‘I know it sounds nuts. The truth is, I did receive a cancer diagnosis. Terminal. On my fiftieth birthday. I went into meltdown. I got drunk and told everyone what I really thought of them. All I wanted to do with the time I had left was patch things up with my two warring sisters. That’s why I booked the first cruise I could. Only, then I found out it was a misdiagnosis. But if I’d told my sisters, they wouldn’t have come on the trip. So, I postponed telling them. And then we were all having so much fun that I put it off again. And again. I know it was wrong.’ I grabbed hold of his hands. ‘But the medical scare made me see life differently. It made me want to live in the moment – as though every day is my last. And then I met you and fell in love and forgot all about the cancer, until my sisters told you that I didn’t want to see you anymore.’ I grabbed hold of his hands. ‘But I do! I do! Life is in two acts – the trick is surviving the interval. The cancer misdiagnosis was my interval, and you’re my chance at a second act. It’ll be like adolescence in reverse. A lovely rebirth!’

I beamed up at my beloved. When Brody’s face didn’t move, I just held my smile in place as if waiting for an unseen photographer to complete his work.

The trophy wife was finally aboard and was looking at me with a mix of incredulity and pity. The crewmen now scrambled back down the ladder to fetch the seasick mining magnate.

Brody extricated himself from my grip. ‘Who lies about having cancer?’ Hot anger crackled in his voice.

‘Okay, I deceived my sisters and got them to take a three week holiday under false pretences, I lied to them about cancer, then lied to you by not telling you that I’d lied to them. I put my own pleasure and happiness first, and forgot all about my friends and family . . . But name one really important shortcoming?’ I joked, desperately.

But my normally loquacious, witty, quippy love god was struck dumb. When Brody finally did reply, he said, ‘If Oliver Sacks was still alive, he could have written you up in one of his books, as you clearly have an incredibly rare personality disorder.’

‘You’re the incredibly rare one. Which is why I adore you, Brody Quinn.’ I was speaking in a tone of voice I’d never heard come out of my mouth before. It was as though I’d unlocked a secret level of my vocal cords that was velvety and alluring. ‘Can’t we just stick to our plan, head up the coast?’ I persevered. ‘We’ll work it out. Jump ship. Come back with me now in the water taxi . . .’

‘Where to? A psychiatric facility?’