She glanced around, grateful for the solid brick walls that divided her from the deck to the left, and Paula’s Expedition Suite to the right. The white walls were floor-to-ceiling, offering total privacy from all angles, meaning she could work in peace; the only possibility of exposure was a passing ship or sailing too close to land on the starboard side.

There was only one sticking point: she needed to find a spanner.

Dusting off her hands, she pulled herself upright and walked back inside, closing the doors behind her.

‘We’re docking again today. D’you want to get off the ship for a while?’ asked Tommy as they sat down to breakfast in the restaurant.

Paula looked over the menu half-heartedly. What she really wanted was to go home, to be safe in her own house, with the electric gates and the burglar alarms, and call her regular salon to make an appointment to sort out her damn hair.

She put the menu down and pulled some strands of hair around to inspect them. The covering mascara had all gone now, and the horrid orange bits were even worse than she remembered. Pulling a band out of her bag, she twisted her hair up and tied it in a bun.

‘Babe?’ prompted Tommy. ‘Do you want to get off and have a look around?’

‘Where are we docking?’ she asked. ‘And for how long?’

‘Åndalsnes, in Norway,’ replied Tommy as he stuffed a bread roll in his mouth. ‘It’s the last stop before Iceland, so if you want to stretch your legs, now’s your chance.’

It was all ‘you’, she thought as she pretended to peruse the menu again. She remembered a time when Tommy had planned outings for the two of them, whether it be a picnic in the park when they were students, or a night at The Ritz when he first started earning a good wage. These days, he didn’t seem too concerned if she didn’t come along with him. If she didn’t get off the ship in Åndalsnes, he would probably hook up with Dermot, or one of the other fishing boys, or even a complete stranger. They would wind up in a little bar, the beers would flow, Tommy would get boisterous and loud.

On the other hand, the Ruby Spirit was becoming claustrophobic, and if this was the last chance to step onto dry land before the three-day sail to Iceland, she thought she should take it. But there were things to be dealt with first.

‘Did you report my attack?’ she asked, lowering her voice so the neighbouring table couldn’t hear her.

Tommy stared at her. ‘I’m going to ask why the gate wasn’t closed,’ he said carefully.