he had a great respect for the ocean and its sudden, dangerous changeability. And he was never irritated by the days of sailing up and down, searching the sea-bed, or dismayed by the orders she gave him to take the boat into tricky positions: close to barrier reefs or near to cliffs that towered over them. He was a seaman through and through. And a good judge of men; if he said that Oliver was OK, then that meant a great deal.
Leaning back, companionably drinking her beer from the can, Dyan wasn’t at all sure of her own opinion on Oliver. Her hopes about him had been raised too high to start with, then dashed too low. But that had been mainly her own fault, she realised. It had been a mistake to be so pleased at the thought of finding an unprejudiced man; if she’d been more wary, then she wouldn’t have been so disappointed to find that he was just as chauvinistic as the next man. So, she thought pensively, maybe it would be a good idea to look at him afresh. Start again from the beginning, so to speak. Taking a sip of drink, she pictured Oliver in her mind, remembering her surprise at his comparative youth and good looks when she first saw him. And she smiled to herself as she recalled how it had been important to find out whether or not he was married. Not that she particularly believed in marriage; she’d been disillusioned about that in the past, but she had to admit she’d been glad when Oliver had made it quite clear that he was unattached.
‘You’re smiling wider than a Cheshire cat,’ Russ remarked mockingly. ‘What are you thinking about?’
‘My next leave,’ she told him, knowing him well enough to be pert.
But he wasn’t deceived. ‘Watch your step with this guy,’ he cautioned. ‘Remember the last time.’
The glow faded from her face. ‘You don’t have to remind me,’ she said shortly.
Putting a hand on her knee, Russ leaned forward to look into her face. ‘I just don’t want to see you hurt again. Are you over that bum?’
She nodded. ‘It was nearly a year ago.’
‘Good.’ Russ waved an admonitory finger at her. ‘But you be careful. You know how susceptible you are to English guys. I don’t know how many times I’ve told you to go for a red-blooded American.’
Dyan laughed. ‘Like you, I suppose?’
‘Sure, like me.’
As, like Barney Starr, Russ had treated her like a daughter since she’d known him, Dyan knew that he was kidding as usual. Bending forward, she planted a kiss on his weathered cheek and said, ‘I could never find anyone half as sexy as you, Russ.’
He laughed, enjoying the game they played, but someone gave a polite cough behind her and they both looked round to see that Oliver had come up to them.
Russ finished his drink and stood up. ‘Time I was going back to the bridge.’ He gestured to the chair he’d been using. ‘Here, take a seat.’
Oliver thanked him and sat down beside her. Dyan was intrigued to see that he had changed into shorts. Compared to the rest of the crew, his skin was pale, but it was by no means lily-white. His legs were strong and muscular, as if he played a lot of sport, and, thankfully, not too hairy. There were one or two members of the crew who looked one step up from a gorilla. Some girls might like that, but Dyan found it a turn-off.
‘Did you find out anything?’ she asked.
‘Yes. Hopefully we’re in luck. The pop star has bought another boat, did so almost immediately, in fact—evidently it isn’t good for his image to be without a yacht—and he kept on the captain and the original crew. It seems they rescued him when the Xanadu went down, so he’s grateful to them for saving him to make more, and yet more music,’ he said with a mock groan.
‘Does he have his life insured with you?’ Dyan asked in some amusement.
Oliver grinned back, ‘Unfortunately, yes.’
‘You should be glad, then.’
‘Have you ever heard his so-called music, Dyan?’
‘I think there are probably a couple of his cassettes on board,’ she admitted.
‘Then, please, I beg of you, don’t play them when I’m around, or they’ll end up over the side,’ Oliver said feelingly.
She laughed delightedly. ‘I’ll tell Russ to give a top priority order to the crew.’
Joe came out on the deck carrying two tall glasses on a tray. ‘I thought you might like a martini,’ Oliver told her.
Usually Joe just brought up cans of cold beer, but these glasses were frosted and there was ice and lemon. He had evidently been given specific instructions. Dyan took one, hoping Oliver hadn’t seen the empty beer can under her chair. He must, she thought, be used to living in a very civilised style.
‘Thanks, that was thoughtful of you.’
‘I had an ulterior motive,’ he told her.
‘Oh?’ She gave him a half intrigued, half wary look.
‘Yes. I thought you might get thirsty telling me that long story of how you come to be in charge of “this expedition, this ship and these men”, if I remember your words correctly.’
‘Oh, dear, was I as bad as that?’ Dyan gave him a guilty look, but there was also amusement in her green eyes.
‘Much worse,’ Oliver returned and leant back comfortably. ‘So?’
Dyan hesitated, wondering why he wanted to know. Was it out of genuine interest—or was he still checking up on her? Hoping it was the former, she said, ‘I’ve always been fascinated by the sea. When I was small we had a house near the coast. My father loved to sail and he taught me. But I didn’t want to just sail on it, I wanted to find out everything about the sea: what made the tides and the storms, what lived in it, what was down on the sea-bed. So, as soon as I was old enough, I went to college and studied oceanography.’
‘And did well, obviously.’
She admitted that with a small shrug. ‘There are four branches of oceanography. I studied all of them, but specialised in marine geology and marine ecology.’
‘What are the other two?’ Oliver asked, his eyes full of interest.
Dyan liked the way he seemed to give her his whole attention when he listened; his eyes stayed on her, he didn’t look away as people often did when she talked about her work. ‘They are the study of the physical, and the chemical components of sea-water. Marine ecology concerns the plants and animals you find in the sea, and marine geology is the study of the structure, features and evolution of the ocean basins.’ She paused. ‘I hope that didn’t sound too much like a lecture.’
‘No, it didn’t. I suppose, in your job, you find the latter discipline the most useful?’
‘Yes.’
‘Where did you go to college?’
‘Oxford first, then I came over to America, to California for a year.’
‘And then you applied for the job with Starr Marine?’
‘No.’ Dyan shook
