Free Pescador's Wake by Katherine Johnson

heavy perfume makes Julia cough.
    â€˜Terrible business about the boat being chased,’ Cecilia says.
    â€˜What boat?’
    â€˜Oh. I thought Carlos was capitán of Señor Migiliaro’s Pescador .’
    â€˜ Si, he is.’ Julia feels sick. ‘What have you heard?’
    â€˜Oh.’ Cecilia’s hands are flat on either side of her face, talons reaching all the way to her bottle-blonde hairline. ‘Francisco was talking about it with some workmates a few days ago at one of our dinner parties. I thought you’d have heard by now.’ Cecilia seems to be enjoying the torment she’s dishing out on Julia’s front step. Like it’s a game. ‘Carlos’s boat was caught fishing in Australian waters. They’ve been ordered to Australia to face charges, but we’ve ordered the Pescador home, so we can sort it all out here, under our law.’
    Julia’s fingers tighten around the door frame, and she feels herself going weak.
    Cecilia turns her knife. ‘But it seems the Australians are going to chase them all the way here if necessary!’ She holds her hands out at her sides to indicate the ridiculousness of thesituation. ‘You poor girl. What a worry for you. And with a baby on the way.’ Her hand is over her mouth now in an unconvincing display of concern. ‘But I’m sure the handsome Carlos will be okay. Although Francisco did say the weather can go from calm to gale-force in an instant down there.’
    Julia is shaking, but tries to hide it. Of course Cecilia knew that it was Carlos’s boat, and that she couldn’t have heard about the chase, except through Carlos or Francisco or someone else in the Fisheries Department. Yet Cecilia had been sitting on the news for days, waiting until now to reveal all in this flippant just-dashing-out-to-tennis way. Julia is shocked by the cruelty of the woman. She can hear Cecilia’s words, spoken as if she is one of the Fisheries Department officials herself: ‘ We’ve ordered the Pescador home.’ How dare she? The Barbie of a wife has probably never even seen a whole fish up close, let alone scaled and gutted one.
    â€˜How far south are they?’ Julia asks.
    â€˜Well, Francisco said something about icebergs, so I suppose—’
    â€˜Is Francisco at work?’
    Cecilia stalls, and for a moment her confident façade wavers. She studies Julia’s naturally attractive face closely and an ugly, jealous crease forms in the make-up at the corners of her painted mouth. ‘ Si, but he doesn’t like to be bothered there. I get into the biggest trouble if I phone him.’ Cecilia retreats behind a girlish giggle. ‘I’ll ask him to call you ifthere’s any news.’ She places a perfectly manicured hand on Julia’s forearm and Julia resists the urge to bat it away. ‘Anyway, I’d better get to this game.’ Cecilia combs her fingers through her hair and drags the blonde mane back into a tight ponytail. ‘Maybe you should have a lie-down. You’re pale. This won’t help your pregnancy, will it? And you’ve had such a bad run in that department, you poor girl.’ Cecilia motions to give Julia a vacuous hug and an air kiss, but Julia turns to go inside, closing the door behind her. In truth, Julia is barely aware of Francisco’s wife any more. The woman is unimportant, like a small moth stirring up the air around her.
    The girls have already disappeared into María’s bedroom with the designer shopping bag crammed full of Barbies, their blonde heads poking out, jostling for attention. The resemblance to Cecilia is frightening.
    Through the lounge-room window Julia catches sight of Cecilia reapplying her lipstick in the rear-vision mirror of her silver Mercedes. It seems Francisco is well paid for his efforts policing Uruguay’s fishing industry. She wonders how much of the money comes over the table, and how