When Lucy finally awoke on the Sunday morning, the sun was bright through the cabin porthole. Rolling over to check the time, she noticed a text message from Tim, which had been sent at 1.30 am. It read: “Check your email. Sorry. Tim x”. Virginia was still asleep on the top bunk, pillow over her face against the sunlight that reflected off the water below, one leg dangling out from under the duvet. Choosing not to open her laptop to check email as directed, Lucy decided to go and find Tim and ha...