‘The ship’s doctor,’ I confessed, my face vivid with excitement. ‘Which is why I couldn’t tell you until now, as it’s somewhat illegal because I have been his patient on the cruise. I’m sorry about that. But all the advice you both gave me at the start of the cruise about the menopause – try this herb, pop this pill – I discovered what I really needed is some simple HRT – that is, husband replacement therapy.’

23

‘The doctor? The one who pushed the entertainment officer into the pool?’

‘Yes. Isn’t he all silver-foxy and fabulous?’

There was no answer except for the bubble and whirr of the jacuzzi.

‘I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you until now, but it’s a breach of the doctor–patient whatnot, so he made me promise I wouldn’t say anything. But I just had to let you know that I won’t be going home with you tomorrow.’

‘The ship’s doctor? Yes, that’s definitely a prima facie case of professional misconduct,’ Emerald said, sounding serious.

‘Sit on my prima facie,’ I giggled. Since when did I get so giggly? ‘Oh, girls, when he touches me, I feel as though a cyclone has spun me up into the stratosphere and landed me softly on cloud ten,’ I added, in a rush. ‘I’ve fallen in love. Just like in the movies. God, he’s so good in bed our headboard needs an airbag! I’m not kidding. I’ve kissed him so much I can’t believe my lips aren’t in a splint. It’s thrilling, frantic, romantic, dirty, dangerous, all-consuming, mind-blowing, tender, surprising, emotional, freaky – and then, sometimes, just fun. He says my red hair is as bright as daylight. Oh, and he’s so funny. Seriously. Thank god he’s a doctor, as I may haemorrhage from humour.’

My sisters, however, didn’t seem to be finding my revelation remotely amusing.

‘When? When exactly did this happen? You’ve been with us most of the time,’ Amber asked, bewildered.