‘I asked for orange, didn’t I?’ Juliette replied. I felt my shoulder blades snap towards each other and was glad to have my back to her. I was too hungover to disguise the dismay on my face.

‘I’ll go and see if there are any in the galley,’ I suggested, slapping my hands on my thighs as I pushed myself up to stand. ‘Can I get you anything else while I’m there? Coffee? Breakfast? Ibuprofen?’

‘If you could just do as you’re asked, that would be great,’ she said, giving me a sour smile. ‘And close the door. I don’t want to be disturbed again.’

‘And what would you like if they don’t have any?’ I asked, subtly scratching my suddenly itchy scalp. An allergic reaction really would top off my morning beautifully.

Juliette stretched out one long leg and touched the tips of her toes to the inside of the door.

‘If they don’t have any, you will go and get some,’ she said, slowly and clearly.

And then she kicked the door closed. Juliette and the secret room disappeared and all that was left was my own shocked reflection staring back at me in the mirror.

‘Juliette doesn’t drink orange San Pellegrino,’ Lenny grumbled as the tender rolled off The Songbird’s ramp and into the water eight long minutes later. ‘It’s not on her list, she only drinks lemon.’

‘Maybe you should go back and tell her that,’ I suggested, cupping a hand over my eyes to block out the low winter sun. My new sunglasses were still on my desk, along with everything other than my work phone and the handful of cash I’d grabbed on my way out of my cabin. Between the hangover and my less than delightful interaction with my boss, it was fair to say I wasn’t really thinking about sunglasses when I left.

His face stretched into an unbecoming grin as he steered the boat towards the dock, bumping up and down on the waves and weaving in and out of all the other yachts that filled the bay. None of them were as striking as The Songbird, but I couldn’t help but wonder who might be hiding in a pink padded safe room inside those cabins.

‘Just so you know, I’m not the kind of guy who says I told you so.’

‘Thanks, appreciated,’ I replied, my voice flat and my words terse as I gripped the edge of my seat. The less I said, the less likely it was that I would puke over the side of the boat.

‘But I did tell you so,’ he went on, completely unable to stop himself. ‘Last night, you’re her best mate and today, you’re the shit on her shoe. Classic Juliette.’

‘Is there any chance we could slow down a bit?’ I asked, breathing in and out very, very slowly.

‘No,’ he replied as he gunned the engine even harder. ‘The shop is there, at the end of the harbour. Blue building, white awning. Can you see it?’