The woman with the messy bun pops up next to him. ‘And I’m your first mate, Vanessa,’ she says in a lilting Italian accent. A stray lock of dark hair whips around her cheek. ‘I’ll check you in in a minute. Feel free to make yourself comfortable.’

I smile back at her. Aaron and Vanessa seem chill. There- is potential for this to be the restart I need. The shrill caw of a seagull cuts through the air. Buoyed with excitement, I toss my backpack onto the boat and step over the side.

I take a few shaky steps across the boat, which is lurching gently even though it’s securely tied to the pier. I settle onto a bench under the covered overhang next to Aaron’s chair. I hug my backpack close to my chest. I take inventory of my home for the next five days.

The boat is clean, which is what I was most worried about. The deck doesn’t feel dirty underneath my feet, just textured and grippy, which I assume is to help keep people from slipping. Everything smells a little damp and a little like salt, but it’s a nice, reassuring smell. The bench I’m sitting on is comfortable, a worn-in vinyl material that’s cracked in spots and a faded light blue.

I realise that the room I was seeing before is really a doorway with steps that lead to the sleeping quarters. Apart from what I feel like is the captain’s room, the rest of the boat is small. When I think about it, I realise I’ve never been trapped anywhere this small in my life. From the back to the front of the boat there’s just two narrow walkways on either side of the centre platform. The scuba equipment is set up at the front of the boat. I can see a line of air tanks. The platform in the middle of the boat looks like an ideal place to sunbathe. But I can’t help but notice that there’s nowhere to go if things go sideways. If anyone figures out I’m not Millie, I’m totally stuck.

In an attempt to stop myself from getting claustrophobic, I look out at the horizon and take in the crystal blue water and the gently sloping mountains. I will probably never be somewhere as pretty as this again. The thought both calms and depresses me.

When my gaze swings back to the boat, I find angry suntan man looking at me intently. He quickly looks away, but after a beat his stare returns.

‘What?’ I ask, exasperation creeping into my voice. ‘Am I in your seat? Are you going to lecture me about sunscreen again?’