now
In the corridor at the Maritime Rescue Centre, Shell and Lana stand close. There was a time on board the yacht when Lana didn’t fully trust Shell—didn’t trust any of the crew. But what about now?
Lana asks, “You said that at the time you believed Joseph’s death was an accident. Has something changed?”
“I’m not sure . . . I just . . .”
“You mentioned Aaron,” Lana encourages.
“I don’t want to talk ill of him,” Shell says, hesitating.
Lana understands. It would be wrong to sully his name when he’s still missing at sea; yet it’s also important that they share any facts that might help them move nearer to the truth. “Please, just tell me what you think.”
Shell nods, tucking a strand of blond hair behind her ear. “Remember the morning after Joseph disappeared? Aaron came up on deck with an injured shoulder, saying he’d fallen while having a shower.”
Lana nods.
“It didn’t strike me as odd at the time, because I knew Aaron had been drinking hard that night, so it was very possible he’d slipped and injured himself. A couple of months later, we were on our next passage and Aaron started laying into Heinrich for wasting water to wash with. It reminded me of something—Aaron never showered on passage. He couldn’t bear to waste the water.” Shell shakes her head lightly. “As I said, it’s probably nothing—maybe Aaron did shower that night. The comment just niggled at me, that’s all.”
Lana thinks about Aaron’s appearance the morning after Joseph disappeared. He looked haggard; his face was covered in thick stubble and there were deep grooves beneath his bloodshot eyes. She vaguely recalls that there was a stale, unwashed smell around him, and she had shifted position so as not to be downwind of him.
Then she thinks of something else. “That bloodstain I found on deck. Aaron said it was from his shoulder. But if he injured it in the shower, the water would’ve washed the blood away—and then he taped it up. Why would it have bled up on deck?”
Shell looks as if she has considered this, too. Eventually she says, “Maybe the blood didn’t come from Aaron’s shoulder.”
• • •
“That group vote,” Shell says. “I’ve thought about it a lot since. You and Denny were right—we should’ve reported Joseph’s death. Looking back, I think everyone was so scared of losing The Blue . . . of having to return to their old lives.” She pauses. “I know I was.”
Lana feels the weight of that admission. For most of the crew, The Blue had become a home of sorts, an escape, and the idea of losing it was terrifying.
“The guilt affected us all. We never took on any more crew, did you know that?” she asks, looking at Lana.
“I saw the crew list when I arrived today—and was surprised to see all of your names still on it. I know Kitty’s money must’ve run out months ago, and Heinrich said he could only afford to stay until Palau.”
Shell nodded. “Kitty took out a loan, and one of Heinrich’s relatives died and left him some money. I’m pleased they both stayed. It was like that passage bound us all, and we didn’t want anyone else walking in after what’d happened.” Shell pauses, looking at Lana. “I’m sorry about the way you left The Blue, though. I know Kitty found it very hard afterwards. She e-mailed you . . .”
“I didn’t read them.” She wants to explain that it was too difficult, after the way Kitty betrayed her, but Lana can’t seem to find the words. Knowing that Kitty could be out in the sea right now, fighting to live, made everything that happened between them feel inconsequential.
Shell says, “Do you remember when I used to write those postcards to my parents? I’d try and write from every island we visited. It bothered you that my parents never responded, didn’t it?”
Lana nods.
“But for me it was worth it because at least I was doing something. I was trying. That’s how Kitty felt with you.”
A lump forms in the back of Lana’s throat as she pictures Kitty sitting in dimly lit Internet cafés in all corners of the world, trying to communicate how she felt.
“She was so sorry, Lana. Whatever happens, you should know that.”
Lana feels a tightening in her throat as she battles to swallow the lump of emotion.
Farther down the corridor, Heinrich steps out of the room where he was seeing the medic.
“All okay?” Shell says, turning towards him.
“Fine,” he says. When he reaches them, he says in a low voice, “What did you decide? About Joseph’s sister?” He looks anxious—his eyes darting between Shell and Lana.
Shell says simply, “Let’s wait and see what the others have to say when they’re rescued.”
Lana has forgotten about Shell’s optimism. She wants to believe that Kitty and Aaron will survive—she has to believe that. But as time ticks on, her doubts grow and strengthen.
Shell places a hand on Lana’s arm and squeezes. “I should get back to my parents now. There’s a small canteen in the next wing of the building. If you want company, that’s where we’ll be.”
Shell and Heinrich move away along the corridor, Heinrich leaning in close to Shell, saying something Lana cannot hear. It reminds her of how close they were on board, how protective they were of each other.
As she watches the two of them, Lana realizes she was wrong ever to doubt Shell. She was a good friend to her during her time on The Blue, and was always open and honest.
But could she say the same about Heinrich?