Amber raised her eyebrows. ‘After the despicable thing I did to you, Ruby, and after all we’ve been through in the past twenty-four hours, I don’t judge anyone anymore, as long as they’re not carrying a bomb or a blood-splattered relative.’

‘Religion is a sham and god cannot logically exist. But, despite that, we will organise a lovely Catholic service,’ Emerald stated, and ratified the temporary truce by hooking them both up to a bottle of gin in order to fortify themselves for the grim tasks ahead. I gestured for Brody to follow me down past the deep end of the pool, where we could sit on a frangipani-canopied swing seat facing the cobalt cove.

‘Thank you,’ I said, squeezing his arm gratefully.

‘I bet you say that to all the men who get you off a murder rap.’ Brody gave his devilish smile. ‘I owed you a favour, anyway.’

‘Really? Why?’

‘For curing my chronic sceptic-aemia. There’s no prescription for that. And, if you still feel the same way . . . well, I think I need a daily dose. Doctor’s orders.’ A mischievous grin split his face.

I was reeling. No wonder it’s called Boxing Day: I was doing ten rounds with fate and I was on the ropes, fate clearly winning.

When I didn’t respond, he added, ‘Okay, I drink too much, I lie on my tax returns, I get the sack too often for speaking my mind, and I have a few minor felonies on the books, but name one really important shortcoming?’ he said, cheekily.

Dumbstruck by his reappearance, I could only gaze at his tanned forearm, then up at the square set of his broad shoulders, then at his face and the smile lines that parenthesised his full mouth, which made me think of those kisses that so electrified my palate . . .

When I still didn’t speak, Brody persevered.

‘You said you hate your job. You said that your kids don’t need you. You said that your marriage is over. You said you wanted adventure before dementia. Well, so do I. I’m planning to ply my trade for a while in New Guinea. Local non-profits and NGOs are begging for doctors to come work there. Then I thought maybe I’d move on to Fiji, the Solomons, Samoa . . . Doctors are needed everywhere. It’s always been my dream to follow in the footsteps of James Cook and Robert Louis Stevenson, and explore that big, beautiful Pacific. It’s one of the things that convinced me to sign up with the cruise company. For the first time in my life, there’s nothing holding me back. No debts. No contracts. No commitments. I’ve changed my phone number so nobody can find me. I’m free as a bird – an exotic tropical bird, exactly the kind I’d like to study in the wild. With you by my side. You know, now that I’m a recovering cynic.’