Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Sofia was in the kitchen, slicing wafer-thin lengths of courgette when her radio cracked to life. She jumped, as she was prone to doing, and the knife slipped into her finger. The pain was instant and sharp. She instinctively brought it to her mouth, swearing quietly out of the corner of her lips. She found a plaster and grabbed the radio.
‘Chef Harlow? Emergency meeting in the mess now, over.’ It was Jack’s voice, but unfamiliar, distant and steely, like it had been on that first day when he had withdrawn into himself.
‘On my way, over,’ she said stonily. Two could play at that game.
She wondered when she might have an uneventful day on this boat. How could they be facing yet another ‘emergency’. Patricio was in full swing when she walked in.
‘It is not just in the wardrobe. When I pulled the bed back this morning, well firstly it was clear it had not been cleaned back there for a long time.’ He shot a look at Petra as he said it. He seemed to be in a generally bitchy mood then, thought Sofia. Petra’s diagnosis of this morning’s incident might not be as accurate as she feared.
‘And secondly, the wall, it was covered in mould. Dios mio, I tried to tell Petra as soon as I could but she was distracted.’ He clutched at his chest and Sofia had to suppress the urge to scoff out loud.
‘So our mould guy didn’t do a very thorough inspection then?’ Petra said defensively.
‘There is little use in doling out blame now. I will give him a call and see if he can come back before our guests return.’ Nothing could flap Captain Mary. She pulled out her phone and dialled, addressing the man on the other end in what sounded to Sofia like fluent Italian.
‘Quindi non potete venire fino a domani?’ Sofia had picked up just enough to know that domani meant tomorrow.
The captain hung up and put the phone back in her pocket.
‘So we’ll have to stay an extra night in Gaeta then? I can contact the port authorities now to ask for clearance.’ Jack had understood the entire exchange, already a couple of steps ahead of everyone else in the room.
‘Thank you, Jack, that would be much appreciated.’ There was that maternal-like tinge of pride in her voice again. Sofia felt bitter that his transgressions were not met with the same disapproval as everyone else’s.
‘And I will need another favour from you,’ the captain continued, addressing Jack.
‘Of course.’
‘The guests will need to be taken out on another day trip. I think that Cala Fonte might be nice? Perhaps with the scuba-diving equipment?’
Sofia couldn’t imagine Milly in the water, let alone swimming among the fishes with an oxygen tank strapped to her back. After this morning though she was not about to publicly contradict the captain.
Jack nodded. Obedient foot soldier that he is, thought Sofia. ‘I’ll see if I can organise that and let you know, Captain.’
With that, they were all dismissed and Sofia headed back to the kitchen, making sure to catch Declan’s eye on the way out and offer up a smile. He returned it, a little shyly. Sofia was happy that that was one fire that had been, if only momentarily, extinguished.
As the afternoon wore on, Sofia settled into a peaceful rhythm in the kitchen. Intermittently she would hear someone scuttle hurriedly up or down the hall. Getting the guests back on board was always hectic and Sofia was glad to be away from the chaos.
When Patricio came to collect the starters, it became clear that he had switched tactics and was now opting for the silent treatment.
‘Thanks very much,’ she called after him cheerfully as he huffed out the door. She would kill him with kindness. That was her counter-offensive.
When the dessert plates were brought back, he seemed physically pained to have to speak to her, but he managed the words: ‘Miss Amelia would like to speak to you in the dining room.’ It was hard not to find the whole thing funny – his haughty tone, his narrowed eyes – but Sofia knew that laughing at him would set back the reconciliation time catastrophically.
‘Thanks for letting me know, Patricio. I will be up in just a moment.’ He gave her a curt nod, laid down the plates and was gone.
Up in the dining room, Milly wailed with delight at the sight of Sofia, as though they were old friends who had been separated for years.
‘Sofiiiiiaaa, honey, how are you? Sit, sit.’ Milly patted the seat beside her and as Sofia sat down she spotted Petra was standing behind the bar, trying to conceal her amused expression.
Sofia knew that Milly meant well, but the blurring of the line between staff and friend only made Sofia uncomfortable. It was all the deference of the former with all the emotional labour of the latter and nothing in return.
‘I was wondering, if you would come with us tomorrow? We’re going to...’ She looked across at Brian, who was dressed like a moody teenager, grey hood pulled over his head, slouched deep into the chair and apparently playing some sort of game on his phone.
Brian just grunted.
‘What’s it called again?’ Milly persisted, her tone growing more shrill.
Brian looked up then. ‘Cala Fonte, innit?’
‘Cala Fonte, that’s it. Thanks, baby.’ Milly turned back to Sofia and Brian turned back to his puzzle. ‘We had such fun the last time, with you and Captain Jack, we were hoping you might come along again!’
Sofia’s stomach dropped, remembering the day out with Jack, the citrus grove, the cave, the race to the hospital. It all felt so long ago, although it had actually only been just under two weeks. In her mind it appeared like a movie she had watched, enthralled in the drama in a way that was hard to relive once you knew the ending.
‘I’m not sure, Milly. I think that usually it’s the steward who goes, or even the deckhand. I only went last time to cover for someone.’
Milly pouted, her pale freckled forehead contracting into a deep frown. ‘I don’t really know the new steward though, and I want you.’
It occurred to Sofia that Milly was probably lonely, in that way that famous people so often seemed to be. Famous people and trophy wives. Milly was on her way to being both.
‘I’ll have to ask the captain.’ Sofia was pinning her hopes on the captain vetoing the pair of them spending the day together. She had warned Sofia to stay away after all.
‘I already did!’ Milly squealed. Sofia tried to stop her disappointment from playing out on her face. ‘She told me to ask you, but she’s fine with it.’
Sofia wished she could feel even a fraction of Milly’s excitement. ‘Brilliant,’ she said, trying to mirror Milly’s tone.
A burst of sound from the corner of the room, and Sofia looked up just in time to see Petra trying to conceal a giggle with a coughing fit.
Milly was unperturbed. ‘Perfect, we’re setting off at about ten tomorrow, just after breakfast, so I’ll see you then.’ Milly gave Sofia an enthusiastic hug before she was able to excuse herself.
‘I’m afraid I need to get the crew dinner ready, but I’ll see you tomorrow.’
Back in the safety of her kitchen, Sofia groaned loudly. She couldn’t catch a break. If she was doomed to spend the day with Jack, again, she would have to try and break the ice this evening. She doubted that Milly and Brian would want to endure the arctic level of frostiness that was currently blustering between them.