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Olivia shook her head. ‘The internet’s not great.’
‘They were talking about this in the lounge after you left. Apparently the storm isn’t helping,’ said Yara. ‘I haven’t been able to upload to my TikTok since we got on board.’
‘Trust me, a little bit of separation could be a good thing,’ said Patty. ‘You’ll have something to talk about once you’ve been married for twenty-three years. You’ll be yapping his ear off about penguins until death do you part – so help him!’
‘Where’s Annalise?’ Olivia asked.
‘She’s helping Janine down to the medical bay to get some anti-seasickness medication. Poor chick didn’t seem that prepared for a trip to Antarctica. I wonder if this was a last-minute decision, like that honeymooning couple.’ Patty craned her neck to look around the room. ‘Speaking of whom, I don’t see Christa in here either. Maybe she and her husband are also down with seasickness – or taking advantage of that double cabin you gave up.’ She waggled her eyebrows salaciously.
Olivia couldn’t help but laugh.
When their first course arrived – a variation on a prawn cocktail – Olivia took her opportunity to look around. The loudest voice in the room was easily Cutler’s. He and Ingrid sat at a long table at the head of the dining room, alongside Robert and Aida, and some others that Olivia didn’t recognize.
‘Must be a bit intimidating to have your boss on board,’ said Olivia, as she noticed Patty’s eyes trained on Cutler.
‘I’m lucky to have been given the opportunity. I’m hoping to get a chance to thank him properly,’ she said, before taking a forkful of prawns. ‘Pioneer has been my whole world, and yet I’ve only met him in person once, years ago. I’m sure he has no clue who I am.’
‘But he invited you?’
‘I think Annalise might have more to do with that than me.’ Patty took a long sip of wine. Olivia sensed she might have hit on a sensitive topic, and she tried to think of something else to move the conversation on.
The boat lurched and she didn’t have to worry any more. Plates slid along the dining table, and somewhere nearby a glass salt shaker smashed to the floor.
Olivia squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the swell to pass. When she opened them again, her heart hammering in her chest, she saw Patty’s concerned look.
‘I’m not the biggest fan of boats,’ Olivia said, trying to relax her hands from their vice-like grip around her cutlery.
‘You poor thing. Want to go down to the medical bay to get some Dramamine? I can take you …’
Olivia shook her head. ‘I don’t think it’s seasickness. But I’m not sure I can eat much more.’
‘I’ll take your portion,’ said Patty. ‘Something about international travel always makes me starving.’
The ocean swells continued to rise throughout dinner, and Patty decided to turn in at the same time as Olivia, skipping the first scheduled lecture. The poor glaciologist – one Dr Arthur Vance – was down to give a talk called ‘Ice, Ice, Baby’ about the variety of icebergs, and by the sounds of things was going to have a pretty empty audience.
Olivia was grateful to see her suitcase had arrived. Aaron’s presumably had been taken into storage – there was no room for it in the tiny cabin.
Olivia clambered up the precarious ladder. That’s when she noticed that someone had been in to turn down the beds. Or not turn down exactly. They had placed a bolster along each edge of her bunk, so that the mattress curled up on both sides, like she was sleeping in a half-pipe. It took a large swell for her to realize why: it was so that she didn’t roll out of the bed.
Outside their porthole, the thick cloud had built up so it obscured the sky, turning it an unsightly sallow yellow. The waves were capped with white, like foam at the mouth of a rabid animal. The storm the captain had mentioned. She dragged across the blackout curtains, obscuring the view, and huddled down under the blankets. Olivia willed herself to sleep. But it was impossible with the crashing of the waves. The lurch that accompanied every swell. And the occasional bang as unsecured items – a camera, Patty’s glasses case, a toothbrush holder in the bathroom – tumbled to the floor. Picking the top bunk had been another mistake. The rocking had to be worse up here. Plus she had to stay rigid, herarms and legs stiff by her side, because if she rolled out of the bolsters she would have a nasty fall. Not to mention that now she was in bed, all the thoughts she’d kept at bay came crashing in, her mind unable to stop racing over the events of the day.
Why hadn’t she gone with Aaron?
Why hadn’t he been in touch?
Was he OK?
Who had tried to attack her during the muster?
She flipped over, trying to tuck in as close to the wall as possible. The ship lifted and her stomach with it. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut again. But when it didn’t work, she opened her eyes and tried to fixate on a point in front of her. She thought about yoga, controlling her breath, regulating it.
This was shock and fear. Like those first few steps into a freezing-cold loch. She blinked in surprise. She hadn’t thought about that in years, another memory she had suppressed. Her dad had swum every morning when he was at home or at sea, rarely missing a day. When Olivia was on school holidays, she’d join him, squealing as she jumped in but loving it once her body had adjusted to the cold. Then they’d get out and snuggle up into robes, sipping hot chocolate before getting dressed again and heading back out into the wilderness. Sailing on the loch they’d swum in. Or kayaking or going for a hike.
Thinking about him calmed her down. He’d always believed in her. Always thought she was capable. And she’d thought more about him in the few hours she’d been on the way to Antarctica than she had in the past decade. The trip could be worth it, if only to recapturethose memories of him. And his memory could inspire her to be strong.
There was bound to be a reasonable explanation for Aaron’s lack of contact. Reasonable. Logical. Cool under pressure. Those words had always described her, and she clung to them now, as if they could weigh down the panic that made her want to cry and scream and demand to be flown back to Ushuaia immediately.
She made herself a promise. If she didn’t hear from Aaron within the next twenty-four hours, she would ask Captain Enzo to radio the Argentinian police. A concrete plan. That’s what she needed. And while she was on the ship, she had to focus on the job at hand: making sure the showcase was a success.