by Sandy Barker
‘I liked sleeping next to you,’ I said looking at the sky through the ceiling hatch. ‘It was nice.’
‘Nice?’
‘Yeah. Nice.’
‘Okay.’
‘What’s wrong with nice?’
‘Nothing. Nice is good.’
I stared hard at the patch of sky. How had we gone from contented to annoyed in three-point-two seconds? And, now what? How was I supposed to get myself out of there graciously? ‘Thank you for a lovely night of chastely sleeping side by side. See you at breakfast.’ Definitely not that – that was awful.
While I had an internal discussion about the most socially acceptable way to extricate myself from Josh’s cabin, he seemed to be on a totally different tack. He reached for my water bottle, took a sip, and said, ‘Now I can kiss you good morning.’ He followed up with a lovely, gentle kiss. It was a very boyfriend-girlfriend kind of a moment, and even though it felt nice – there was that word again – I couldn’t help wondering what else it meant. I didn’t want a boyfriend, and he had been particularly clear about not wanting a girlfriend. Now I really needed to get out of there.
I reached for my skirt – I had slept in my T-shirt, knickers and bra – while trying to retain some semblance of modesty. It was a little tricky, because the skirt was at the foot of the bed.
Contorting myself to reclaim it, I then shimmied into it under the covers. All the while, I avoided eye contact with Josh. I had no idea what was going on in his head, but whatever it was, I didn’t want to know. I was zipping up when he climbed out of bed and slipped on a pair of shorts. He had slept in his jocks by the way.
‘Okay then …’ he said, obtusely. Was he wishing me gone, or wishing I would chill the fuck out? If it was the latter, he was right – I did need to chill the fuck out. I climbed out of bed fully dressed, and then we were standing face to face in the tiny space – actually it was more like face to chest – his bare chest, his bare sexy chest. Damn him and his chest. Did I mention I really needed to get out of there?
‘Okay, well, thanks. That was nice,’ I said in a whisper. Was I for real? Again with the nice!
‘Yep,’ he replied, more curtly than necessary. I ignored his tone and gently turned the doorknob. I eased the door open a crack and looked out into the common space. Deserted – thank god. I completed my one-metre walk of shame – even though I had nothing to be ashamed of – and eased open the door of my cabin quietly, so I wouldn’t wake Hannah. Again, I had no need for stealth; her bunk was unslept in and the cabin was empty. I thanked god again, even though I don’t believe in him – or her – or whatever.
Where is she? I wondered. I concluded almost immediately that no matter where she was, good on her! I dragged my bag from the far end of the bunk and dug through it for something to put on. I chose a clean tank top and a nearly clean pair of shorts. Stepping out of the skirt, I scrutinised its level of filthiness.
I had worn it twice already, but there was no way to wash clothes on the trip and I still needed at least another wear out of it. I rated it as wearable and put it back into my bag. Only clothes that reeked or had been spilt on went into the plastic washing bag. And I’d only open that when I got back to London. The skirt was fine. And I knew I had enough clean knickers to get through the whole trip – twice over. I grabbed a fresh pair before tucking my bag out of the way.
Then I stripped off, stepped into the tiny bathroom and turned on the water. The best part about Hannah being out was that I was guaranteed a hot shower, and even though the water flow was little more than a trickle, it felt great.
While I showered, I thought about Josh. Okay – that came out wrong. I thought about our situation. I liked our little slumber party, but the moment with the good morning kiss was a little too cosy for comfort. Quite possibly we would become lovers, but even if we did, we needed to steer clear of the coupley stuff. I mean, what could happen, really? I’d probably never see him again after the trip. He was cute, though. And even if I did try to keep my distance, for the foreseeable future he was sleeping approximately a metre plus a few millimetres of plywood away. Crap.
The day before, the group had decided we’d stay another day and night on Naxos and then leave the following morning. I was fine with that, but they all wanted to go out on the scooters again. Another day riding around dusty roads, waiting to get rained on? I was less than fine with that. And it wasn’t just the rain. Scooter riding was a super coupley thing to do.
The five of them – Hannah still hadn’t made an appearance – stood on the dock, looking at me expectantly, while I stared back at them from the boat. Marie had her hands on her hips. ‘So, you’re not coming?’
Why did I feel guilty? Wasn’t this my holiday too? Couldn’t I do whatever I wanted with my day?
‘Uh, no. I’m going to stay here and read, maybe do some journal writing …’ Marie wasn’t buying it. ‘And, wait for Hannah.’ It was a last-ditch effort to convince them – and probably myself – that I preferred staying on the boat to riding on the back of a scooter with my arms wrapped around Josh.
Marie actually tutted when she shook her head at me; I knew I was going to hear about it later. She turned and put on her helmet, and the others did the same. Except Josh. Josh ran back across the gangplank – quite nimbly, I noticed – and planted a big kiss right on my lips. ‘See you later, gorgeous,’ he said. And before I could reply he was back on dry land, straddling his scooter and putting his helmet on. My mouth had formed a silent O and as soon as I realised, I closed it.
Definitely boyfriend behaviour. And everyone saw it. Double crap – no, make that triple crap!
*
I was sipping hot tea out of a plastic mug and half-reading one of the magazines Hannah had brought with her, when – speak of the devil – she sauntered onto the boat and plonked herself down on the bench opposite me. She was still wearing the clothes she’d had on the day before, and her sunglasses looked like they were glued to her face. I doubted they were coming off until she’d had caffeine and a shower, regardless of which came first.
‘Good night?’ I asked as I took another sip of tea.
‘Excellent night,’ she said, her usual frown exchanged for a grin.
‘So … don’t leave me hanging.’
She nodded towards the lower deck. ‘Anyone else here?’
‘Just us. The others went out on the scooters for the day.’
‘And you didn’t want to go?’
‘I wanted to read,’ I replied, holding up the magazine.
‘Uh huh.’ I could feel her eyes scrutinising me behind the big lenses of her sunglasses.
‘Don’t change the subject,’ I said, doing my best to change the subject. ‘What did you get up to last night?’
‘And this morning,’ she retorted with a sly grin. She was enjoying herself.
‘Okay, and this morning.’
‘Stu.’ One word, but it spoke volumes.
‘The skipper of the other boat?’
‘Yep.’ She seemed particularly pleased with herself and considering that Stu was skippering a boat of six single women, I had to give her props for leaping to the head of the queue.
‘Wow. So, you’ve gotta be, like, the most hated woman in the Greek Islands.’ I couldn’t help but smile at her.
‘Yep – well at least the most envied.’
‘So, Stuart … how was it?’
‘Great fun. And you know what? I knew those sour cows could hear us, and I didn’t care! Not my boat, not my family on the sea. And, let’s be honest, I really needed that.’ We both erupted into laughter.
‘Good for you, Hannah.’
‘And?’
‘And what?’
‘And what about you? You and Josh finally get together?’ I bit my lip. How much did I want to tell Hannah? Nothing – I wanted to tell her nothing – as much as I wished there was nothing to tell. I was more convinced than ever that it was not a good idea to hook up with Josh on this trip.
And then I thought, Fuck it
, I’ll tell her.
‘Sort of. I mean, we kissed. And I slept in his cabin last night – but we didn’t have sex or anything. Actually, I didn’t know you weren’t in our cabin until this morning, but even so, I am not having sex on this boat. This is my family on the sea – and you don’t shit where you eat and all that.’ I was rambling, as I have a tendency to do when I am defending myself. Not that Hannah was judging me – I mean, she didn’t appear to be – which was nice, because she’d been a little judgey up until then. And not that it mattered anyway. I was judging myself enough for both of us.
She let my verbal diarrhoea dribble off and appraised me frankly. ‘You know what?’ she asked.
‘What?’
‘You’re really hard on yourself.’ Hannah, who had only known me a few days, had me properly pegged – and it was exactly what Josh had said. And they were right. I was hard on myself.
I could congratulate Hannah for hooking up with the much-in-demand skipper of the other boat, but my chaste sleepover with Josh was sending me into some sort of meltdown. I mean, I was in Greece on a beautiful island with super cool people, and I was sitting on the boat reading a stupid magazine! And that’s when I realised I was paying a ridiculous, self-imposed penance.
‘Go get showered. We’re going into town,’ I declared.
Hannah jumped up at my instruction. ‘That a girl,’ she said, ducking below deck to get freshened up. I closed the magazine and looked out at the other boats on the marina. I didn’t know where the thing with Josh was going – or where it could go – but for some reason it felt like he had leapt ahead from being a friend to being a boyfriend, and it was creeping me out. I had to tell him that. We needed to be cool and friendly and not get in too deep. I could do that. I could be honest. I could be cool.
Hannah was back up on deck within twenty minutes, which impressed me, especially because she looked better than she must have felt. ‘Coffee,’ she said, confirming my assumption.
‘It’ll be our first stop.’
Coffee, it turned out, was our first stop and our third and our fifth. It wasn’t that Greek coffee was particularly good – just that Hannah seemed to need a lot of it. In between hits of caffeine, we shopped – her choice, not mine, but the shopping wasn’t bad. Bags, shoes, gauzy cotton tops, ceramics, silver jewellery, tacky souvenirs. I bought some of the latter to hand out to friends back home. Don’t disparage the humble fridge magnet; I know people who go crazy for that stuff.
We stopped for a late lunch overlooking the marina at around two o’clock, choosing a little taverna with tables outside, so we could watch the world go by. And by ‘world’ I mean English tourists we could make fun of.
When that got old, Hannah stabbed a piece of tomato with her fork and addressed the elephant on the island. ‘So, besides having a slumber party, what’s happening with Josh?’ She shoved the tomato into her mouth and chewed vigorously. I pushed a piece of cucumber around my bowl.
‘The short answer is, I don’t know.’ I looked at out the water and watched a fisherman steer his boat towards the shore. ‘Last night we went to dinner with Gary and Marie, and we had such a good time – they are so fun – aren’t they so fun?’ I was stalling. She gave me the hand signal for ‘get on with it’. ‘And then Josh and I stayed up and talked.’ She threw me a look over the top of her sunglasses. ‘Yes, just talking,’ I insisted. Hannah went back to her horiatiki.
‘I feel like I can tell him anything, you know? I can’t think of the last time I was with a guy I could talk to like that, without having to worry about sounding self-absorbed, or boring, or even stupid.’
‘You’re not boring or stupid,’ she said, punctuating her point by pointing her fork at me.
‘Thank you. I mean, I do know that, but there are those guys, you know, and they can make you feel so small.’ My mind flicked to Neil – the prick. He had this incredible way of making me feel insignificant. Hannah nodded, seeming to understand. ‘But Josh, he’s my friend. An actual friend – like you.’ I could tell she liked that. ‘Even if that’s all that happens on this trip – we end up being friends – that’s great. But there’s this intense attraction. I mean, he’s so fucking cute—’
‘Puppies are cute,’ Hannah interjected.
‘Okay, then what? Handsome?’ She screwed up her nose and shook her head.
‘Sexy?’
‘If you say so.’
‘In any case, I think he’s extremely attractive, but even though he’s not as young as I first thought he was, he’s still a lot younger than me, and he lives in the US, and the likelihood of me ever seeing him again after this trip is like, zero. So, with all of that, I don’t think anything should happen between us.’
‘So, just sleep with him.’
‘Well, that’s the thing, see? I don’t want a boyfriend, and Josh made this whole song and dance about not wanting a serious girlfriend, but this morning he got all boyfriend-y on me and it was weird.’
‘Wow. You’ve got a lot going on.’ I nodded. ‘You going to finish that?’ she said, motioning towards my plate of salad. I had barely touched it. I shook my head and she leaned across and helped herself to a hunk of feta. ‘I can’t get enough of this stuff. I love the feta here.’
‘So, what should I do?’
‘Look, I am the last person who should give you advice about men. But, this guy seriously likes you.’ I started to protest, but she cut me off. ‘No matter what he says about not wanting a girlfriend and all that – that’s bullshit. He is super into you, and if you only want to be friends, you should tell him and keep your distance. And I’m not just saying that so I can have you to myself.’
I smiled. ‘On the other hand, Sarah, if you like this guy – if it feels different from all the crap you’ve been through before. If he makes you feel good, and you think he’s cute or sexy or whatever, then maybe you should stop worrying about it and see what happens.’
‘But—’
‘There is no but. You asked for my advice. That’s what you should do. Stop analysing the situation and enjoy it. We’re in the middle of the fucking Greek Islands, and quite frankly it’s turning into Riverdale around here.’ She had a point. ‘So, chill the fuck out, okay?’
‘Oh-kay. You know, Hannah, you really should get laid more often. I kinda like this side of you.’
‘Agreed. I’m all for getting laid more often than never. Too bad Stu and the girls sailed on this morning.’
‘Where to?’
‘Syros.’
‘I think Duncan said we’re going there next.’
‘Let’s hope so. I could definitely go me some more of the sea captain!’
‘Yeah, it’s been a while for me too.’
‘Maybe not for much longer.’ She had a sly look on her face.
I pointed a finger at her. ‘Do not say a word to anyone about this. No one. Promise?’ She was right. I did sound like I was in an episode of Riverdale, but I didn’t want her playing matchmaker and I needed her to promise she wouldn’t. It was bad enough that Marie had intentions along those lines.
Hannah crossed her fingers over her heart, haphazardly. ‘Cross my heart, blah, blah, blah.’
‘I’m serious, Hannah. I mean it!’
‘Anybody want a peanut?’ We both burst out laughing. I liked this Hannah. I really did hope she got laid again – if only for selfish motives.
*
‘How was it?’ I asked as five weary-but-happy-looking travellers crossed the gangplank onto the boat and plonked themselves down. I was sitting exactly where I’d been when they’d left, and I wondered if they wondered if I’d spent the whole day there.
Hannah stuck her head out from below deck as the others took up spots around the deck. ‘You’re back! Just in time for cocktails. Who’s in?’ Six hands went up, including mine. ‘I’m already making yours,’ she said, scolding me playfully. ‘The rest of you, give me a couple of minutes.’
‘I’ll help,’ Duncan called as he unfolded himself fro
m his seat. I was impressed by how much energy he put into being hospitable, even at the end of a long day.
‘Sooo, how was it?’ I asked again to no one in particular. ‘What did you get up to?’ Gary, never one to shy from telling a story, took me through a blow-by-blow of the day. It sounded like they’d been to some secluded parts of the island. And apparently the weather had held up, so at least there was no repeat of the previous day’s drenching. I kept catching Josh looking at me.
He had a goofy grin on his face – I didn’t know what to make of it.
Duncan started handing drinks up to those of us on deck, and when we all had one in hand, he and Hannah joined us. ‘To Naxos!’ he said, holding his plastic cup aloft. ‘To Naxos!’ we repeated, tapping our cups against each other’s. I had a sip. Hannah must have taken her cue from Duncan’s bartending practices. The drink was like rocket fuel. ‘So,’ said Duncan, ‘I got a text today from a guy I know – he used to be my boss, actually – and he’s here on Naxos and wanted to meet up with us for dinner tonight, if that’s okay with you lot?’
There was general agreement from the group. ‘He was your boss?’ asked Josh.
‘Yeah. He has a yacht in the Caribbean, and I used to be the skipper. He only ever used it a few times a year, so for the rest of the time, I lived on the yacht and took care of it. And when he was heading down, I’d have some lead time to hire a crew and stock it with everything we needed – you know.’
‘So, essentially, you lived on a rich guy’s boat and then a few times a year you had to work?’ asked Hannah, incredulous.
‘Pretty much, yeah.’ The rest of us exchanged looks – the lucky bugger.
‘What kind of a yacht are we talking? Like this one?’
Duncan snorted. ‘Sorry. I don’t mean to come off like a dick, but no, not like this one. It was a forty-metre boat – not a sailboat – one of those boats with a living room and a full kitchen and five bedrooms – that kind of boat.’
Six pairs of eyes were glued to Duncan and no one spoke for a moment. Gary broke the silence with: ‘Well, what in the hell are you doing here with us, if you could be there skippering that boat?’ It was a good question.
