Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Sofia slept in, a rare privilege afforded to her by the absence of Milly and Brian that morning. The longer she stayed in bed though, the more terrifying leaving the protection of her cabin felt. She had to face the captain at some point. As the clock neared twelve, she had already run through a dozen ways their conversation might go.
She hauled herself out of bed and into the shower, channelling her anxious energy into the long put off task of detangling her hair. She stood in front of the mirror and let the worst-case scenario play out in her mind. Sometimes the exercise calmed her, but today the image of her wheeling her case off the boat brought her close to hyperventilating.
She took a deep breath and ventured into the corridor. She was glad not to bump into anyone on her way upstairs. Tentatively she knocked on the door of the office. When the captain opened the door, she was smiling.
‘Come in, Sofia, take a seat.’ If the friendly tone was supposed to ease her nerves, it wasn’t working at all. There were two armchairs on one side of the desk and she stood awkwardly for a moment, paralysed by the choice. Captain Mary sat down and pointed to the chair on the left. Sofia was grateful.
‘Now, Sofia, I’m assuming you know what I would like to talk about today?’
Sofia’s palms were sweaty. ‘I think so,’ she said cautiously.
‘Officer Carter informed me yesterday about your... relations.’ The formality of it all made her feel like the naughty schoolgirl, sent to the principal’s office.
‘I am also assuming that you have read my rules and you are aware that we have a no-fraternisation policy when it comes to staff relationships. The only people that are allowed to umm...’ Sofia realised that the captain was probably just as uncomfortable as she was ‘...have sex on this boat, are the guests, and exclusively with each other. Do you understand that?’
‘I do.’
‘Now Officer Carter has told me that it was a one-time occurrence and that you have no plans to repeat your mistakes.’ Sofia flinched at that last word, but she nodded effusively.
‘I think that’s wise,’ the captain continued, ‘and I also think it best that you both exercise your discretion and keep the matter between yourselves.’ Sofia looked down at her hands, visibly ashamed. She heard the captain sigh softly.
‘That is, unless it is too late for that?’
‘I’m so sorry, Captain, I don’t know what came over me. I wasn’t... thinking straight.’
The captain raised an eyebrow. She was unimpressed to say the least.
‘Might I hazard a guess that this lapse in “thinking” was last night?’
Somehow it was going even worse than her overanxious brain could have fathomed. ‘Yes,’ she said, unable to meet the captain’s gaze.
‘Well in that case, I really will have to think about your future on this boat.’ And there they were, the words that Sofia had been waiting, with dread, to hear. ‘If the rest of the crew knows about this dalliance, it really does make it hard for me not to be seen to take action.’ The captain seemed a little exasperated. It was unsettling to see her lose even a fraction of her cool.
‘It’s just such a shame, Sofia, because you really are a great chef. I would have loved to keep you on permanently, but it will be very difficult to have the both of you on board.’ Sofia had a sickening flash of déjà-vu. She had already been in this position, only a couple of months before, with Joy sitting opposite her.
‘Please, Captain, I know what I did was wrong, but you gave me a chance once when I really needed one, and I’m begging you for just one more. I won’t let you down again.’
Sofia wasn’t just fighting for her job, she was fighting for herself, like she hadn’t done last time. ‘I’ve loved my time in your kitchen, and I’m just asking for one more shot to prove to you that that is what I’m here for. Jack...’ She stumbled over her words. ‘I mean Officer Carter – he’s not why I’m here. I’m not looking for a love story; I’m here to be the best chef I can be, and if that means I never talk to Officer Carter again, I can do that.’ She sat up a little straighter, looking defiant.
Captain Mary leant back in her chair, taking her time to consider her options. ‘OK, Sofia,’ she said after a long pause. ‘You have one more chance. Consider the rest of this charter your opportunity to impress me, and I’ll think about the permanent role.’
Sofia wanted to kiss the captain’s feet. ‘Thank you, thank you so much. I won’t let you down.’
The captain held up her hand, cutting her off. ‘As for Officer Carter, I’m afraid you simply won’t be able to completely avoid each other, but might I suggest you try and keep your interactions civil and... professional.’
‘Of course.’ Sofia thought she might cry with relief.
‘I see a lot of myself in you, Sofia. Don’t disappoint me.’ The captain’s tone was stern but Sofia thought she spied a fleck of sympathy in her eyes. Sofia scrambled to her feet as the captain opened the door for her.
‘See you at dinner.’ And with that, the door swung closed, and Sofia was left standing in the corridor.
As she walked down the stairs, she spotted Jack through a window. He and Declan were kneeling in front of what looked like a vent. They were both concentrating, but they seemed comfortable enough around each other. Sofia wondered if they had discussed what happened last night, or swept it all under the rug.
Sometimes she envied the ease of male friendships; other times she felt resentful that it always seemed to fall on the women present to get to the bottom of the things they were trying to leave unsaid.
She automatically headed for the kitchen and then realised she didn’t really have anything to do before dinner. It was so rare that she wasn’t rushed off her feet that Sofia was at a loss. She decided to go and find Petra.
The laundry room was stuffy and humid, but there was something so cosy about the smell of freshly ironed linens that it made her homesick. In London her small studio hadn’t been big enough for a washing machine so she would often spend her Mondays off at the laundrette, watching a film on her phone as people literally aired their dirty laundry in public. The rhythm of life was so different on board. It was strange not to have those moments of private domesticity.
Petra’s ironing was mesmerisingly efficient. Sofia began folding towels and sheets from the dryer.
‘Not those, I’m going to iron those.’ Petra thrust her chin in the direction of the lace-scalloped pillowcase in Sofia’s hand.
‘That’s true luxury. I don’t think I’ve ever ironed my bed sheets.’ Sofia said it offhandedly. She wasn’t expecting the look of horror that flashed across Petra’s face.
‘I’m sorry, I just didn’t realise I was in the presence of a teenage boy,’ Petra scolded.
Sofia couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Wait, do you?’
‘Of course! It’s about the little things, you know. I’m very house proud.’ All the hours they had spent gossiping and baring their souls, and Sofia had never asked about Petra’s home life, what it was she had left behind. She didn’t even really know where she was from.
‘Where is home for you, anyway?’ Now Sofia was curious.
‘Well, I was born just outside Melbourne but I was working in Sydney before I left.’ Petra chuckled to herself. ‘I was supposed to go to Europe for six months, but six years later and here I still am.’
‘And where do you go in the off-season?’ Sofia somehow couldn’t really imagine Petra doing things like food shopping or paying council tax.
‘I have a tiny flat in Brighton that I rent out when I’m away, and then I spend the first week back cleaning it compulsively from top to bottom.’ Petra was huffing over a persistent crease.
She put down the iron and looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully. ‘I actually bought it last year, never imagined I’d be able to afford it. I promised myself once I had that stability I would find a “normal job” and settle down.’
‘What happened?’
‘Oh you know, I got the call from Captain Mary and the call of the high seas was too much to resist.’ Her sarcastic tone made it hard to tell how much truth was buried in the humour. Sofia waited, hoping the silence might draw her out. It worked.
‘Maybe part of me is scared? That if I stop moving I might just look around and realise there’s no one around me.’ Petra hurriedly went back to her ironing. ‘I don’t know, just your run-of-the-mill, mid-thirty-something paranoia about dying alone.’
‘Nah, you’ll always have Captain Mary.’ Sofia tried to lighten the mood, but Petra’s polite smile was a sad one.
For a few minutes the room was only filled with the sounds of hissing steam and the thudding of the dryer. Sofia needed to scramble onto safer conversational ground, but every topic she thought of seemed fraught with controversy.
‘Well last night was interesting.’ She hoped the statement was vague enough that Petra would feel comfortable guiding it in whichever direction she wanted.
‘That’s putting it mildly. I think this boat is cursed. The moment the captain made that rule, Cupid’s evil twin has been running rampant.’ She counted off on her fingers. ‘On this charter alone we’ve had you and Jack, you and Declan, me and Brian...’ She blushed as she said this but Sofia couldn’t help but interject.
‘You and Stuart!’
‘Well I’m not counting unrequited, undeclared crushes,’ Petra said firmly, as if the rules were obvious.
‘Well you’re counting Declan’s unrequited crush and I’m not sure you can dismiss a drunken kiss as “undeclared” anything, so...’ Sofia smiled devilishly, and Petra rolled her eyes.
‘Fine, Stuart and I,’ she conceded, with another finger. ‘I don’t know what your read is, but honestly whatever is going on with Patricio and Declan, that’s at least a half strike.’ She thrust her hand in the air emphatically. ‘Almost five infractions, and we’re only just over halfway through the charter.’
Sofia reflected on how little time had actually passed since she had met everyone, thirteen days to be precise, but already they felt like family, the dysfunctional sort that you argue with, sure, but also people she felt she could rely on.
Patricio popped his head round the door. ‘Petra, I’m just finishing up the guests’ suite and I’m a little worried. I think I’ve found more...’ He stopped short when he saw Sofia, and she was surprised to see his eyes turn cold.
‘Oh, hello, Sofia. I didn’t realise you were here.’ There was a definite hardness to his voice, which was all the more disconcerting coming from him.
‘I’m just killing some time until dinner – nothing to do with the guests out for lunch!’ she said cheerily.
Patricio pursed his lips. ‘Nothing to do for you perhaps,’ he said snootily, before flouncing out of the room.
Sofia turned to Petra, whose eyebrows were as raised as Sofia’s own.
‘Well, that was...’ Petra began.
‘... passive-aggressive to the extreme? OK I’m glad I’m not imagining it.’ Sofia was baffled.
‘Well that just confirms my suspicions,’ Petra said with a knowing look.
Sofia was a beat behind.
‘Isn’t it obvious?’ Petra continued, but Sofia looked blank. ‘He’s jealous. He’s obviously mad about Declan, and after last night he knows that you’re his love rival.’
‘Love rival? Isn’t that a little overly dramatic?’ Sofia wasn’t convinced.
‘Have you met Patricio?’
‘Just when I put out one fire,’ Sofia huffed, exasperated, ‘ten more pop up to replace it.’
‘Funny that! It’s almost like somebody should make a rule to avoid all this unnecessary competition and tension.’
Sofia had to laugh. It was all so absurd, but if she didn’t laugh, she might cry. ‘So do you think I’ll have to challenge him to a duel or something, to restore his honour?’ Sofia was joking, but at this point it didn’t even feel completely out of the realms of possibility; maybe it was a yachtie tradition she just hadn’t heard of yet.
‘I reckon a couple of sweet treats and the passing of time will do the trick,’ Petra mused.
‘Yes, because that worked so well with Declan,’ Sofia muttered under her breath. ‘Anyway I better go. It’s about time to start prepping, and I can leave you to your perfectly pressed pillowcases.’
‘See you later.’ Petra blew Sofia a kiss as she walked out.