Free Pescador's Wake by Katherine Johnson Page A

much under it. The Mercedes starts up and Cecilia drives too fast down the narrow street. It’s surprising, Julia thinks, that she deigns to be seen in this neighbourhood at all.
    Julia inhales for five seconds, and counts to seven as she releases the warm air. It’s a relaxation technique that Paula showed her. She opens the telephone directory and dials thenumber for Uruguayan Fisheries, and asks to speak urgently with Francisco Molteni.
    He answers the phone without delay.
    â€˜ Hola, Francisco. Cecilia has told me about the chase. What’s going on? Are they okay?’
    â€˜Cecilia should mind her own business. Lo siento, Julia,’ Francisco apologises. ‘I was going to call you today. They’re safe. Carlos is okay. But he’s taking a big risk going so far south. We’ve ordered them back to Montevideo so we can sort out the matter here. Our government is dealing at a diplomatic level with the Australians to try to convince them to get off Carlos’s tail. But at this stage they’re continuing the chase.’
    â€˜Can I speak with him?’
    â€˜We’ve advised Carlos not to make satellite calls, except to us. It’s possible the communications will be intercepted, and any conversations he has could be used against the Pescador in court. We’ve officially arrested the boat on the basis of the accusations against it, and the fact that it wasn’t identifying itself to the Australians.’
    â€˜Do the Australians have a case?’
    â€˜We don’t know. The vessel-monitoring system was off when the supposed illegal fishing took place. We have no record of the Pescador even being in Australian waters.’ Francisco’s voice softens. ‘As I said, I was going to tell you about all this today, now that we’ve made contact with the Pescador .’
    Julia thinks of the opportunities Francisco had to tell her about the chase when he collected Sofía just a few days ago. She had invited him in for a drink and he had accepted, relaxing into Carlos’s empty chair as if grateful for the chance to chat.
    â€˜If you keep me in the dark again, I’ll never forgive you, Francisco.’
    â€˜I know. Try not to get ahead of yourself. Señor Migiliaro’s ship is strong—’
    â€˜ Señor Migiliaro can go to hell. You and I both know he’s only concerned about getting his hands on the fish. And the Pescador is just an old boat dressed up. If she goes down, Migiliaro won’t lose a night’s sleep. We both know he has plenty more rotten vessels in his fleet. A few months fishing on another boat, and he’ll have paid for his loss.’
    â€˜You’re angry, but remember Carlos agreed to whatever arrangement was made with Señor Migiliaro. Your husband is no fool. He knew what he was getting into.’
    â€˜Don’t think I’m not angry with Carlos too.’ Julia’s voice is quiet, almost a whisper. ‘I’ll call the first mate’s wife. To let her know. Adiós, Francisco.’
    â€˜ Hasta luego .’
    Julia ends the phone call, and consciously deepens her shallow inhalations to calm herself. She dials Virginia’s number and imagines her answering the call from her small wooden house at La Paloma. Julia pictures the beach wherethey all met during school holidays, every detail still clear in her mind. She sees the fishing boats and Eduardo’s father’s fishing shed nestled in its soft bed of white sand. She knows her news will shatter the calm, striking Virginia like a tsunami crashing in from the sea.
    â€˜ Hola, Virginia. It’s Julia.’ Julia can hear Virginia’s daughters laughing in the background. ‘I’ve just had news of the boat. They’ve been spotted fishing illegally in Australian waters. They’re being chased.’
    â€˜Oh my God.’ There is panic in Eduardo’s wife’s voice.
    â€˜It’s not great news, I know.