A strong wind whipped into his face and it felt as if he were having to push against a wall to get outside.

The fresh air made his blood pressure drop. He felt sick at first, but soon recovered, and the salty tang of the wind began to revive him.

Now it was no longer the alcohol making him sway, but the powerful sea swell, which thanks to the stabilisers hadn’t been so palpable inside the Sultan of the Seas.

With his legs apart he staggered across the planks. He was on deck 8½, an intermediate level that only existed for aesthetic reasons. Viewed from a distance it made the rear of the cruise ship appear more streamlined, like a spoiler on a sports car.

Arriving at the furthest tip of the stern on the port side, the doctor leaned over the railings. Beneath him raged the Indian Ocean. The headlights pointing backwards illuminated the white foamy peaks formed in the wake of the liner.

He’d actually wanted to say some last words, something like ‘Hasta la vista, baby’ or ‘Ready when you are’, but nothing amusing came to mind so he silently threw the bag with the leg overboard in a high arc.

I somehow imagined that was going to feel more exhilarating, he thought, slowly regaining his sobriety.

The wind tore so loudly at his ears that he couldn’t hear the leg slapping against the waves fifty metres below him. But he did hear the voice that came from behind.

‘What are you doing?’

He spun around.

The person who’d given him the fright of his life wasn’t an adult employee, thank God – someone from security, for example – but a young girl, no older than the little one whose family he’d treated a couple of years ago on the west coast of Africa. She was sitting cross-legged beside the box of an air conditioning system, or some other kind of unit. The doctor was less of an expert in technology than he was in knives.

As the girl was so small and the surroundings so dark he’d failed to notice her. Even now, staring into the darkness, he could only make out her silhouette.

‘I’m feeding the fish,’ he said, pleased that he sounded considerably calmer than he felt. Although the girl wasn’t a physical threat, he could do without her as a witness.

‘Are you feeling unwell?’ she asked. She was wearing a light-coloured dress with dark tights and an anorak on top. For safety she’d put on the red life jacket that was in the cupboard in every cabin.

Good girl.

‘No,’ he replied with a smile. ‘I’m fine. What’s your name?’

His eyes gradually became accustomed to the gloom.