‘Tonight, fellow passengers, may prove a lucky night, as the forecast is clearer than previous evenings. Not only do you have the chance to see the promised Northern Lights, but also shooting stars from the Leonids as well as the waxing gibbous moon, cloud cover permitting.

‘So, midnight walkers, make sure you look up to the skies if you are taking a late-night stroll on the upper deck, and keep your eyes open for some unexpected surprises!’

Chapter 11

Paula groaned as Tommy shook her awake. She batted him away, pulling the quilt over her head.

‘Wake up!’ he hissed.

She lunged through the fog of sleep, arms windmilling as she struggled out of the covers.

‘What’s wrong?’ she cried. Glancing at the glowing digits of the clock, she saw it was 2:30 a.m.

Tommy loomed over her, fully dressed, pulling his coat on. ‘It’s a clear sky!’ he said excitedly. ‘We’re going up to the deck to see if we can see the Northern Lights.’ He did a funny little dance on the spot, his excitement apparent as he thrust a glass at her. ‘Drink this, it’ll wake you up.’

Paula put a hand on her thumping heart and scrubbed at her face. ‘It’s the middle of the night.’

In the darkness of the cabin, his face glowed white in the moonlight. She saw something in his eyes, a disappointment, and her heart sank at causing him hurt. ‘Give me a second, let me just get dressed,’ she said.

She accepted what she thought was a glass of water from him and threw it back. ‘This is vodka!’ she gasped, coughing and spluttering.

He nodded eagerly and brandished the bottle, topping up her glass. ‘It’ll keep you warm, it’s gonna be cold on deck.’

Still clutching the bottle, he moved away to the window, peering out anxiously.

As she pulled on her jeans, she caught a glimpse of the pillow, and the black stains that adorned it. The hair mascara. If it was on the pillow, it meant it was no longer on her hair. She would need a hat. She shivered. Tommy was right, it was cold. She swallowed back the vodka and held out her glass for him to refill it again.

He grinned at her, and suddenly, standing half dressed in the middle of the night, she was reminded of how they used to be, back when they were teenagers. It was a good feeling, and she giggled, already light-headed. Impulsively she planted a kiss on his lips.

‘Go,’ she said. ‘I’ll meet you on the upper deck.’

He grinned, shoving the bottle of vodka at her as he hurried from the room.

In his wardrobe she found his hat, big enough to stuff her hair inside. She put it on without looking in the mirror and vowed again that she would be outside the salon door when they opened in seven hours.