Chapter 7 Šipan
?ipan
Wrapping her sarong over her bikini, Ana crept from the catamaran, treading as lightly as she could so as not to wake the others.
It was barely five o’clock but she felt as though she had hardly slept, the hot sheet twisting around her legs as worry after worry assailed her – some big, some small, some absolutely microscopic in the relative cool of the dawn. She needed to get a grip.
She hopped onto the deserted quayside and slid her feet into her flip-flops before heading away from the village.
To her left, the first rays of sunshine were clambering over the dark outcrops of the mountains on the mainland, and slowly, one after the other, the birds in the trees lining the road were filling the air with their song.
A new day; their first on ?ipan. What would it bring?
That was worry number one. While Kolo?ep had been just about OK in terms of the overall population, Lopud had been a big disappointment.
Only two books had been loaned out – both Croatian ones to mothers with young children.
She’d honestly expected more from the place, and on and off all night she’d been fretting about whether they’d see anyone at all today.
The way things were going, the numbers on her first weekly report to Ivana would look pretty damn thin.
She took the narrow path which forked from the road, luxuriating in the soft carpet of pine needles beneath her feet as she wound her way through the rosemary and rock rose clinging to the slope.
The sea glittered below her, inviting and azure, and she hoped she could find the tiny beach she’d spotted as they motored into the bay last night.
Ana rarely took the crystal waters of Dalmatia for granted, but the sea around the Elafiti Islands had a special clarity all its own.
Every rock, every fish, shimmered just beneath the water.
Gin-clear, Lloyd had called it last night, having run out of superlatives.
Gin-clear. Such a peculiarly English phrase, but Ana could not dispute its accuracy.
It was hard not to like Lloyd, despite her initial reservations about having a man on board.
After only a few days, it was impossible to see him as the threat to her equilibrium that she’d feared; he was gentle, kind, and certainly respectful.
She’d been shocked when he’d told them he was a widower, shocked and saddened, and she hadn’t really known what to say.
He was too damn nice to have lost his wife so young, and although he’d said he was well over the worst of it now, perhaps it explained the moments he seemed to withdraw into himself.
She tried to imagine Tata without Mama, and guessed he would be the same.
Natali was the one who remained an enigma.
Oh, she was hard-working enough and knew her job, but she was so comprehensively silent.
Did she find Ana and Lloyd too old and boring to bother with?
She seemed quite young for twenty-two, but it could be because she looked that way with her elfin face and close-cropped hair.
And did it really matter if she was quiet?
Well, it did if it meant something wasn’t right.
They were going to be together all summer, so it was important to have a happy ship as well as an efficient one.
After the library numbers, Natali was worry number two.
But was she bigging it up too much? That’s what Meri had implied when she’d spoken to her about it.
After all, the youngster did have a bit of a stammer, so maybe that made talking hard.
It was odd because she’d barely noticed it when she’d interviewed her, but Ana guessed it was one thing pulling out the stops for half an hour and quite another doing it all the time.
It would just be nice if she made a bit more of an effort to be sociable.
Should she speak to her about it? Or would that make matters worse?
That awful feeling of being out of her depth flooded through her again, Meri’s almost instant dismissal of the problem making her feel even worse.
Meri was normally right, but this time Ana couldn’t quite shake the feeling that she should be doing something.
Saying something. But what? She sighed to herself.
Perspective, that’s what she needed. But with all the other rubbish running around in her head, it was hard.
Why were even the simplest of decisions like wading through mud?
Ana reached a place where she could drop from the path onto the triangular patch of shingle.
The sun was higher now, the sea shifting and glistening just a few feet away, inviting her in with its siren call.
Unknotting her sarong, she weighed it down with her flip-flops, then made her way to the water’s edge.
She stopped, letting the coolness run across her ankles, mesmerised by the ripples around her circling ever outwards.
Small fish flicked this way and that, and she watched them for a moment before wading slowly into deeper water, the caress of the waves on her calves, her knees, her thighs.
Finally, she dipped her shoulders, surrendering to its embrace with slow arcs of breaststroke, washing the night away.
After a while she stopped and floated on her back, closing her eyes against the burnished golds of the sunrise behind her, willing the sense of oneness with nature to bring her back to herself.
The wash and pop of the water in her ears calmed her, but only a little, and soon she began to feel cold so she struck out for the shore.
Emerging from the water, rubbing the salt from her eyes, a man on the beach was absolutely the last thing Ana wanted to see.
There was no way out of the encounter; the triangle of shingle was impossibly small, and her flip-flops and sarong were just feet in front of him.
He, in his turn, seemed in no hurry to get in, lazily taking off his top and stretching to reveal a tanned, muscular chest covered in a fine fuzz of dark hair.
“Dobro jutro,” he called as she stood in the lacy edges of the waves, wringing the moisture from her hair. “What’s it like today?”
“Refreshing. Peaceful.”
His eyebrows arched. “Is that a hint?”
She nodded, retrieving her sarong as he stepped away, and wrapping it around her, aware that in a wet bikini her curvy figure left little to the imagination. “Could be. I haven’t had my coffee yet.” Had that come over as impossibly rude? She hoped not.
The low sun sparkled in his dark eyes. “Then the advantage is mine. Enjoy your day.” He strode past her and within moments she heard a gentle splash.
She turned. Strong arms and shoulders propelled him forwards towards the rocks in a smooth rhythm.
A very good swimmer, with a body to match.
But the main thing was that he’d been perceptive enough to leave her in peace.
Unlike her ex-boyfriend Pajo, who’d called her at some ungodly hour last night.
Not that she’d picked up, but she hadn’t been able to resist listening to his message telling her his job was bringing him back to Dubrovnik.
She mustn’t let it get to her; obviously he was going to be looking up old friends.
And old friends they were because they’d known each other since childhood and the way their relationship had ended had been as amicable as they come.
Maybe too amicable. Was that why she was feeling so uneasy? Did he have a particular reason for contacting her? Five years after their break-up? Did it have the significance she feared, or was it just a coincidence? Sranje! She had enough to worry about without Pajo.
Feeling well and truly grumpy, Ana walked slowly back towards the harbour.
If a swim hadn’t done the trick, then surely coffee would.
She hadn’t lied to the man on the beach – that was exactly what she needed.
She’d take her mug onto the fly deck to dry off in the warmth of the morning and she’d think about good things, soothed by the view of Su?ura? Bay, its houses clustered around the ragged expanse of grass that served as the village square, guarded by the hills which rose on either side and plunged into the water to provide the perfect anchorage.
She’d enjoy it all before the others even got up.
Everything was quiet when she boarded Dida Krila and a small amount of the calm she’d struggled to find in the water wrapped itself around her troubled soul.
Finally, finally, perhaps she could win against the night.
She mustn’t take her grouchiness out on her crew.
It would be unprofessional. And might even give them a hint that she didn’t feel fully in control, which was the very last thing she wanted.
Setting the larger d?ezva on the stove, she watched the bubbles rise and fall in the enamel jug as the water began to boil.
Spooning coffee into the smaller one, the bitterness tingled the inside of her nose when she poured the boiling water onto the grounds, setting it back on the stove and stirring, stirring, stirring, losing herself in the dark swirling liquid.
Dida Krila wobbled and Ana looked up to see Natali on the transom, Obi in her arms. So much for a peaceful coffee.
“I am s-so sorry,” said Natali.
Had her irritation shown on her face? “What for?” Somehow the mild enquiry came out a little too sharply.
“Coffee … b-breakfast … it’s my job.”
Could she not even make herself a drink in her own galley?
“Of course it isn’t, Natali.” The girl’s face fell.
Oh god, she really wasn’t being fair. The last thing she wanted was to make things worse.
“We’re a small crew. We’re a team. It’s wonderful you’ve been making us coffee in the mornings, but it certainly doesn’t hurt me to do it for once. ”
Natali turned away. “I’ll feed Obi,” she muttered. “Then m-make breakfast.”
“There’s no rush.”
“But she is h-hungry after her walk.”
Ana took a mug from the shelf and filled it. There’d be no peace with Natali banging and crashing around. “Oh well. Help yourself from the d?ezva. I’m taking mine back to bed.”
Natali nodded, her head still in the cupboard, pretending to look for the dog food, which Ana could see was right in front of her.
God, the girl made everything so bloody awkward, even when she seemed as though she was trying to be helpful.
And then, to cap it all, she heard Lloyd whistling in his cabin.
Bugger the both of them. She just had to hope that coffee and a shower would improve her mood.
She needed at least to act like a reasonable human being, even if she didn’t feel like one.