Love Overboard

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

The day after the crew’s night out in Capri, Sofia woke up with a headache that made the back of her eyes sting. She checked the time: 8a.m. She must have had about three hours of sleep but it was time to make breakfast. As she sat up, the room began to spin and she thought for a horrifying moment that she might vomit, but the nausea passed. She chugged a large glass of water, took a quick shower and scraped her hair back into a bun, chastising herself lightly for so indulgently letting her hair down.

Breakfast would have to be eggs. The wooliness of Sofia’s brain was not conducive to cooking up anything more imaginative. Once she was done poaching and toasting, she radioed for backup. When Petra walked into the kitchen, Sofia had to stifle a laugh. It was alarming to see Petra, usually so put together, with her hair in a matted mess and her mascara smeared under her eyes.

‘Please don’t say anything,’ she said irritably, as if reading Sofia’s mind. ‘My sense of self is too fragile this morning.’ Sofia dragged her thumb and forefinger across her sealed lips and picked up two plates. Petra followed suit.

Sofia was surprised to see the captain at the mess table. She rarely joined them for breakfast.

In response to Sofia’s quizzical expression Captain Mary said, ‘Oh don’t mind me, I’m just here out of morbid curiosity. I like to see how everyone is faring after their trip to solid land.’ The normally inscrutable captain was trying to hide a mischievous smile.

‘I didn’t make enough eggs, I’m sorry.’

‘I’ll have Jack’s portion. I suspect he’s not on board this morning?’ This last question was directed at Petra.

‘You have deduced correctly, Captain. Our Jacky boy must have found himself a bed for the night.’

Sofia was taken aback at the ease with which they were discussing Jack’s sex life – his boss and a colleague. Sofia would be mortified. She was also, she had to admit, contending with that kernel of jealousy that had nestled in her stomach the night before. She didn’t really want to think about what it meant, so she decided she would ignore it, and chalk it up to some bizarre manifestation of her hangxiety. She knew better than most that no good could come of her harbouring any romantic feelings towards Jack.

For now she sat back and listened to Declan regale the captain with the sordid details of the night before. Sofia noticed that he did not mention Petra and Stuart’s kiss. Had he not been a witness or had Petra got to him in time to emphasise the need for discretion? Sofia also noted that Stuart had not said a word and was resolutely avoiding eye contact with anyone, especially Petra. It was yet further confirmation that a workplace fling was a doomed endeavour.

‘At one point Petra bought flaming shots and then this um...’ Declan was blushing, although you couldn’t tell ‘...a very nice lady asked me if I wanted to take it out of her belly button.’ The captain seemed to find this story hilarious and Declan looked relieved. He had faltered halfway through the anecdote, perhaps coming to the realisation that it was not entirely work-appropriate.

‘To be young again—’ the captain sighed ‘—if I took a body shot off a “very nice lady” I certainly would not be able to come to work the next day.’ She winked at Declan, and he laughed nervously. Captain Mary had finished her breakfast and she laid her cutlery down emphatically.

‘Not to interrupt this lovely chat with logistics but I’d like to go through the next couple of days with everyone. Well, almost everyone – Officer Carter will have to be brought up to speed at a later date.’ That was met by a muffled chuckle from around the table.

‘As I’m sure you all know by now, our guests went to the hospital yesterday, but you will all be pleased to know they were quickly discharged and spent the night in the villa on the island as planned.’

‘He didn’t need his foot amputated then?’ Petra said dryly.

‘Now, now, Petra, you must remember that some of our guests have very... delicate sensibilities.’

‘Ever the diplomat, Captain.’ It was clear Petra was not in a patient mood, and Sofia nudged her foot under the table. Be quiet, she thought, willing Petra to tune in to her telepathy.

‘So in that sense the plan has not really changed. We’ll be onboarding more supplies today and, drumroll please...’ everyone seemed too dazed to take the command on board and there was silence until Declan obliged, tapping on the table rhythmically.

‘Thank you, Declan, I am glad to see one of you is awake today. We will be welcoming a new crew member, a replacement for poor Tabitha. He is called Patricio and he’ll be answering to Petra as our new steward.’

‘Huh, so it’ll be a mixed bunk?’ Petra did not seem thrilled at the prospect.

‘Actually, I was thinking maybe you and Stuart could swap, so Petra would bunk with me and Stuart and Patricio can share a bunk. Obviously that’s only if that is OK with you, Stuart?’ The captain phrased it as a question, but it was clear the plan had already been well thought out.

There was the crimson flare-up again. ‘Of course, if that’s more comfortable for you, Petra?’ He glanced over at her quickly as he said her name and Sofia saw that Petra seemed determined not to meet his eyes.

‘That works for me, thank you, Stuart.’ She said this flatly, looking at the captain the whole time.

‘Right then, that’s settled. He’s joining us this evening so let’s do the swap during the day, preferably before our guests are back, which should be around four o’clock. We’ll be lifting the anchor tonight and our next stop is in three days at the Isola d’Ischia, but remember we can’t get any more supplies until we dock at Gaeta in two whole weeks, so we really have to be organised today.’

It was not what Sofia wanted to hear today. She could barely concentrate on getting her fork from her plate to her mouth without missing, let alone plan for the next two weeks of meals with ever-diminishing fresh produce. Looking around the table at the glum faces, she wondered who had decided that it was a good idea for yachties to drink to excess. Wasn’t there some famous rule about impaired motor function and heavy machinery not being a great mix?

‘Right, thanks, everyone. Let’s get to work.’ Captain Mary clapped her hands together and Petra flinched. ‘Might I recommend some strong coffee,’ she added, as she strolled out the room.

Petra sunk her head into her hands ‘Why?’ she moaned. ‘Why do I never learn?’

Declan gave her a reassuring rub on the back. ‘At least you’ll have another pair of hands soon to help out,’ he said optimistically.

Petra shot him a look. ‘Oh yeah great, another green-gilled teenager to train up.’ Declan looked dejected, and Petra bit her lip. ‘Sorry, Dec, I’m in a foul mood. It’s nothing personal.’

‘I guess I better get to planning this menu. Hopefully Jack will have appeared by the time I need to get my supplies.’ She hadn’t meant it to sound as accusatory as it did.

‘Don’t worry, Sofia. I can help.’

Sofia eyed Declan suspiciously. ‘How are you so perky this morning?’

Declan broke into a cheeky grin. ‘Well if you must know, I was only drinking lemonade yesterday. After you had to step in for me on the boat trip, I thought I better get my act together. You inspired me actually.’

‘Huh, I’m not feeling much like an inspiration today.’ Sofia’s temples had begun to throb ominously. ‘But good for you, kid.’

Declan frowned for a moment and then recovered himself. ‘Just let me know when you need me.’ He bounded to his feet and left the room, leaving Sofia, Petra and Stuart. The atmosphere immediately became tinged with something loaded. Sofia didn’t have the stomach for whatever it was – awkwardness or sexual tension. She made her excuses and a swift exit.

‘I’ll leave you two to clear if that’s OK?’ Petra shot her a dirty look but she was already out the door.