Paula wondered what sort of job this young woman did. On impulse, she took hold of Anna’s hand. ‘Please, will you join us for dinner tonight? I’d like to say thank you properly. It’s our treat.’

‘Oh, well, I think our meals are already paid for in the price of the tickets,’ replied Anna. At Paula’s mortified expression, she squeezed her hand. ‘But I’d love to join you. Thank you.’

‘Good.’ Paula straightened her shoulders and slipped her key card in the slot. ‘We’ll meet you here in an hour?’

Inside the safety and relative expanse of her cabin, Paula sank onto the bed. Never in her whole life had she felt as frightened as she had in that sauna. She pulled off her bikini and inspected herself in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. Her skin was red and blotchy, her face was dry and her hair was like straw. She pulled at it, wincing as several strands came away in her fingers. What the hell had she done to herself in that awful sweat box? Tears filled her eyes again at the thought of the amount of money she spent to keep her hair and skin in tip-top condition. She didn’t even have time to wash it, and actually wasn’t sure if she dared, due to the amount that seemed to be shedding from her scalp.

She reached for her coconut oil, smoothing it along the shafts of her hair until she could get a comb through it. Slicking it against her head, she pinned it up and scowled at her reflection. This was not how she had intended to spend her first night on board.

And where was Tommy? As she reached for her phone on the side, she belatedly remembered her lost bag. She darted around the room, opening cupboard doors and bedside drawers, searching for the bag she was sure she’d taken to the sauna with her.

Feeling emotional again, she stabbed at Tommy’s name, clicking her nails on the side of the sink as she waited for him to answer.

Her nails! In horror, she looked at her left hand, remembering now the nails that had chipped and split as she scraped them against the sauna door in her desperation to escape. They were jagged and broken, the expensive manicure that she’d had the day before a complete and utter waste of money.

‘Hey, babe.’ Tommy’s voice came down the phone.

Paula dragged her gaze away from her ruined hand. ‘Where are you?’ she asked, hating the sound of the choked tears in her voice but unable to quell them.

‘On the lower deck,’ he replied, and down the line came the sound of male laughter.

Paula swallowed down the sobs that threatened to break free. In the mirror, her skin flushed an even deeper scarlet. ‘It’s nearly dinner time,’ she said, hoarsely.