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The Clodagh was a modestly sized, but well equipped squidding boat, and under other circumstances, Iseult would have been pleased at how well appointed it was. It had hooks for twenty squidding pots, and a pool on the upper deck. The cabins were also well equipped, with all the modern conveniences one could hope for, but Iseult was too heartsick to take pleasure in how nice the boat was. She'd heard nothing from Patrick for two weeks, and she'd refrained from contacting him, fearful he'd turn her down even more brutally. Of Saraid she heard nothing, and worry dogged her heels as she finished the tour of The Clodagh. "I think it's lovely," she said to Gerald Kelly, the new captain. He was about twenty-three, with the tanned skin and permanent squint of a seasoned fisherman, and he'd made the transition from fishing to squidding with ease. Despite her heartbreak, she was actually looking forward to heading out to sea and getting away from her pain for a little while, even though it had been her own fault.95Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyYXSgwEAzS
Gerald nodded. "She's a grand vessel," he agreed. "Can't wait to take her on the high seas. She looks like she could ride the worst storms and leave all her rivals to get smashed to pieces."
Iseult grimaced, suddenly remembering Nora and her boats would be out on the ocean as well. But the two rival companies had an agreement; never venture into the other's territory, and Nora held to that very well. Jamie had grudgingly admitted the woman was good at keeping her word, even if she was a terrible bitch in all other aspects. Iseult was glad she wouldn't have to see the woman who would one day be Patrick's rival, and fresh pain assaulted her. Suddenly feeling like she was ready to suffocate, she excused herself and hurried down the gangplank. Once her feet were on solid ground, she walked determinedly to the post office. She'd written a letter the night before, but until now, she hadn't had the courage to post it. But since Patrick would one day be her employer, she didn't want to let this one slim chance she had at making things right between them.
Once the letter had been stamped and posted, Iseult left the post office and headed back down to the harbour. The Clodagh was still berthed, and Iseult decided on an impluse to join Gerald as he put the boat through her paces, prepatory to launching her in the morning. She quickly called her parents to let them know, and once she'd gotten their approval, she made her way up the gangplank. "I might come with you," she called to Gerald, who was busy setting things in order. "It'll be good to get a feel for how she handles."
Gerald's weathered face broke into a warm smile. "I could do with the company," he agreed.
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The Clodagh clove through the still water like a knife, and Iseult smiled as she watched the prow divide the water in neat, silken flows. The breeze was stiff, but refreshing, and Iseult breathed deep. Some of her pain had eased once they could no longer see land, and she wondered what it'd be like to permanently live on board the boat. Some of her father's captains did that, she recalled, and the idea was a tantalising one. But there was still the matter of Patrick and the letter she'd sent, and Iseult sighed, her good mood slipping away once more. "I'm going for a swim," she called to Gerald, who acknowledged her with a wave, and she ducked into one of the cabins to get changed. 95Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8Y0fXeEKSs
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Iseult dived deep underwater, letting the blue and the stillness settle her sore nerves. Here, below the surface, she was one with the water, and no pain could touch her. She only came to the surface long enough to get air before going under again, and as the surface world slipped away again, she knew this was where she belonged. When next she came up for air, her mind was made up.
No matter what the outcome of her letter, she knew she couldn't work for Patrick. They would probably be able to mend fences, after a fashion, but Iseult knew she couldn't work for him so long as they had this painful history between them. Her parents, she knew, would understand; they'd never upbraid her for changing her mind about squidding. And the ocean was calling to her in a way she could no longer ignore. It was time, she told herself, as she went under one last time, to put it all behind her and embrace this part of her she'd never known existed. Squidding could wait; it was diving she was interested in.
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