Page 136 of So, I Met This Guy . . .

‘Crikey, it’s like being in an episode of Midsomer Murders, but at sea,’ said Valentine, buttering a roll.

‘Please, can we change the subject, all this talk is making me quite nervous!’ Mrs Soft-Serve began fanning herself.

‘Don’t worry, you’re in safe hands on the Galaxy Goddess,’ assured the captain. ‘I run a tight ship. Anyone breaking the law would be swiftly dealt with.’

He shot a look at her husband, which made it clear he didn’t find him as funny as the husband found himself, before turning to Flick.

‘Rest assured, the only headlines we’ll be making will be for being the best cruise ship in the world.’

And it was right at that moment that Maggie heard a distinctive laugh from across the other side of the restaurant and felt the hairs go up on the back of her neck.

She’d know that laugh anywhere.

Glancing over, she caught a glimpse of Birdy. He must be at the same table, but her view was blocked by the back of a large passenger in a velvet tuxedo . . . and then suddenly the broad shoulders moved and she saw him.

The Man Who Stole Her Life.

Flick heard the laughter too. Saw the reaction on Maggie’s face and knew immediately.

Oh My God. It’s him. He’s here.

They both stared at each other across the table. Their minds racing. Shocked and yet not shocked. What did they do now? Protocol said they couldn’t leave the table before the captain, but the main course was being served and he’d just launched into an anecdote about the time he steered them into safety during a storm.

‘. . . the wind was picking up to fifty-two knots, so I said batten the hatches, we’re in for a long night . . .’

And a long anecdote, thought Flick, looking desperately at Maggie, who returned an anguished grimace.

For a few minutes they sat tight as the captain droned on.

And on.

And on.

Right through the entire main course and second helpings of vegetables.

‘. . . and I said to my first officer, this is going to make some helluva story!’

Finally, after their plates were cleared away, Flick could take it no more and broke into applause.

‘Bravo! What a story!’

‘Oh, I’m only getting started.’ He gave a flattered laugh. ‘Wait until you hear what happened next—’

But Maggie couldn’t wait. After all this time, after everything they’d both gone through, they’d caught up with him at last. They had to do something.

‘Please excuse me, the powder room calls,’ she interrupted, putting down her glass and pushing back her chair. It was now or never.

‘Me too!’ Flick jumped up.

‘Goodness, was it something I said?’ The captain looked taken aback.

‘I think it might have been the prawn cocktail starter,’ apologized Flick.

‘Oh no, are you allergic to shellfish?’ gasped Mrs Soft-Scoop. ‘So is my friend and she blew up like a balloon.’

But Flick and Maggie were already hurrying away from the table. Only the sweet course was now being served and as they tried to make their way across the restaurant a swarm of desert trolleys appeared.

‘Sorry . . .’