‘They’re kids, what do you expect?’ a man in a Homer Simpson ‘Big Daddy’ T-shirt laughed. His belly moved independently of the rest of him.

‘I expect you to behave like a responsible parent and exact some discipline for the sake of the other 2,499 passengers on this vessel.’

‘They’re on holiday, love. Why don’t you lighten up and have one?’

‘Apart from anything else, there are hot drinks being carried around—’

‘—oh, so now you’re worried about them being scalded? Look, I’ve been polite up to now but if you push me any further Mrs—’

‘—what will you do, hit me? Go ahead, make my century.’

The man bent down, placing his hands on the arms of Caro’s chair, gurning his face right next to hers. ‘Don’t come near my kids again.’

She frowned. ‘Why protect them now? The damage is clearly done.’

‘You OK, Caro?’ I asked as Homer retracted his fist.

She threw me a glare obviously meant for Homer. ‘Yes, thank you. This gentleman was just leaving. He hasn’t eaten in a while. Must be feeling faint.’

Homer looked daggers at me but walked away, still pissing and whining, calling Caro all the names under the disco ball, including ‘dry old snatch’.

I sat on the edge of a planter with my coffee. Caro returned to her cocktail and flipped over the book she was reading, a different one to the other day but with the same big print.

‘You didn’t need to save me.’

‘I know.’ I kicked my heels against the metal planter.

‘Do you mind not making that noise?’

I stopped kicking. ‘I read your book when you were asleep the other day. Lesbo Downton.’

‘Oh? And what did you think?’

‘It was good. It sort of… turned me on a bit.’ Her eye twinkled, despite itself, but she didn’t look up. ‘Are you going into Valencia today?’

‘No. There’s nothing to do there. You?’

‘I might. We could go together. I could keep you company.’

She looked up. ‘Why would I want you to do that?’

‘Someone to talk to?’

‘You’re hardly the Peter Ustinov of raconteurs,’ she sniffed. ‘And I thought you were Australian?’

‘I am,’ I said, trying to affect my most Kylie Minogue lilt. I’d become so comfortable around the salty lil witch that I’d forgotten who I was supposed to be and carried on being who I was. ‘I am Australian. Fair dinkum.’

She afforded me a slight eyebrow. ‘Your accent’s somewhat muddled.’

I deadass didn’t know how to respond so I said ‘Mmm’ and took a deeper interest in the flowers. I decided to phase out my Bindi Irwin act with Caro. With her at least, I could risk being halfway more myself.

‘Strange girl.’ She went back to her book.

‘We had one of these in rehab,’ I told her, patting the planter.

She eyeballed me. ‘Are you a drug addict?’