None of us had an answer, but I couldn’t help wishing that I too could stay on board and not have to face what I knew was waiting for me at home.

Thea has just asked me another question about my job when the cruise director, Joel, approaches our table. ‘Excuse me,’ he says, leaning down to speak to me quietly. ‘I’m so sorry to disturb you, but we have an urgent call for you. Can you come with me, please?’

I look blankly at him for a second, thinking that he must have got the wrong person. I know the number on the boat is only to be used in an emergency, and as I rise slightly unsteadily to my feet, my shaking legs knock against the table.

I turn and scurry after Joel. His tiny office is next to the dining room, and he tells me kindly that the call has been put through there. He shows me in, hands me the phone and then quietly leaves.

‘Hello?’ I say, my voice hesitant, uncertain of what on earth could have happened.

‘You’re a bitch, you know that, don’t you?’

‘Ian!’ I whisper his name fiercely into the phone, my heart pumping. ‘What the hell are you doing calling the emergency number?’

‘You won’t answer my texts, calls or emails, so what the fuck do you expect me to do?’

I feel myself about to apologise, to make excuses, but I swallow the words.

‘I can’t get a mobile signal here and there’s no Wi-Fi.’

‘Liar,’ he spits down the phone. ‘I read the brochure. It says there is Wi-Fi.’

‘Yes, Ian. Wi-Fi can be transmitted through the ship, but only when there’s a signal into the ship – which is practically never. It’s the truth, honestly.’

It’s almost the truth. I don’t want him to know that I’ve read his emails.

‘Did you tell them there’s an emergency at home?’ I ask, certain there isn’t. I can feel myself shaking. I want to scream – to let out the tension that is gripping me at the sound of his voice. Why is he doing this?

‘I told them your mother was dead.’

The words make me gasp. For a moment neither of us speaks. I want to cut him off, but if I hang up he will just call back.

‘But the real reason I called was to ask what the hell you thought you were doing emptying the joint account. I went to pick up the new telly – the one I told you about in one of the emails you claim you can’t get – and they said my application for credit had been denied, so I checked the account. There’s nothing left. You took it all, didn’t you? Bitch.’