why?’ Joy’s brow was furrowed with concern.

Sofia could not admit to Joy, or maybe even to herself, that it was because of Simon, and in many ways it wasn’t, not entirely. She didn’t know how to say that she had lost herself, to work, to a man, to drink, to the city. So instead she said: ‘I just think it’s time for me to move on.’

‘I’m not going to pretend I’m not sad to see you go, Sofia, and I really hope you are making the right decision. I saw a bright future for you here, but I have noticed that you’ve lost your focus, and maybe your drive.’

Joy leant forward and placed a hand over Sofia’s, which were fidgeting in her lap. ‘Look at me, Sofia.’ She waited until Sofia dragged her eyes up. ‘Don’t let anyone dim your light, Sofia, and don’t let any distractions get in the way of becoming who you want to be.’

Sofia had not been able to hold back the tears then. Joy had patted her on the shoulder before leaving her alone. In the dream, the tears began to pool at her feet, and then the room began to fill with water, salty water. Before long she was up to her waist, and the tears would not stop flowing. Eventually she was lying on her back, staring at the ceiling as the water kept rising, pushing her nose up against the plaster until she was completely submerged.

Sofia did not awake in a panic; instead she felt a weighty sense of calm. The cabin was rocking with the waves. She wiped away the single tear running down her cheek. She rolled over, shut her eyes once again and this time was welcomed by a deep, empty slumber.