Chapter 20
20
There’s a new charter arriving tomorrow, so Louise has given Berry and me the day off.
Berry said she wants to show me the market, so we get a cab to the same town square where we had dinner a couple of nights ago.
The square and surrounding streets are filled with market stalls, with locals and tourists jostling to buy fruit and vegetables, leather bags and beaded jewellery.
Berry and I walk up one side, pointing out towers of oranges with the leaves still attached, violet-and-white-striped aubergines, bunches of herbs, loops of chorizo hanging from the stalls’ canopies, an enormous wheel of Parmesan, the guy selling it holding out a sliver to tempt us over.
We haven’t talked about last night yet, or touched or kissed, but I want to.
I want to hold her hand, to tell her I can’t stop thinking about her, to run my tongue over her tattoos.
Streams of bunting stretched over the top of the square cast lines of frilly shade on the ground and across Berry’s face as she smiles at me, pointing to a selection of huge pastries in the window of a bakery in the corner of the square.
‘Have you tried these?’ She points out a giant pastry that’s round and swirled like a shell, golden and dusted with icing sugar.
‘Ensa?madas. They’re unbelievable.
’
I shake my head.
‘Are they kind of like croissants?’
‘I guess . . .’ Berry says.
‘Wait, no, I think they’re softer.
And sweeter. More like brioche?
’
I follow her into the small bakery through a curtain of rainbow strips of plastic to keep out flies.
There’s a tiny woman behind the counter with dark bobbed hair and a welcoming smile.
Most of the space is taken up by two tall men who seem to be asking questions about every item on the tilted wooden shelves.
The woman answers their questions in rapid Spanish, gesturing to us that she’ll be with us when she can.
One of the men steps backwards, bumping into me, and then they turn and leave, without acknowledging us or thanking the woman.
‘Men!’ she says in Spanish-accented English and we both laugh.
‘Which do you want?’ Berry asks me, pointing at an array of pastries in a glass case.
‘I think we should get a plain one. And I’m thinking chocolate?
’
I choose an ensa?mada studded with halved apricots and the woman says, ‘My favourite’ as she passes it over the counter to me in a white paper bag.
Berry is already biting into her plain pastry as we step out of the cool shop and back into the hot sun.
‘Oh my god,’ she says, almost doubling over with happiness.
‘I’d almost forgotten how good these are!
’
She straightens up and I smile because her face is dusted with icing sugar.
‘You’ve got a bit of .
. .’ I gesture towards her mouth.
And chin. And cheeks.
‘Oh yeah?’ She grins at me and takes another huge bite.
‘Want to make something of it?’
I really do.
Her eyes widen as I take a step closer and look down at her mouth.
‘Oh shit.’ She laughs.
‘Don’t say that!’
‘I meant . . . good shit.’ She’s still grinning.
I press up closer and she swallows, looking down at my lips.
‘Wait,’ she says, reaching for my wrist. ‘Not here.’
She’s probably right.
There are a lot of people around.
She tugs me down the side of the bakery and into a narrow and deserted lane; the buildings painted pink and terracotta and tan.
We can still hear the bustle of the market – and somewhere a band is playing a song about how Sunday morning is easy – but for now we’re alone.
Berry steps back into a wide doorway and smiles at me, waiting.
I study her for a second – her black sundress, yellow sandals, sunglasses pushed up on top of her head, as she stares back at me in anticipation – and I can’t believe I’m about to do what I am absolutely about to do.
Her breath hitches as I take a step closer so I’m almost right up against her.
And then I lean in and slowly run my tongue over her lips, tasting icing sugar and butter.
‘Hey,’ she says, smiling against my mouth.
‘You’ve got your own.
’
‘I’m trying to be sexy,’ I tell her, pulling back a little.
‘And you’re ruining it.
’
‘You’re doing a great job.
’ She hooks a finger into the waistband of my shorts to tug me closer.
I brace one hand against the wooden door behind her to steady myself as I lick her mouth again and she sighs.
I turn my head to deepen the kiss, slipping my tongue between her lips.
She curls her tongue around mine, still pulling on my shorts and I relax against her and into the kiss.
I curl my hand around the back of her neck, my thumb brushing her jaw, the corner of her mouth, as she runs her tongue along my bottom lip, her hands on my hips now, holding me against her.
I pull away as the church bells at the end of the square start to ring.
Berry’s breathing heavily, her pupils wide.
She’s still got some icing sugar on her face and I brush it off.
‘You’ve got some now too,’ she says.
She runs her thumb over my lips then sucks it into her mouth and my knees actually go weak.
‘That was extremely hot,’ I tell her.
She smiles. ‘I hoped it might be.’
It’s only when we both straighten up that we notice Berry had been holding the bag of ensa?madas between us and they’re crushed.
Apricot has oozed through the paper and all over the front of my T-shirt.
‘Oops,’ Berry says.
We spend the rest of the day wandering around the town.
We have lunch at the bottom of a steep flight of steps that leads up to a small chapel and afterwards we walk up the steps and get an ice cream next to the chapel, while wild cats brush up against our legs and gaze up at us hopefully and the man who runs the cafe stands in an open doorway smoking and yelling at the cats to go away.
Berry brushes her thumb over the red lines the jellyfish sting left on my leg and it sends shivers through me.
‘Does it still hurt?’
I shake my head.
‘I can feel it; I know it’s there.
But it doesn’t hurt.
’
I don’t, can’t, tell Berry, but that’s also how I feel about everything that has happened with Adam.
Something doesn’t feel quite right – if I stop and think about it, there’s a sort of hollow in my stomach – but it doesn’t hurt.
Not like it did when he first told me about the kiss.
Not like I thought it would.
‘What are you thinking about?’ Berry asks me.
I smile. ‘How lucky I am to be here. With you.’
‘Funny,’ she says.
‘That’s what I was thinking too.
’
‘Can we . . . ? I know we haven’t really had a chance to talk.
’
‘No.’ She rests her warm hand on my thigh.
‘I don’t want to tell anyone.
’ I look down at one of the cats curled up under the table.
‘If that’s okay. I just .
. . it’s new. And I want to keep it just for us.
’
‘Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.’
I look at her and she’s smiling at me, her sunglasses pushed up into her hair.
‘Everyone’s always in your business on board.
And Nico with the jokes.
’
I roll my eyes. ‘Right.’
‘Anyway,’ she says, leaning towards me, her hand drifting further up my thigh, ‘it’ll be our own sexy little secret.
’
When we get back to the Serendipity – soft and relaxed from the sun and the sugar and the kissing – before we’re even back on board I can hear Adam shouting as we walk up the passerelle.
‘Oh shit,’ Berry says.
‘What now?’
‘It’s not even about that,’ Ben is saying, as we cross the aft deck.
‘Yes, of course everyone makes mistakes, but you have to own up to them.’
‘I said I’ll go and talk to the captain!
’ Adam says, exasperated.
‘But you should have come to me first,’ Ben says.
‘Better steer clear of that,’ Berry says, heading for the doors to the salon.
Part of me wants to stay, to see if I can learn anything about what’s been going on, but another part of me – the part that kissed icing sugar off Berry’s mouth and shivered in the sun as she stroked my leg – doesn’t want to break the sunny spell of the day, so I follow Berry down to the crew mess.
Louise is sitting at the table, her hair pulled back off her face with a wide stretchy band, her skin is shiny with moisturiser.
In front of her on the table are two trays of nail products, including an LED lamp.
‘I didn’t know you did this!
’ Berry says, sitting on the end of the bench and reaching for one of the bottles of varnish before pulling her hand back.
‘Can I?’
‘Go for it,’ Louise says.
‘I got sick of having to fit appointments in around charters so I decided to just do it myself. I can do yours if you like? You too, Hope.’
I make coffees for Berry and me and a green tea for Louise then sit opposite Berry, on the other side of Louise.
Louise finishes her own nails and then starts on Berry’s, removing the Barbie pink varnish and applying the peachy-orange shade Berry chooses.
‘Do you know what’s happened with Adam?
’ I can’t resist asking Louise, as she paints Berry’s nails.
‘He broke the davit,’ Louise says, without looking up.
‘Wasn’t concentrating, pulled it at an angle.
Expensive repair. Captain’s going to be furious.
’
‘Ben sounded furious,’ Berry says.
‘Yeah.’ Louise caps the varnish and slides Berry’s hand into the LED lamp.
‘The thing is, everyone makes mistakes but Adam gets an attitude when anyone talks to him about it.’
‘He’s always been like that,’ I tell them.
‘He’s angry with himself but he turns it on everyone else.
’
‘I get it,’ Louise says.
‘But it doesn’t work in a job like this.
You have to be part of a team.
And I don’t know if he’s a team player.
’ She drinks some of her tea before swapping Berry’s hands.
‘Anyway. What did you two get up to?’
I look over at Berry.
The corners of her mouth are twitching.
I think about her fingers on my thigh under the table earlier.
About leaning up against her outside the bakery, the sound she made when she knew I was about to kiss her.
‘Not much,’ Berry says, still looking at me.
‘Walked around. Had lunch.’
My breath catches as, under the table, her bare foot slides up my calf.
‘It’s so nice there,’ Louise says.
‘There’s this gorgeous deli at the bottom of the Calvari Steps.
The apricot balsamic is incredible.
’
I think about the apricot ensa?mada Berry and I crushed between us outside the bakery.
‘I don’t think I’m going to get my nails done,’ I tell Louise and watch Berry’s eyes widen.
‘I think I’m good for now.
Thanks though.’
Louise smiles at me.
‘Actually that works out pretty well. I need to start getting ready.’
‘Going somewhere nice?’ Berry asks her.
‘Wine and cheese-tasting evening in Alcúdia.’
Louise finishes packing her manicure stuff away.
‘Alone?’ Berry asks.
Louise smiles at us both.
‘No. With Nico. He’s trying to butter me up.
’
‘Wine and cheese should do it,’ Berry says.
Louise slides to the end of the seat and stands.
‘Can’t hurt! Have a good night, ladies.
’
Berry laughs. ‘You too.’