‘Well, give it here then.’ Defne drains the glass and throws it into the sea. ‘I’m big boned, I’m clumsy, and I’m ugly.’
Oxana draws her knees up to her chest. ‘Can I tell you something? Apart from being 180degrees fuckingwrong?—’
Defne side-eyes her. ‘Are you drunk? How much wine did you have at dinner?’
‘Some. A couple of glasses. You were talking about Buse, and how guys go for her.’
‘Yes.’
‘You think that’s what you want?’
Defne shrugs. ‘I wouldn’t mind.’
‘You don’t see how passive that would make you? How helpless?’ Oxana squints out to sea. ‘Why would you want to be someone that waits to get chosen, when you could be someone who goes out and does the fucking choosing.’
‘You’re swearing an awful lot for a nanny.’
‘I mean it, Defne. Don’t wait for permission. If you see someone or something you want, go for it. Go for him.’
Defne looks at her uncertainly.
‘You’re not ugly, trust me. You’re strong, you’re fierce, and you’re classy. And in the real world, as opposed to onLove Island, people value those things very highly.’
‘And you’re an expert, I suppose.’
‘I am, as it happens.’
‘Can I ask you something?’ She looks warily at Oxana. ‘Like, totally in confidence?’
‘Of course.’
‘There’s a crew guy, Noah.’
‘The French one.’
‘Exactly. Have you seen him around?’
‘Not since this morning. Why?’
‘He’s nice. And I think he… I think he likes me a bit. So… You reallypromiseyou won’t say anything? Not to Buse, or anyone.’
‘I promise.’
‘OK, well. I’ve been looking for him. Not in a serious way, but?—’
‘But what?’
‘But I haven’t seen him. I’ve seen all the others, on deck, doing all the crew stuff…’
‘But not Noah?’
‘No. And obviously I can’t really ask anyone. But, um… you and Feris are friendly, aren’t you?’
‘Sure. You want me to ask her about him?’
‘Can you do that? Without mentioning me?’
‘Of course.’ She squeezes Defne’s hand. ‘Leave it with me, OK?’