Page 43

‘OK. If you change your mind, just let me know.’

Up until a few minutes ago, the idea might have appealed. I could have asked Nathan to help me into a wetsuit, which might have been fun. However, not only have I made a fool of myself in front of Mrs Barry and the rest of the group; I’m also unnerved by the text and the way Nathan reacted to it.

There’s only one thought at the front of my mind as I glance at my watch: how many hours until this trip is over?

22

The feeling of relief when we finally step off the boat at the end of the day is immense. Although I did feel a bit better after my vomiting episode, the feeling of nausea never fully left me, and I suspect the only reason I didn’t throw up again was that I was determined not to give Mrs Barry the pleasure. Although she didn’t come over and talk to me during this afternoon’s session, it was impossible to miss the looks of faux-pity in her eyes every time she glanced in my direction. Whatever the competition was between us, I think we can assume I lost.

‘How are you feeling now?’ Nathan asks quietly as we board the bus for the journey back to Cape Town.

‘Still a little fragile,’ I admit.

‘I definitely owe you, but something tells me a slap-up dinner isn’t top of your priority list at the moment.’

‘Don’t. Unless you want to be wearing whatever is still in my stomach. Did it live up to your expectations, though?’

‘Oh, it was amazing. Everything I could have wished for and more.’

We’re interrupted by a beep from his phone and my curiosity ramps up several notches as he pulls it out and unlocks it. I’m just able to make out the first few words before he deletes the message, but they’re enough to tell me that it’s from the same mystery sender.

‘You’re popular today,’ I remark, making sure I keep my voice light.

‘Mm,’ he replies noncommittally, slipping the phone back into his pocket.

Now what? Do I push him and say that I saw the preview of the first message? Although he’s trying to play it cool, I know him well enough by now to tell that he’s rattled and, to my surprise, I find myself feeling surprisingly irritated. Even though I’ve shared some of my most personal stuff with him, I’ve realised that I don’t actually know that much about him beyond the basics. It hasn’t bothered me so far, and I know this sounds irrational, but I kind of feel like he owes it to me to trust me if there’s something big going on in his life, the same way I trusted him.

Nathan is silent as the bus sets off, evidently lost in his thoughts, and his facial expression is giving nothing away. I’d like to think that he’s reflecting on his encounter with the shark, which obviously moved him greatly, but I suspect his mind is on the mystery caller and whatever that’s about. I’m trying to be rational, telling myself that it’s not really any of my business, forcing the issue isn’t going to help and the best thing is just to be there for him if he decides to talk, but the truth is I’m increasingly frustrated. I wish he could trust me the way I’ve trusted him.

Eventually, I force myself to focus on the scenery outside to try to distract myself from my mounting annoyance. It really is beautiful here, but there’s a definite undercurrent of something dark. On the surface, Cape Town is a typical modern metropolis, but hints of the country’s troubled past are still clearly evident as soon as you scratch beneath the fragile surface. Apartheid may be long gone, but its effects linger in a variety of ways. It’s a most unsettling place; on the one hand, you’re surrounded by incredible natural beauty and architecture, but there’s an almost imperceptible air of menace, as if this is all a delicate façade that could come crashing down in an instant to reveal the most brutal ugliness beneath.

I’m still reflecting on all of this when the bus arrives outside our apartment block, so it takes me a moment to notice that Nathan is speaking to me.

‘Would you like to come round for a glass of wine?’ he asks. ‘We could order in a pizza or something later if your stomach is up to it.’

‘Uh, yeah, sure,’ I reply, caught off guard. ‘I just need to shower and change first. Wash the salt off.’ I can feel my irritation rising again, but this time, it’s aimed inwards. Why didn’t I say no? Now I’ll have to spend the evening pretending everything is completely normal when there’s a bloody great elephant in the room. Great move, Athena. Well done.

‘OK. Just bang on the door when you’re ready,’ he says, before grabbing his bag and heading in the direction of his flat.

I’m torn as I make my way into the building. On the one hand, I really don’t want to spend any more time with Nathan today. I could just stay in my own apartment and tell him I fell asleep, I suppose. But if I do that, then I’m robbing him of the chance to potentially open up to me later, once he’s hopefully feeling more relaxed. Is that worth the risk, though? If I go over there and he doesn’t tell me what’s going on, I’m just going to be even more annoyed than I am now, and then I won’t sleep well because I’ll be churned up about it, and then I’ll be grumpy and tired tomorrow when I need to be at my best to impress Jeremiah and his cronies. But if I don’t go over there, I’ll probably only end up obsessing over it on my own, with the same results.

By the time I reach my front door, it’s clear to me that this is not something I’m going to be able to solve on my own, and a plan begins to form. I definitely need a long shower before anything else, as my hair feels gritty from the salty air and, although I’m pretty sure I didn’t get any on me, I can’t seem to shake off a vague whiff of vomit. Just the anticipation of the hot water cascading over me is soothing, and the rituals of washing, drying and brushing my hair will only add to that sense of peace. Then I’ll put on some clean clothes, pour myself a glass of something cold and call Trudi. She’ll help me to decide what to do.

* * *

‘Why do you have to do anything?’ Trudi asks once I’ve explained my predicament. ‘You’ve already said it’s technically none of your business, and I’d be inclined to agree.’

‘Because whatever, or whoever this is has obviously rattled him, and I want to help.’

There’s a pause. ‘If he wants your help, he’ll ask for it.’

‘But he’s a friend. Friends help each other out, especially when…’ I dry up.

‘Especially when?’ I can tell Trudi has picked up on something from her tone of voice. And, being Trudi, she’s not going to let it go until I tell her everything.

‘He knows about Tim,’ I tell her in a rush. Trudi is one of very few people that I’ve told about Tim, so she’ll understand what I mean, but the significance of the fact that I’ve now told Nathan won’t be lost on her either.

‘What? How?’