It transpired there was a weekend shopping cruise from the Crimea returning to Balaclava on the following day. The helpful Erol said he would go with her to the shipping office. It took them ages back on the other side of the Golden Horn to find it. Agatha was grateful for Erol’s company because nobody spoke English. She booked a double cabin, not wanting to share with anyone.

Back at the hotel, the ever-obliging Erol told her he was busy that evening but he would take her along to the ship early the following afternoon and see her off.

Agatha phoned her friend Sir Charles Fraith. ‘Where are you?’ he asked.

‘In Istanbul.’

‘Great city, Aggie, but you’re supposed to be taking a rest. Wouldn’t a beach holiday have been better?’

‘I don’t like beach holidays. I’ve met a nice man.’

‘Aha!

‘He’s really very kind. Reminds me of Mrs Bloxby.’

‘Aha!’

‘Aha, what?’ demanded Agatha crossly.

‘He must be a very normal, decent man.’

‘He is.’

‘I thought so. If he had been unattainable or mad, bad and dangerous to know, you’d have fallen for him.’

‘You think you know me but you don’t!’ snapped Agatha and rang off.

In the taxi on the road to the boat the next day, Agatha asked Erol about himself, but she barely listened as he explained he owned a small publishing company. In her mind, Agatha was already leaning on the rail of a white cruise ship while a handsome man stood beside her and looked into her eyes as the moon rose over the Black Sea.

The ship was a shock. It was a Russian rust bucket. In vain did they search for another ship; Agatha’s ticket was only valid for the tramp steamer.

‘It’s all right,’ Agatha said to Erol. ‘It’ll get me there. Thanks for all your help.’

She was assisted by the crew over piles of goods. The decks were blocked with cargo. As she stumbled down to her cabin, she noticed that even the fire exits were also blocked with cargo.

Then Agatha realized to her horror that in her haste she had forgotten to say goodbye to Erol or get his card. She dashed back up on deck but Erol had gone.

The other few passengers were Ukrainian women, and the crew were all Russian. None spoke English. Soup was all Agatha could eat at dinner. The ship had not moved. She retired to her cabin and read herself to sleep.