‘Well, maybe not a millennial who takes photos of her food to post online. And hey, big news – life lets you down. You’re not the only one. It’s like when I got my first period and didn’t immediately want to waterski or play tennis in a white miniskirt. That’s when I realised that existence was not going to live up to my expectations. The world is clearly a deranged place, and humans are lurching to the right while the planet implodes environmentally. We’re all going to hell. All you can do is try to behave a little stylishly en route.’

‘Stylishly? In that outfit?’

‘Hey, at least I won’t get sunburnt and have to go and see the ship’s doctor, who’s a complete bastard, by all accounts.’

The start of a grin began to tug at his mouth. ‘So, what about marriage?’

‘Well, that’s an interesting offer, as I’ve only known you for about five minutes,’ I replied, cheekily.

‘Ha-ha. No, I mean, was I right? Are you unhappily married?’

Disarmed by the sun and our precarious situation, I let my guard down for a moment. ‘Well, if you really want to know, my husband of twenty-eight years recently flunked the practical exam for his marriage licence. I told him to do something to himself that only an incredibly athletic person could ever do, then booked a cruise and buggered off.’ I sighed.

‘Ah . . . hence the sheet burn on the nose, I suppose.’

‘Doctor–patient confidentiality?’ After he nodded, I continued in a small voice, ‘I wasn’t very accurate on the old truth-ometer about that one-night stand I had. It was actually a total disaster. He lost all interest. I think it was the shock of seeing pubic hair,’ I blurted.

‘What? Really?’ The doctor laughed. ‘Well, speaking as an old bushranger, I can’t help but feel sorry for a young man who can’t cope with a stroll in the long grass. The poor buggers have been brought up on porn, where everyone’s shorn. However, I must confess to being slightly jealous of him, whether or not he got lost in the jungle.’

I didn’t look in the direction of the doctor but I felt his gaze brush warmly across my face and smiled, despite myself. ‘What’s your name? If one of us is going to have to eat the other to survive, we might as well be on a first-name basis, don’t you think?’

‘Brody. Brody Quinn.’

‘Ruby Ryan. But you already know that. I’m no doubt filed at the medical centre under “most annoying patient”. Or “status dramaticus”.’

And then he really smiled. It was a slow, genial glow that started in his eyes and pulled at his lips until his face was wreathed in radiant delight. I almost gasped at the sudden and spontaneous warmth of it.