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‘You forgot?’ Delilah feigned horror. ‘How is that possible?’
‘I’m so sorry …’
She pushed her braids over her shoulder. ‘Honestly, I think I’m owed some kind of consolation prize. I was bidding all that money and I didn’t know a thing about his accident! I just loved his art.’ She leaned in. ‘I think Pierre was tipped off somehow. About Yennin’s death. Maybe he’s got an inside man. I mean, he practically tripled his investment in one night because of what happened. Still, at least I can buy one now. It’s still early enough to catch him on the up and up. Right, Olivia?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘I’d rather he was alive,’ said Lucinda, putting down her glass, still half full. ‘Excuse me.’ She turned to leave, but not before Olivia spotted the grimace on her face. The look of disgust.
Olivia debated going after her, but Delilah stopped her, her long fingernails digging into Olivia’s forearm. ‘Don’t bother. Because of what happened, Yennin has what every artist wants.’
‘What’s that?’ Olivia asked.
Delilah licked her lips. ‘Immortality. You can’t put a price on that. Isn’t that right, Greg?’
He leaned in. ‘Right. Although from what I heard, he was off his face on drugs. Not exactly an accident ifyou’re driving in that condition. Someone should have given him the number of a good taxi service.’
‘No!’ Delilah clasped at her necklace. ‘Olivia, is that true?’
Olivia swallowed. ‘All I know is what the police said. That it was an accident.’ That wasn’t entirely true. The police knew he had been under the influence of MDMA and who knows what else. But she didn’t want to repeat that to anyone – especially not a journalist and a potential buyer. She looked up as two other VIPs, Robert and Aida, walked into the room. ‘Please excuse me while I greet our other guests.’
‘Any more cocktails?’ Delilah asked.
Olivia nodded. ‘I’ll have another round sent over.’
Instead of walking over to the Freedmans, Olivia went to the far corner of the bar, downing a glass of water as she attempted to compose herself. All the people she was supposed to schmooze were in this room, but she couldn’t stop thinking about how much she wished Aaron was with her. She wasn’t sure she was cut out for this kind of networking. She was shaken by the look she’d seen on Lucinda’s face. She wished she could return to her cabin, to the friendly atmosphere of her cabinmates.
Anything not to continue to be reminded of the night that Yennin had died, and her part in it.
As far as she was concerned, the evening couldn’t end fast enough.
24
When the next day dawned, it was clear that they had arrived in true Antarctica. Vast white cliffs rose out of deep blue water, towering above even the highest decks of theVigil, making her seem like a toy boat bobbing in a bath.
The Aitcho Islands had been mere specks of dirt adrift in the ocean compared to what they were seeing now, sailing through the Gerlache Strait. She’d expected the change in landscape, having listened to a lecture after breakfast. The glaciologist on board, Dr Vance, had given his postponed talk about the varieties of ice they would encounter. Brash, pancake, bergy bits – all names for different types of sea ice. He told them to expect terminal moraines plunging into the water, to watch out for the glaciers sloughing ice like a second skin. These ‘calvings’, had changed in nature over the past decade, and with the increasing global temperature sometimes the continent shed chunks of ice as large as their ship. Over eighty per cent of the glaciers in Antarctica were in retreat, the calvings a far too regular occurrence. It sounded bloody terrifying but impossible to fathom; her mind couldn’t wrap itself around the scale of the problem.
Everything felt foggy. Muddled. She hadn’t slept well after the party, unease swirling in her stomach. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a full night’s sleep. It reminded her of the very worst pointsof her burnout. But tonight they were due to host the special showcase – on the evening they were going to cross the Antarctic Circle and see the midnight sun. At least there hadn’t been any further direct attacks.
She focused on the view. It was spectacular. The sun made the water sparkle like multifaceted diamonds, the ice impossibly blue where it was scraped by the waves.
The captain had to be careful as he navigated through. The passage was surprisingly narrow, the cliffs – and the mountains behind – giving the place an intimate feel. Wildlife was still abundant here. It was no longer uncommon to see whale backs breach the surface, plumes of water from their blowholes misting in the air.
She was too cold now. It came on so quickly, even through her layers. The bright sunshine was deceptive, making it feel like she should be warm. Instead, she felt her fingers stiffening inside her thin gloves, the moisture on her eyelashes and the inside of her nostrils starting to crystallize. She moved back inside.
She remembered the hot drinks station in the Panorama lounge. Tea. Tea would be good.
The room was almost deserted; most people were eating lunch or resting in their cabins. She made herself a steaming cup of Earl Grey tea, loading it up with far more sugar than she would back at home. The coffee was tempting, especially combined with the lack of sleep, but she knew that too much caffeine would increase her jitters. She was on edge enough as it was.
She looked out of the enormous windows, scouring the waves, looking for more penguins – or maybe the tell-tale puff from a whale spout, but for the moment the water was quiet. But she knew the ocean was a living,breathing thing, with its own whims and desires. When they had crossed the Drake Passage, it was angry with them, wanting to punish. When they were kayaking, curiosity got the better of it, and creatures popped up to say hello. For now, it was shy, hiding rather than displaying its wonders. The ocean was an artist, shifting its canvas according to its mood.
She used to think it was the water that she was afraid of. It was the water that had taken her father. But the truth was, the ocean was too vast to be blamed. Maybe one day she could even look at it and feel calm again.
She wished that for her mother too. Neither of them had been the same since they had stopped going to the water. It was hard that something that had been so integral to their lives, so core to their beloved family memories, had become so cursed.
She couldn’t help but wonder if her mum could visit the ocean again and feel a sense of peace … Maybe that would help. Something that had once been a source of pain could become a place of relaxation, maybe even fun, again. It might be possible.
She thought back to the last time she’d visited her mum. It had been after Yennin’s death. After she’d been forced to leave Pendle. She’d delayed visiting the care home, avoiding the conversation about how she would continue to afford it without a job. But then Aaron had invited her to join the Hunt Advisory, starting with the trip to Antarctica. She had been worried her wariness of boats would prevent her from agreeing, but it was a solution to her money issues.