Love Overboard

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Two

Sofia resolved to find Petra after dinner. Brian and Milly were due back any minute and she and Petra would both be busy until food had been served and eaten. Sofia couldn’t let herself think about how tired she was. She had known that she was signing up for an intense job but she had to admit that she hadn’t been worked this hard in a Michelin-star restaurant. She prepped and cooked and plated, radioing in for service and holding her breath in anticipation of Petra’s arrival. She was trying out her best ‘everything is normal’ smile when the door swung open to reveal a strikingly pretty man wearing the steward uniform. He was slight, olive-skinned, with thick dark curly hair that was perfectly styled. Sofia noticed that his fingernails were painted with clear polish when he picked up the plates.

‘Hi, I’m Patricio, sorry for the rushed introduction. I promise I will say hello properly after service.’ Sofia was pretty sure she could detect a trace of an Italian accent, but only just. When he flashed her a smile on the way out, his teeth were startlingly white.

The whole meeting was so quick that Sofia barely had time to say, ‘Sofia, it’s a pleasure,’ before the kitchen door swung closed. He was certainly efficient. Petra and Patricio seemed destined to make a great team.

She set about making the main course, sirloin steaks cooked to a blasphemous ‘well done’ and chips. Since she had devised the new menu she had come to realise that the chef in her would need to coexist with the cook if she was going to make it in yachting. Being a cook was about comforting people, occasionally expanding their palettes, but ultimately it was caregiving, feeding people who wanted to eat rather than savour or ‘experience’ food.

That being said, she would be sure to triple-fry the chips and sneak some anchovy paste into the garlic butter sauce. If they were going for meat and two veg, she was going to make sure it was the tastiest version of it they’d ever tried.

Patricio was back, and then after a well-choreographed exchange he was gone again. Two clean plates where two full plates had just been. One more round for dessert and then they were done. Sofia was wiping down her countertops when Patricio came back with the bowls where the raspberry cheesecake had sat.

‘Mama mia!’ he exclaimed, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. Before Sofia had a chance to verbalise what she was thinking, he answered her question. ‘No don’t worry I’m not that Italian.’ Sofia laughed. She was grateful to be having a conversation that was not loaded with some sort of hangover-induced tension.

‘What a shame, I could do with some practice,’ Sofia said jokingly, although Patricio seemed to have missed the edge of humour.

‘Ah, stai imparando l’italiano?’ he replied, and his cheerful earnestness reminded her of Declan, before she had broken his heart.

She blushed, embarrassed by just how little she understood of what he was saying. ‘Oh no I, I was joking. My Italian is terrible.’

‘Terribile!’ he corrected.

‘Terribile,’ Sofia repeated awkwardly. ‘Well anyway, we are very glad to have you. You certainly know what you’re doing. Have you been yachting for a long time?’

‘No, it is my first time on a boat. I’m a virgin, in that sense at least.’ He gave her a theatrical wink and she giggled. ‘I used to work for the Alexandrea. It’s the fancy hotel just down on the south coast of Capri.’

‘Ah, so that’s where you get your impeccable waitering skills. Petra will be thrilled.’ For a man who seemed so comfortable in his own skin, she was surprised by how awkwardly he received the compliment.

‘Thank you, Sofia,’ he said softly, looking down at his hands and smiling to himself.

‘Well I’m afraid I am the one who has to rush off now. I need to speak with someone. I will see you for crew dinner in an hour?’

‘Looking forward to meeting everyone properly,’ he said eagerly.

Sofia smiled. ‘Yes they’re quite a bunch of characters.’

She headed back to her cabin and tried to radio Petra, but the walkie-talkie came back with only a white-noise buzz. Sofia was afraid that if she lost her nerve she might end up not saying anything and holding on to the kernel of resentment until it flowered into something even uglier.

She wandered around the boat for the next half an hour, poking her head into cupboards, utility rooms, even the top deck, but Petra was nowhere to be found. She came across Milly who was sitting in the main saloon drinking a cup of tea and, to nobody’s surprise, scrolling through her Instagram.

‘Oh sorry to disturb,’ Sofia said apologetically. Milly was so in the zone that she hadn’t noticed Sofia come in but when she looked up she offered a weary smile.

‘That’s OK, I’m not really up to much anyway.’ She seemed deflated, and Sofia fought the urge to ask what was wrong. She didn’t have time for this, but Milly seemed to be willing her to ask.

‘How are you doing? Has Brian recovered?’ Milly sat up and patted the space next to her. Slightly reluctantly, Sofia took a seat.

‘He’s gone to bed early. I think the past two days have been pretty exhausting.’

Sofia couldn’t agree more, she had never longed to ‘go to bed early’ more than she did at that moment.

‘It was scary, seeing him hurt like that.’ That steely look Milly had had on the boat flashed across her face quickly and then her expression melted into something softer. When she looked over at Sofia, she had tears in her eyes. ‘But, like, in a way, it was nice to feel close to him. Is it weird to say that the evening in the hospital was one of my favourite of the trip so far?’

Sofia looked around the room, at the excess of luxury adorning every visible surface. She chuckled warmly. ‘A little,’ she said.

Milly looked embarrassed. ‘Oh no I mean you guys have been great... well most of you. I just meant like it was nice to have some proper time alone. Obviously I’m super blessed to be able to be here.’ The influencer sheen of unrelenting optimism had returned to her voice as she said this last part, culminating in a bright but slightly unconvincing smile.

But Sofia couldn’t let one thing slip. ‘Most of us?’ She tried to keep her tone light and curious.

Milly rolled her eyes, leaning in conspiratorially, whispering as if they might be overheard in the large and empty room they were sitting in.

‘I actually had to have a word with the captain this evening. Usually she has to serve the food as well, but tonight she was just on drinks and it was unbearable. The way she drools over Brian, it’s totally unacceptable!’ Milly’s voice had built resolutely out of a whisper. ‘Honestly if that’s what she’s like when I’m in the room, I’d hate to imagine what goes on when I’m not there to keep an eye on things.’

Sofia had had just about enough of sinking feelings for one day, but here was another wave. ‘You’re talking about Petra, right?’ she asked reticently.

Milly huffed, arms folded. ‘Who else?’

‘I don’t think you need to worry. I’ve seen the way Brian looks at you.’ It wasn’t a lie; she had indeed seen Brian look at Milly, but if she was being totally honest, he was not the most expressive person.

Mostly, Sofia felt the need to defend her friend in a way that wasn’t too obvious. Petra could be a bit of a flirt, but she was also a professional. Sofia knew she wouldn’t cross that line. Then again after what she had learnt earlier, maybe Petra wasn’t as infallible as Sofia had first thought. Right now though the fault lines were clear, and she wasn’t about to be caught bad-mouthing Petra to the guests.

‘I mean look at you, how could he not be madly in love?’ Sofia cringed at herself internally but to her surprise it seemed to have the desired effect on Milly.

She beamed, dropping her head coyly and smiling into her lap. ‘Do you really think so?’

Sofia swallowed her dignity. ‘Of course, you’re an absolute stunner. Any guy would be lucky to have you.’

Milly pounced and, before Sofia could react, she had been pulled into a too-tight hug.

‘Oh, Sofia, you don’t know how much I needed to hear that. You’re always there for me!’ Milly effused into the crook of Sofia’s neck.

For someone who spent most of the day reviewing reams of affirmation from millions of strangers, Sofia was shocked by how fragile Milly’s self-esteem was. She rubbed Milly’s shoulder awkwardly and then extracted herself from the embrace. Both women sensed that the moment of shared intimacy had been a little performative.

‘I’d better start getting the crew’s dinner ready.’ Sofia was eager to get back below deck.

‘Of course. Thanks again, I know you’re probably thinking “silly little insecure influencer getting upset about her sham relationship”.’ Milly tried a laugh to make her self-deprecation more light-hearted, but it sounded hard and forced.

‘Not at all,’ replied Sofia with a sympathetic smile, although she wasn’t sure what she thought quite yet.

Milly waved her away. ‘Anyway, you better be going. I’ve kept you here long enough.’ Another smile, a little wave and Sofia was retreating down the stairs, a little more hurriedly than she usually would.

One last circuit around the boat, a knock on Petra’s door and still no sign. It was time to get the crew dinner ready anyway, so she got to work: a borlotti bean and fennel sausage stew. Patricio helped her bring the plates in and Sofia scanned the table for Petra.

Jack, Declan, Stuart and Captain Mary sat around in what had presumably been a comfortable silence that turned a little sour when Sofia walked in. She tried to ignore it, and the creeping sense of déjà-vu.

‘No Petra tonight?’ she asked. She was aiming for a nonchalant tone.

‘She’s feeling a little... under the weather,’ said Captain Mary in a way that sounded a little euphemistic.

Everybody looked even worse for wear than they had that morning, everybody apart from Patricio, who was chatting away, masking the rest of the table’s general lack of lustre. Sofia had a hard time appearing like she was listening to the conversation when her mind was racing, thinking about what had happened to Petra, how easily Milly had turned against her, how the last thing she needed was a pile-on about Jack. On top of that she was avidly avoiding eye contact with both Declan and Jack.

When they were done, Sofia cleared the plates, grateful for a quick exit, hastily wishing everyone a good night.

In bed, she tossed and turned, her brain running through the day over and over. From Jack to Declan to Petra, she felt like she had woken up that morning with a sense of where she stood with them all. Now she was going to sleep with all three relationships in turmoil. In the life of a yachtie, and in the words of her mother’s favourite singer, what a difference a day makes.