‘Have you noticed that Sara Buchanan hasn’t spoken one word to the chairman since she sat down?’ said Beth, still staring at the captain’s table.

‘Possibly because he sacked her husband as deputy chairman,’ suggested William, as he buttered a second piece of toast.

‘What else have you spotted while you pretended to be listening to me?’

‘Hamish Buchanan has been deep in conversation with his mother, while James is feigning not to be interested, although he’s taking in every word.’

‘Which he’ll no doubt report back to you, now you’ve recruited him as your undercover agent for the trip.’

‘James appointed himself. And as he’s the chairman’s grandson, he’s well-placed to supply endless pieces of inside information.’

‘For a man, it’s information,’ commented Beth. ‘For a woman, it’s gossip.’

‘James has already warned me that he wouldn’t be surprised if an all-out row broke out at some time during the voyage,’ added William, ignoring Beth’s comment.

‘I’d like to be a salt cellar on that table,’ admitted Beth.

‘Behave yourself, or I’ll take a closer look at the young man who’s in charge of your yoga class.’

‘His name’s Stefan. All the other middle-aged women in the class fancy him,’ she sighed, ‘so I’m not in with much of a chance.’

‘You are not middle-aged,’ said William, taking her hand.

‘Thank you, caveman, but I’ve already had two thirtieth birthdays, just in case you hadn’t noticed, and the children will soon be off to nursery school.’

‘I wonder how our parents are coping with them.’

‘Your father will have Artemisia doing torts …’

‘… while your mother will be teaching Peter to draw.’

‘Lucky children,’ they both said simultaneously.

‘Still, back to the present,’ said Beth, picking up a copy of the daily cruise programme. ‘There’s a talk in the lecture theatre this morning that I’d like to go to.’

William raised an eyebrow.

‘Lady Catherine Whittaker on the operas of Puccini.’

‘I just might give it a miss. Mind you, if she’s the wife of Mr Justice Whittaker,’ said William, looking around the room, ‘it would be fascinating to have a chat with him.’

‘And there’s a different show in the theatre every evening,’ continued Beth. ‘Tonight it’s Lazaro, a magician, who will apparently shock and surprise as he makes objects and even passengers disappear before our eyes. We can go to either the seven o’clock or the nine o’clock performance.’

‘Which sitting would you prefer for dinner?’ asked Franco, when he returned to their table and began to pour them a second coffee.

‘What time do the chairman and his family come down in the evening?’ asked William.

‘Around eight thirty, sir, when they have cocktails before dining.’

‘Then we’ll take the second sitting.’

‘What are you up to?’ asked Beth, looking closely at her husband.

‘I have a feeling that if we attend the second sitting, we’ll have more shocks and surprises, and possibly see more people disappearing before our eyes, than Lazaro will manage in the theatre.’