Dubrovnik #2
The frond-like tail wagged. The chocolate-brown eyes glowed with pleasure. Natali put down the carrier bag and massaged her fingers before scratching the top of Obi’s head.
“Right. Come on. We’re almost there.”
The harbour front was crowded with tourists, and even to Natali the aromas drifting from the restaurants were tantalising: frying fish, rich tomato sauces …
Her stomach rumbled. She hoped the catamaran had a reasonable galley – and she hoped there would be something decent for supper too.
Auntie Stela wasn’t much of a cook, and Natali hadn’t been able to afford proper ingredients to put together a meal for them both. This job was starting just in time.
But now she could see the catamaran, her pace slowed so that Obi was forging ahead.
Ana had seemed nice enough when she interviewed her, but she hoped her new boss didn’t expect too much.
Oh, Natali could do the job all right; she knew about boats and their engines, about sailing, about cleaning in confined spaces …
she just wasn’t very good company. That’s what they’d said when she’d crewed before anyway, when she wouldn’t go out with the others.
But what was the point when you didn’t like drinking and could never think of anything to say?
Luckily Obi didn’t mind. She brightened.
Obi would enjoy being around different people, and as long as her dog was happy, and they had a roof over their heads, everything else would be fine.
As she approached the boat she spied Ana through the open cabin window, stirring a large pot on the hob.
That was very good news. Natali jumped onto the transom, then put down her carrier bag before lifting Obi after her.
She wouldn’t let her off her lead just yet; she needed to get the dog used to being onboard first.
Ana came out to meet them. “Great to see you, Natali. I’m so glad you could come tonight; we can all get to know each other over supper, then tomorrow I can show you the ins and outs of the boat and our weekly itinerary.”
Natali smiled. “Th-th-thank you.” She was acutely aware she should most likely say something else, but her mind went blank.
Ana crouched down. “And this must be your little dog. What’s his name?”
“It’s her. And it’s Obi.” Obi already had her paws on Ana’s knees and was looking up at her adoringly. What it must be like to make friends so easily.
“Well she’s gorgeous. So tiny too. Although I’m not quite sure what I expected. What breed is she?”
“I don’t think she’s a b-breed exactly, but most of her is a sort of English terrier. A Y-Yorkshire one.” She always struggled with the foreign word.
“Wherever she comes from, it’s a first for me having a dog aboard, but I’ll try anything once. I’ll show you your cabin, so you can at least put your bags down. Now, let me take your case.”
Ana couldn’t be nicer, Natali thought. She just wished she knew how to tell her how hard she found it to make conversation. She didn’t want to come over as standoffish, but somehow, although the words she wanted to say were there in her head, her mouth wouldn’t move to shape them. She was so dumb!
She followed Ana down the stairs, and once they were in the hull’s passageway Ana invited Natali to take Obi off her lead.
“I want her to feel at home,” she explained, “and she’s so small she’ll be safe down here.
You and I are sleeping on this side, and I’ve put Lloyd on the other.
He’s the librarian and he’s English. Like Obi. ” Ana laughed.
“Oh.” It would be even worse if they had to communicate in a foreign language.
Or would it? Perhaps in a way it might be better too.
Her basic English was OK, really it was, but Ana and this Lloyd person didn’t know that.
It was the perfect excuse not to have to say too much.
This job was really important and the last thing she wanted was the others to realise how stupid she was.
If she just kept her head down and did the practical stuff well, she was sure it would be OK. It had to be.
Hearing footsteps in the salon above, Obi’s ears stood to attention, and she dashed through Natali’s legs and up the steps.
“Wow! Can she jump,” said Ana.
Natali nodded, turning to follow Obi. “She’s very quick.”
By the time she was halfway up the steps, Natali could see Obi clambering all over the denim-clad bended knees of a tall man with silver-blond hair, in a desperate attempt to reach his crotch.
She knew it was a perfectly normal dog-thing, but all the same it was horribly embarrassing.
He was taking it well though, because he slid to the floor, and welcomed Obi onto his lap, tousling the fur that formed a tan and beige curtain around her head.
“So who are you, little one?” he asked the dog in English, for all the world as if he expected her to understand and answer.
Natali hesitated. If she was going to pretend, she had to start now. “S-s-sorry. Not good English. My dog.”
The man nodded, running his hand over his damp hair. He had an unusually even face, with a long, straight nose, small mouth and a high forehead, currently lined with multiple furrows.
“Kako se zove tvoj pas?” he asked, with a creditably good accent. Surely, surely, he didn’t speak Croatian? None of the foreigners she’d met had more than a few words, at best. If he’d asked her name, well, that was a standard phrase, but to ask what her dog was called …
Sranje. Sranje, sranje, sranje. If only she’d shut up about her English. Why, oh why, did she always get herself into this sort of mess?
He was waiting for her answer. “Obi. Sh-she’s called Obi.”
He looked down at the dog, who was gazing adoringly up at him. “Hello Obi, I’m Lloyd.” He said that in Croatian too.
Damn and damn again.
Natali retreated down the steps to unpack, only a little mollified when Obi zoomed after her.