‘Are you all packed?’ I ask Jesse. ‘I’ve put my stuff in this little backpack.’ It’s a Chanel one given to me by some guest keen to bed me, but I imagine Jesse will assume it’s a knock-off. ‘My things need to be separate from yours so we can split up as quickly as possible once we’re on land. It’s vital no one who might recognize me sees me.’

‘I’ve booked my travel and a hotel, using my new ID, for a few days until I can find something more permanent,’ I continue. ‘The island I’ve chosen for my eventual destination is perfect – big enough that not everyone knows each other, but not too many tourists, almost none from the UK, no immigration requirements we can’t meet and plenty of beaches where I can set up a bar. It will be perfect. You’re following up on the insurance claim, aren’t you?’

‘I am, when I can get the WiFi to work,’ he says. ‘They’re dithering because your body hasn’t been found, and that means there are more hoops that have to be jumped through and boxes that have to be ticked. But reading between the lines, I don’t think it should be too long.’

‘I got a report from Leo which stated that both he and the coastguard were of the firm opinion that you couldn’t have survived a fall into the water,’ he continues. ‘It’s lucky that woman saw the dummy you threw – that seems to have helped the case quite considerably.’

75

Antonio

16 February 2022, 06:00

The Caribbean

In the morning Lola folds herself into the holdall and I zip it up. We are leaving early to fit in with the tides and so there is no one to bid me goodbye, which suits me fine.

The guy driving the tender appears to speak no English and neither do the other three passengers, which I’m pleased about. It’s too early to make conversation and I wouldn’t want to chat anyway – it feels too weird knowing Lola is stowed away in the bag. I’m worried in case she hasn’t got enough air or gets cramp or sneezes or something, but she assured me she would be fine.

The sea is calm and it is beautiful watching the sun rise on the half-hour journey. Colourful fish dart about in the clear blue water and the early morning sun is warm on my face. It feels like a new dawn in so many ways. I nod goodbye to the driver and shake hands with my colleagues who I didn’t really know as we dock, and watch as the little boat heads back to sea, dwarfed by the enormous ship we’ve all come from.

I pick up my two bags and head for the cheap hotel room I’ve booked. And from there, Lola and I will go our separate ways. For now.