As she pushed her discarded bread roll to one side and sipped at her cup of water, she heard a commotion in the doorway. She looked up and sat a little straighter when she saw the fishing expedition boys come piling through the door, headed by Tommy Ellis. The dining area was empty but for her, and he hailed a hearty greeting as he made his way over to her.

Anna sat back and crossed her legs. ‘You boys are back early,’ she remarked.

‘We had to turn around. Have you been on deck? It’s wild out there,’ said Tommy as he pulled out a chair uninvited and sat down.

‘Drink, mate?’ asked one of his fishing buddies.

‘Pint, please,’ said Tommy. He glanced at Anna’s water. ‘Anna?’

She pretended to mull it over. ‘Gin and tonic, thanks,’ she replied.

Tommy pulled off his jacket and slung it on an empty chair. ‘How were your salon appointments?’ he asked, and before she could answer he reached a hand towards her face.

For a second she thought he might touch her hair, and she held her breath, but his finger stopped just short of her. ‘Looking good,’ he said, and the roughness of his voice had gone, to be replaced by a softness she would never have thought he possessed.

‘Good, thanks. Paula had a problem, though.’

His pint landed in front of him, and a heavy hand shoved a gin and tonic towards her. She barely glanced at the man as she murmured her thanks.

Tommy took a long sip. ‘What problem?’ he asked.

She shrugged. ‘Something wrong with the conditioner they used; it might have been a colour or something.’ She shrugged again, allowing her oversized jumper to slip deliberately off one thin, tanned shoulder.

‘How’s that a problem?’ he asked, his eyes travelling to the bare patch of skin. ‘I’m sure it looked okay, didn’t it?’

‘I don’t know.’ Anna lowered her eyes. ‘She stormed out and I haven’t seen her since.’

Tommy’s face fell, and she knew she had got across what she wanted. That Paula had had a tantrum; that she was hiding somewhere on the ship in a sulk.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

An apology. On behalf of his wife. Interesting. She smiled at him. ‘It’s not your fault, is it?’

He ran his large hand over his closely cropped hair. ‘Nah, but she can be a bit…’ He trailed off helplessly.

Anna debated whether to cover his hand with hers, offer sympathy. All the while the unspoken words that she would never behave that way would hover between them.

But no, she decided, it was too soon.

He pushed back his chair half-heartedly. ‘I should track her down,’ he said, though he remained seated.