Tommy, finally seeming to remember who he was, stepped back to allow Paula to enter first. She glided past him, barely able to stifle a gasp as she entered the huge open-plan cabin. Beneath her feet, her thin-soled stilettos sank into the plush cream-coloured carpet.

And the light! She looked up to see daylight streaming in through glass double doors, a balcony beyond them. For a moment she imagined sitting out there sipping a cocktail from room service, before remembering that it was winter and it wouldn’t be at all pleasant. She moved soundlessly over the floor to the doors, unable to contain a smile at the sight of the open sea.

‘And a welcome gift, for sir and madam,’ said the porter, making a sweeping gesture to a large hamper on the table by the king-sized bed. ‘Do either of you have any questions?’

Paula rearranged her face to an expression of cool collectedness before turning towards him. ‘No, it’s all very lovely, thank you.’ She glanced at Tommy, hoping he caught the meaning in her pointed look, but to her relief, his wallet was already out, and he was pressing a small wad of notes into the porter’s hand.

When the door closed behind the man, Paula kicked off her shoes and ran across the room to jump into her husband’s arms.

‘Oh, Tommy, it’s such a beautiful suite!’

He caught her easily, allowing her to wrap her arms and legs around him for just a moment before setting her down none-too-gently on the floor.

‘I’m going to look around before we set sail,’ he said, pocketing the key card that the porter had left for them.

‘Well, give me a second and I’ll come with you,’ said Paula.

He held a hand up, and didn’t smile. ‘You settle in here. I’ll be back before dinner.’

With that, he was gone from the room without a backward glance.

The Arctic Suite was one notch down on the price list from the Expedition Suite. It was still plush, still luxurious. Like the Expedition Suite, there was a welcome hamper, though it was slightly smaller and only contained one bottle of champagne instead of two.

Anna Masi thanked the porter, pressed a few of William’s ten-pound notes into his hand and closed the door behind him.

Then, finally alone, she looked around the room that would be her home for the next ten days. Six grand was a lot of money to spend on a holiday, but it still left her with just under twelve thousand, having spent the last week in a hotel in Southampton. But after the last year, caring for William, letting him put his hands on her and living in his home smelling of old meat and fried food, she reckoned she’d earned it.