Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Five
Sofia was awakened by a loud knock on the door.
‘Sofia, are you planning on cooking dinner tonight?’ It was Patricio sounding shrill and a little smug. Sofia checked her watch and groaned. She had been asleep for half an hour, and twenty of those precious minutes had been stolen from her prep time.
‘Yes, Patricio, I’m coming.’ She was still in her stewardess uniform, and her voice was muffled by the fabric as she frantically pulled it over her head. She heard a huff from the corridor and then retreating footsteps. She was definitely going to have to confront Patricio at some point soon. The situation was getting out of hand.
She pulled on her chef’s whites and trailed dutifully to the kitchen. She was so tired she could barely think straight, but somehow she managed to pull together a full meal, discounting the fruit salad, which she had to admit was a cop-out dessert.
Patricio was giving her absolutely no sympathy, even as she winced and wheezed around the kitchen. Her bloodied finger throbbing, burn itching and oesophagus burning. The consequence of oxygen deprivation and swallowing vast quantities of sea water, she assumed.
‘What happened to you?’ was as close as he got to acknowledging her plight, and even then it was delivered with an edge of disgust rather than concern.
‘It’s a long story,’ she said wearily, plating up a pyramid of spaghetti, ‘maybe you should ask Jack about it.’
His expression soured, which Sofia hadn’t thought was possible. ‘I think it might be better if we just leave Jack out of this, don’t you?’
Was he still upset about Declan? Sofia couldn’t work it out. She was using all her energy to cook and stay upright. ‘Sure.’ She sighed. ‘Service.’ She pushed the plates towards Patricio.
For the crew Sofia served up the same spaghetti, a Cajun take on a puttanesca, but she was too tired to eat it herself. As soon as Petra took the plates away she slinked back to her bed, and fell asleep almost instantaneously.
After a dreamless night, Sofia woke up early. The light was grey and she knew that her body was urging her to find him. Dawn was their time and she found herself pulling on a jumper and walking up to the deck in a trancelike state.
It was raining slightly, and the fog was thicker than usual. She had to walk all the way up to the railing to be sure that he wasn’t there. She was disappointed and she couldn’t ignore the ache in her heart any longer. In that instant she knew it would be impossible to ignore the pull. That almost innate force that had her searching for him in the liminal space between days.
Then, as if she had willed him, he was in front of her, hair tousled and damp from the drizzle, but eyes radiant.
‘I thought I might find you here,’ he said simply, and she wasn’t entirely sure she wasn’t dreaming.
‘Me too,’ she replied, ‘although I know I am breaking the terms of our little bet.’ She wanted to reach out, but she didn’t.
‘I think the bet died when I almost killed you. You can have the dawns, Sofia.’ He looked sad, she thought.
‘You didn’t almost kill me, Jack. I’m fine, but I’ll take the dawns if you’re offering.’ She smiled at him, but the one he returned didn’t reach his eyes.
He turned out to sea, leaning on the rail, and she joined him. They stood silently side by side for a while.
‘I think she likes you,’ he whispered, looking straight ahead.
‘What do you mean?’
‘My mum – I think I feel her more when you’re here anyway, if you were worried about that.’ He sounded like a boy, and Sofia felt the sting of tears pricking her eyes.
‘Did she like the sea?’
He glanced at Sofia with a look of sorrow, defiance and love. ‘She is the sea now.’ He closed his eyes and turned his face into the spray. ‘An island girl at heart – it was the only place she could ever rest.’
Sofia gazed at him, this beautiful, brave, funny, sad man in front of her, who sailed the high seas to keep his mother company, and she knew for certain that she loved him. The realisation almost made her want to laugh out loud. How ludicrous it seemed to her now that she had imagined she could run away from it, bury it somehow. She reached out her hand and laid it over his. He squeezed it lightly. As they stood, facing the iron-coloured waves, she also knew that she would give this all up for him. He could have the dawns, the sea, the boat, the job. She could not be the thing that tore them away from him. If she stayed, they would only slip up, and the captain had already given him a second chance. She was not a woman who was in the habit of handing out a third.
They stayed until the sun pierced the horizon and floated into the sky, and Sofia found herself resenting it for rising too quickly. The rain stopped and the hairs on her head began to bounce into coils as the rays dried them both off. She didn’t want this time to end but the daylight had a way of illuminating reality. She slipped her hand from his.
‘I’d better go.’ She guessed he thought she meant to prepare breakfast, but as she said the words, they rang poignantly true. He nodded, almost imperceptibly, without turning his head and she found herself longing for one more swim in those green pools, before walking away.
She passed by her cabin, taking her time to shower and get dressed, suddenly feeling pre-emptive nostalgia for her cramped quarters. She made breakfast for the guests, huevos rancheros with the green salsa on the side, although she was hoping that Milly might continue her adventurous streak. When Petra came to collect the plates she seemed distracted. Sofia had been expecting an inquisition about the day before, but instead Petra just said, ‘Looks delicious, Sofia,’ absent-mindedly and took the food away.
When she came back with the empties, Sofia’s curiosity got the better of her. ‘Everything good with you?’
Petra looked like she’d been caught out, a deer in the headlights. ‘Yes, everything’s fine. Why do you ask?’ She rushed through her words defensively.
Sofia held up her hands in surrender. ‘No reason, you just seem a bit... out of it this morning, and you haven’t even asked for the details of yesterday’s fiasco.’
‘Not everything’s about you, Sofia.’ Petra had spoken teasingly but Sofia was stung, probably because she recognised the truth in it. She had come to rely on Petra as a sounding board, a confidante, but it was often only in moments of crisis that Sofia actually asked Petra about what was going on with her.
‘Ouch, noted.’ Sofia was embarrassed.
‘Oh sorry, I didn’t mean it – I was only joking. Obviously I want to know all about it.’ Petra leant over the counter and lifted Sofia’s cheek to look her in the eye. ‘Go on, spill,’ she said cheekily.
Sofia felt a little self-conscious now, but she had to play along, after she’d made such a fuss. ‘Oh it was nothing really. We just went scuba diving when the guests were asleep and then I ran out of oxygen in the water and passed out and he rescued me and swam me back to the beach.’ Sofia was wiping the countertop and delivered the news nonchalantly but she couldn’t resist peeking up to catch Petra’s reaction.
‘You WHAT?’ Petra seemed lost for words. ‘I’m sorry but what the hell? You two think you’re in a romance novel or something? That is beyond dramatic.’ Petra seemed to still be processing.
‘So what does this mean for your... situation?’ And there it was: the crux of the matter.
All of sudden Sofia felt shy. She worried that if she revealed her plan, Petra might try and talk her out of it.
‘I don’t really know,’ she said dismissively. Now she suddenly wanted to reverse the line of questioning. ‘So what did you get up to last night?’
‘Nothing,’ Petra said, a little too quickly.
Sofia narrowed her eyes. ‘OK, if you say so.’ It was a role reversal. Petra had once met Sofia’s evasions with exactly the same response.
Petra countered her suspicion with a bright smile. ‘Anyway, got places to be! See you later.’ And she was gone.