Suppressing the urge to run screaming into the corridor and throw herself against Lisa’s door, she picked up the phone. The hectic beeping in her ear made it even more difficult to concentrate.

Room Service

Housekeeping

Laundry

Spa…

Ten direct-dial buttons. None of them was labelled PANIC.

1310… 1310…

She’d just been about to call reception when she remembered Daniel’s direct number.

After four rings he answered with a sleepy ‘Hello?’

‘She… she’s…’ Julia’s voice cracked. Only now did he realise that she was crying.

‘Lisa? What’s happened?’ The captain’s voice already sounded much more awake.

‘I think she… she’s… going to…’

She didn’t have to say any more. Daniel promised he’d be with her in a couple of minutes and hung up.

A couple of minutes?

A long time if you were having your fingernails extracted. And even longer if you were worried your own flesh and blood was about to kill herself.

Now. This very moment.

Julia couldn’t wait. She yanked open the balcony door.

She was hit by damp, cold wind. She knocked her bare foot on a lounger, heard the rushing of the ocean which to her ears sounded like the roar of a wild animal throwing open its mouth to devour anything coming within range of its fangs.

‘Lisa?’ she screamed against the raging sea.

The balconies were separated by hard, white plastic screens. Julia leaned far over the railings to peer past the screen onto Lisa’s side on the right.

Light!

The ceiling lights were on and, because the curtains behind the balcony door weren’t drawn they lit up part of Lisa’s balcony too.

That means she must still be in the cabin, Julia thought with relief. Until the pendulum of fear that had swung away from her for a split second came crashing back with a vengeance. To save energy, the electric circuit was broken when you took the key card from the wall cabinet as you left the room. Normally a lit-up cabin was evidence that the passenger was in. Unless they hadn’t taken their key card.

Or they’d chosen another way out.

When Julia bent further forwards, she felt as if she were being struck by a wave.

Too far to have a safe grip.

The wind spat into her face. Drizzle fell in beads from her eyebrows. Rain and tears. All she could see was a blur. She blinked, she howled. Screamed.

And then she caught sight of them! The boots! Lisa’s boots. They were lying on the floor between the bed and the TV chest, half covered by a bedspread, beneath which the rest of Lisa’s body appeared to be lying.