He let out one loud bark of a laugh. ‘What are you talking about? Everyone’s nice to her, all the time.’

‘Everyone’s kissing her arse all the time,’ I countered. ‘There’s a difference. She can tell when it’s bullshit.’

‘She hasn’t got a clue what’s going on,’ he said, dismissing my anger in the way that only men do. ‘You don’t know her.’

‘And neither do you,’ I said, turning towards the door and marching out of the kitchen with my fins held high.

While I was furiously changing out of my mermaid ensemble and into yesterday’s jeans and the first T-shirt I came across, I found a box of pink hair dye in my bathroom and I realized there was nothing I could do about that until I had a lot more time and possibly a bottle of Domestos. Once I was dressed in people clothes rather than mermaid drag, I let myself into Juliette’s suite and closed the door behind me as quietly as I could. Showering would have to wait, we were already late and I couldn’t risk Sarah finding out about any of this.

‘Juliette?’ I called softly. ‘Are you awake?’

Her room was untouched. The bed hadn’t been slept in, there were no dirty clothes anywhere and, after searching every inch of the bedroom, living room, dressing room, and bathroom, she was nowhere to be found.

‘Fuuuuck,’ I breathed, hands on my hips, work phone in my hand. My own phone was at the bottom of the sea and any messages from Stew were being played for the fishes. But that was another problem that would have to wait.

‘One cock-up at a time,’ I muttered to myself before raising my voice slightly. ‘Juliette, where are you?’

After piecing together the evening as best I could, the last thing I remembered was going to the galley for a late-night snack. Evidently, I had remained at the scene of the crime, but Juliette had not. So where was she hiding? I glanced over to the terrace and saw the door was slightly ajar. My stomach lurched. Surely not surely not surely not.

‘No,’ I said loudly, turning away from the window and the possibility. ‘Nope, no. She’s in here somewhere.’

Looking back at my reflection in the mirrored wall opposite her bed, I balked at the pale, drawn cheeks, panicky eyes and patchy pink hair tied up in a topknot. Not my best look. Stepping closer to the glass, I raised a hand to my face to swipe at a tenacious smudge of mascara, when the yacht dipped sharply to one side.

‘Shit!’ Reaching out my hands to stop myself, I stumbled towards the wall, colliding face first with the mirror. But the moment I grazed the glass, the wall gave way, swinging backwards to reveal a secret room hidden behind it. Inside, nestled amongst a giant pile of powder-pink pillows, was Juliette.