Page 19 of Below the Deck
16:50 Noah: Nope. Kai’s out in the tender, Leilani’s prepping dinner in the galley, Brett’s on the bridge. Must be Johanna?
16:50 Michaela: Weird! Didn’t think she’d have time for a break. Whoever it is, they’re checking all the crew cabins’ doors. WTF? I’m going to check
16:51 Noah: Wait a sec! My key card … Hang on. I’ll borrow Kai’s and come down
16:52 Noah: Hello?
TALIA
The drumming began just as Talia swallowed the last mouthful of her syrupy pineapple pudding. One slow, steady beat sounded out to begin with, loud enough to attract everyone’s attention. From their spot in the open-air dining terrace adjoining the five-star hotel where they’d eaten tonight, she couldn’t yet see the source of the sound, but she knew what it was.
The sound, at least, might force her back into the present moment; she’d spent the entire day – into the early evening, now – scanning her companions. Who had left her that note last night, and what the hell did they mean by it?
Get away from him before it’s too late.
She’d played the words over and over and deduced it could only be from one of Rory’s colleagues; and that whoever had written it was referring to her husband. She’d since spent all day wondering what Rory could have possibly done to offend them; what it was about him they objected to? Why did they think they needed to warn her off?
Talia was well aware of her husband’s flaws – the patronizing pats on the shoulder; the outdated jokes that usually related to women – though sometimes she pretended not to be. She also knew that Rory expected a lot from the people who worked for him, and that he’d do pretty much anything, within the bounds of the law, to keep his business on the up.
But none of that was a crime. She’d been with him long enough to know the difference between ego and actual malice, hadn’t she? And she’d always observed him to be a fair, decent boss. More than that: hefoughtfor his employees. He encouraged women to speak up for salary increases and promotions and to tell him if they’d been subjected to discrimination in an industry that remained male dominated, especially at senior levels.
He encouraged Talia too, and their daughters. She still remembered the day he’d lost the plot at their eldest daughter Nina’s primary school. He’d seen a story in the weekly parents’ newsletter about investing in facilities for a computing club. The article had the title ‘Exciting news for our boys!’
‘How dare they insinuate that girls aren’t going to be interested in a computing club? We’re paying for one of the top prep schools in London, and they send us this rubbish!’ She’d tried to calm him, suggested it was just a typo, but there was no talking him out of the blasting he gave the head teacher.Thatwas who Rory was. So what could he have done to merit this?
How ungrateful they all are.Rory wanted to make this experience exceptional for his winners, to reward them for their hard work. He’d been so excited, showing her the photos of the superyacht before Christmas.And now here they were – oneof them, anyway – trying to cause trouble between Rory and his wife.As if there isn’t enough trouble already.
Since the morning, Talia noticed, Lucy had barely looked Rory in the eye. And just now, she’d caught Sam glaring at him across the table. The tension between the two men was palpable. Only Eleni seemed warm and friendly towards both her and Rory at all times – rather ingratiatingly so, if Talia were being honest.
Perhaps she should ask Rory about the note – see if he could think of anything he’d said or done to upset anyone. But she could picture his reaction: amusement verging on annoyance, telling her she wasfretting over nothing again. And of course, drawing attention to the note might lead to more questions – more spotlight onher– and that was the last thing she needed.
‘It’s starting,’ said Rory, gulping down the remnants of his fried dough fritters –firi firi– and jumping to his feet. ‘Come on, Talia, get your lazy bottom off that chair – we don’t want to miss this.’ She stood, trying not to roll her eyes, and, in the seat next to her, caught Sam looking at her. A flash of something –recognition? a shared frustration?– passed between them briefly, and then was gone.
‘We should all go and watch, shouldn’t we?’ said Mark, standing up. With Rory and Talia taking the lead, the group walked from the terrace down onto the sand.
The drum beat steadily –tah-tum; tah-tum– its rhythm vibrating to Talia’s core. They waited a moment, then a young woman with long black hair, wearing a blood red dress, took her spot on the beach in front of her audience. A garland of white flowers was placed on her head. Behind her, four morewomen emerged from the shadows; then the same number of men, each wearing armbands made from coconut shells and wide, woven belts.
They danced together, slowly at first, their hips and shoulders rolling, their hands carving shapes in the air. Talia’s breath caught in her throat. It was stunning, yes, but more than that – her body was responding; she was turned on. A hot pulse of desire rose from her hips, her pelvis. She resisted the urge to reach for her phone to send a text: to put down in words what she was seeing and feeling.
Mercifully, the urge passed and she brought her attention back to the mesmerizing display in front of her. A man stepped into the centre of the dancers’ circle and raised a long staff, wrapped in cloth, its tip and base glistening with oil in the moonlight. Another man lit it with a torch, and the rod burst into orange flame, spitting tiny sparks in a halo of vibrant colour. Talia gasped, and Rory squeezed her shoulder; she cast a quick glance at him – he was beaming in boyish delight. From a little to her right, Eleni erupted: ‘Oh my God – wow!’
The rest of the dancers came closer to him, holding shorter torches, bending their bodies gracefully in his direction to light their own, smaller flames. Then, the man with the largest staff began to spin it – first in slow arcs, then more quickly until it became a blur, a wheel of fire orbiting his body. The others swung their smaller flames in circles, weaving spirals around their bodies, some of them resembling flowers, or geometric symbols. Talia couldn’t look away. The combination of the drumming and the hypnotic shapes created by the light from the fire had her enchanted.
Gradually the dancers slowed and the beats began to soften.One by one, they extinguished their torches in the sand with ahissand a plume of smoke.
The small crowd stood in stunned silence for a breath, before Rory erupted into applause and shouts of praise; everyone joined in. In unison, the dancers gave a low bow. Then they melted into the shadows, leaving behind thinning plumes of smoke and the smell of burning oil – and Talia with a deep, sensual heat between her thighs.
After Noah sailed them back to theLussoin the tender, Talia walked to the railings at the front of the boat, leaned back and craned her neck towards the sky.
Her fingers itched to unlock her phone, to reread the messages that sent a thrill of desire through her body.Don’t even think about it.There were too many people around – too many eyes on her. Everyone was bound to notice – if they hadn’t already – that she was clutching her phone at all times, gripping it like a raft in a storm. No; she couldn’t risk it.
Johanna stirred her from her thoughts, announcing the arrival of their cocktails. Talia picked hers up from the silver tray and took a long sip, then turned back to admire the sea and Tiahura beach beyond, enjoying the dip in temperature and the chill music mix playing from the speakers in the centre of the deck. She stared up at the sky: the night had created a clear, cloudless black canopy dotted with infinite stars. Talia gasped as a shooting star burst across the sky directly above her, the longest and brightest she’d ever seen.
Perhaps it’s a good omen. It’s telling me everything is going to be okay.
Or a bad one: it’s warning me. It’s all going to go wrong…
‘Are you all right, Talia?’ asked Lucy, eyeing her curiously from her seat on the sofa, a few feet away.
