‘All this time the dive log was useless?’ I asked myself quietly, overcome with a combination of relief and heavy sadness. I tried to push it out of my mind – I knew Hugh’s refusal to sign the dive log signified something deeper about our relationship. He refused to see beyond his black and white moral standard, and I would do anything to help my family, even something that was ethically questionable.

Millie and I had stayed up late that night, reworking the presentation around Derek’s photo. Now that we had crystal-clear proof of the wrasse’s existence, our presentation was shorter and more to the point – if corals have regenerated enough to sustain the regrowth of the butterfly wrasse population, then now is the time to focus on pollution from nearby banana farms. We still couldn’t use the photo as stand-alone proof, but it made the presentation a lot stronger. Millie had even paid a satellite company to use their aerial photos of pollution leaching into the reef.

My presentation is scheduled for 10 a.m. – the earlier slots are given to less well-known presenters and usually less crowded, both of which are fine for me. Even though I could barely touch my breakfast, a dry hotel muffin, I still feel nauseated when I approach the podium. I’m early, and I introduce myself to the tech support guy, who lingers around long enough for me to do a quick dry run and familiarise myself with the slideshow technology, and then disappears off into the shadows, leaving me slightly sweaty, nervously pacing until it’s time to start.

I peek around the side of the stage into the audience. My heart is hammering, and I know it’s more than just nerves. I could never fully let go of the fact that Hugh could be here. That he could see me and recognise the girl that he fell for – now that I am a marine biologist. Now that I feel more like me.

But instead of seeing shaggy blond hair, I see the mousy brown hair of other marine biologists, trickling into the first of a series of lectures. None of them look at all excited about how their day is scheduled to go. Three minutes until my presentation begins. Millie is all set to watch it on a livestream, she’s already texted me good luck. I check the audience again. The tech support guy is back and nudges me with his elbow, startling me to attention.

‘Is something up?’ he asks in a whisper. ‘You’re supposed to go on now.’

I walk to the podium, my heart hammering in my chest. This is my first chance to make my boss proud, to make a mark in my new field. The bright lights from the ceiling obstruct my view, so I can’t see anything except the row in front of me. I smile and introduce myself. I start clicking through my slides.