She withdrew her hand and put it primly in her lap, unsure of what his response meant. Now was the moment when he was supposed to turn to her and tell her that he was sorry as well; that he had been drunk, not that it was an excuse, and he wouldn’t do anything as crass as grind up against another woman again.

‘Did you take any of my money from the bedside drawer?’ he asked.

She blinked and frowned at the sudden change of direction.

‘Um, no,’ she said. ‘Why?’

He shrugged again, and she felt a bleat of fury at the gesture, which was his answer to so many of her questions these days.

‘I’m missing some,’ he said. ‘A couple of hundred euros.’

She was confused. His money had always been her money – their money. When they went away, they didn’t have their own spending cash, it was all in. More to the point, she hadn’t been anywhere to use any money.

A thought struck at her as she stirred her drink with the straw. ‘Anna was in our suite,’ she said. ‘I went to the bathroom, that night when I was locked in, and she was alone in there for a while.’

He hissed out a breath. ‘For God’s sake.’ He drained his drink and turned to face her for the first time.

She shrank back but forced herself to speak anyway. ‘Why are you defending her?’ It came out as a whine, and she clenched her fists in frustration.

He shook his head, held his hands up and stumbled backwards off his stool. ‘I can’t do this again, I can’t go through your craziness again.’

Again. What was that supposed to mean? That she was always behaving crazy? Before she could ask him, he turned and made to walk away. She reached for him, snagging the sleeve of his coat, jerking him backwards, and he stumbled into the bronze handrail on the bar, banging his side.

He clutched at his ribs and glared at her. His eyes were filled with something she’d seen more times on this cruise ship than in all their years together.

She let her hand fall to her side. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered.

He simmered for a second before glancing at his watch. ‘It’s nearly time for dinner. Are we going to eat tonight?’

An olive branch, a peace offering. His face was creased with a scowl, but his words were a lifeline that she grabbed onto. She pushed herself off the stool, abandoned her drink and followed him as he left the bar without waiting to see if she was behind him.

At Tommy’s suggestion they dined in the smaller Japanese restaurant on the other side of the ship. It was the first time they hadn’t eaten in the main restaurant. It was quiet, and even better, nobody they knew was in there.