‘Oh, Ramón,’ she whispered, appalled.
‘It’s old history,’ he said in a voice that told her it wasn’t. It still had the power to hurt. ‘Nothing could ever be proved, so we had to move on as best we could. But my grandmother never got over it. She died when I was ten, and then my mother and my sister were killed in a car accident when I was little more than a teenager. So that’s my family. Or, rather, that was my family. I have an aunt I love, but that’s all.’
‘So you don’t have a home,’ she said softly.
‘The sea makes a wonderful mistress.’
‘She’s not exactly cuddly,’ Jenny retorted before she thought it through, and then she heard what she’d said and she could have kicked herself. But it seemed her tongue was determined to keep her in trouble. ‘I mean…Well, the sea. A mistress? Wouldn’t you rather have a real one?’
His lips twitched. ‘You’re asking why don’t I have a woman?’
‘I didn’t mean that at all,’ she said, astounded at herself. ‘If you don’t choose to…’
But she stopped herself there. She was getting into deeper water at every word and she was floundering.
‘Would you rate yourself as cuddly?’ he asked, a slight smile still playing round his mouth, and she felt herself colouring from the toes up. She’d walked straight into that one.
He thoroughly disconcerted her. It was as if there was some sort of connection between them, like an electric current that buzzed back and forth, no matter how she tried to subdue it.
She had to subdue it. Ramón was her boss. She had to maintain a working relationship with him for a year.
‘No. No!’ She shook her head so hard the tie came loose and her curls went flying every which way. ‘Of course I’m not cuddly. I got myself in one horrible mess with Kieran, and I’m not going down that path again, thank you very much.’
‘So maybe the sea is to be your partner in life, too?’
‘I don’t want a partner,’ she said with asperity. ‘I don’t need one, thank you very much. You’re very welcome to your sea, Mr Cavellero, but I’ll stick to cooking, sailing and occasional scrubbing. What more could a woman want? It sounds like relationships, for both of us, are a thing of the past.’ And then she paused. She stared out over Ramón’s shoulder. ‘Oh!’ She put her hand up to shade her eyes. ‘Oh, Ramón, look!’
Ramón wheeled to see what she was seeing, and he echoed her gasp.
They’d been too intent on each other to notice their surroundings—the sea was clear to the horizon so there was no threat, but suddenly there was a great black mound, floating closer and closer to the Marquita. On the far side of the mound was another, much smaller.
The smaller mound was gliding through the water, surfacing and diving, surfacing and diving. The big mound lay still, like a massive log, threequarters submerged.
‘Oh,’ Jenny gasped, trying to take in what she was seeing. ‘It’s a whale and its calf. But why…’
Why was the larger whale so still?
They were both staring out to starboard now. Ramón narrowed his eyes, then swore and made his way swiftly aft. He retrieved a pair of field glasses, focused and swore again.
‘She’s wrapped in a net.’ He flicked off the autopilot. ‘Jenny, we’re coming about.’
The boat was already swinging. Jenny dropped her buckets and moved like lightning, reefing in the main with desperate haste so the boom wouldn’t slam across with the wind shift.
Even her father wouldn’t have trusted her to move so fast, she thought, as she winched in the stays with a speed even she hadn’t known was possible. Ramón expected the best of her and she gave it.
But Ramón wasn’t focused on her. All his attention was on the whale. With the sails in place she could look again at what was in front of her. And what she saw…She drew in her breath in distress.
The massive whale—maybe fifty feet long or more—was almost completely wrapped in a damaged shark net. Jenny had seen these nets. They were set up across popular beaches to keep swimmers safe, but occasionally whales swam in too close to shore and became entangled, or swam into a net that had already been dislodged.
The net was enfolding her almost completely, with a rope as thick as Jenny’s wrist tying her from head to tail, forcing her to bend. As the Marquita glided past, Jenny saw her massive pectoral fins were fastened uselessly to her sides. She was rolling helplessly in the swell.
Dead?
No. Just as she thought it, the creature gave a massive shudder. She was totally helpless, and by her side her calf swam free, but helpless as well in the shadow of her mother’s entrapment.
‘Dios,’ she whispered. It was the age-old plea she’d learned from her mother, and she heard the echo of it from Ramón’s lips.
‘It’s a humpback,’ she said in distress. ‘The net’s wrapped so tight it’s killing her. What can we do?’
But Ramón was already moving. ‘We get the sails down and start the motor,’ he said. ‘The sails won’t give us room to manoeuvre. Gianetta, I need your help. Fast.’
He had it. The sails were being reefed in almost before he finished speaking, as the motor hummed seamlessly into life.
He pushed it into low gear so the sound was a low hum. The last thing either of them wanted was to panic the whale. As it was, the calf was moving nervously away from them, so the mother was between it and the boat.
‘If she panics there’s nothing we can do,’ Jenny said grimly. ‘Can we get near enough to cut?’
They couldn’t. Ramón edged the Marquita close, the big whale rolled a little, the swell separated them and Jenny knew they could never simply reach out and cut.
‘Can we call someone?’ she said helplessly. ‘There’s whale rescue organisations. Maybe they could come out.’
‘We’re too far from land,’ Ramón said. ‘It’s us or no one.’
No one, Jenny thought as they tried one more pass. It was hopeless. For them to cut the net the whale had to be right beside the boat. With the lurching of the swell there was no way they could steer the boat alongside and keep her there.
How else to help? To get into the water and swim, then cling and cut was far, far too risky. Jenny was a good swimmer but…
‘It’s open water, the job’s too big, there’s no way I could count on getting back into the boat,’ Ramón said, and she knew he was thinking the same.
‘You would do it if you could?’ she asked, incredulous.
‘If I knew it’d be effective. But do you think she’s going to stay still while I cut? If she rolled, if I was pushed under and caught…’
As if on cue, the whale rolled again. Her massive pectoral fins were fastened hard against her, so a sideways roll was all she could do. She blew—a spray of water misted over Jenny’s face, but Jenny’s face was wet anyway.
‘We can’t leave her like this,’ she whispered. ‘We have to try.’
‘We do,’ Ramón said. ‘Jenny, are you prepared to take a risk?’
There was no question.