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something else, wouldn't she?
    “There's a library, I think,” said Jonathan and collapsed on the bed with his shoes on. Andrea left him to it. She wasn't going to stay where she wasn't wanted. The ship had just started to sail and she grabbed one of the handrails along the corridor for support. Hopefully she would get her sea legs eventually. It was such a long time since she'd sailed. It always reminded her of her father.
    Sometimes she missed him so much that she didn't want any reminders.
    She went up on deck to watch as people waved off their friends and families. Andrea scanned the crowd for something to do. Had she really expected someone to wave them off when they didn't even know where they were? No one even knew they were married.
    People were throwing streamers at the ship and Andrea turned away, her eyes wet for no reason that she could fathom.
    She strolled along the deck feeling the wind in her hair and the waves beneath her feet. She stood looking over the rail at the Mediterranean, sparkling blue green and gold in the sunlight. There was an open-air cafe next to the swimming pool. Andrea sat down on one of the plastic chairs and ordered an orange juice. The waiter brought her a glass with a long straw and a little parasol in the top. Andrea thanked him and wished Jonathan would tell her what was wrong.
    They were married now. Why did he still insist on keeping secrets? If he was ill again she wanted to know. She didn't want him to suffer in silence. Right, Andrea. Like you always tell him everything about you?
    “Mind if I join you?” asked a voice. Andrea looked up, shading her eyes from the sun with her hand. A woman stood there. She was dressed all in white. White shorts, white top and a white jumper thrown casually over her shoulders and the arms tied loosely at her chest. Her long blonde hair was held back by a pair of expensive looking sunglasses. For one horrible moment Andrea thought it was Suzanne, Jonathan's most recent ex. She looked so like her.
    “If you like,” said Andrea although she was in no mood for company. She had never learned the art of saying no gracefully, so she hardly ever said it at all.
    “I'm Lucy,” said the woman extending a finely manicured hand. The nails were painted a very light pink, hardly noticeable. She wore no rings, wedding or otherwise.
    “I do hate travelling alone, don't you?” asked Lucy.
    “I'm with my husband,” said Andrea and then added in a whisper, “We're on our honeymoon.”
    “Oh? Where is he then?” asked Lucy with a grin.
    “He's having a lie down.”
    “You've worn him out already!” laughed Lucy.
    Andrea got up from her chair, the blush reaching from her toes right up to her hair.
    “Excuse me. I don't know you and I don't think I'd be friends with anyone who teases someone they hardly know.”
    “But we can be friends,” said Lucy and Andrea watched in fascinated horror as Lucy moved her hair aside and showed Andrea the scar on her neck. She concentrated on the chair digging into her back and not on the thought of Lucy's neck. And the scar almost identical to the one on her own neck
    “See, we have something in common,” said Lucy.
    “We don't.”
    “Why deny it? We both know it's true. It was the same man who attacked us.”
    It didn't help that Lucy looked remarkably like Suzanne. Andrea couldn't help comparing the two of them, even though she knew it was wrong. She hated Suzanne, how could she be friends with someone who constantly reminded her of how Jonathan had once loved someone else?
    “Oh, please!” gasped Lucy. “I'm nothing like Suzanne.”
    “You can read minds too?” asked Andrea, wondering why this conversation didn't feel as strange as it should.
    “Of course. Can't you?” Lucy said it as though it was as natural as eating or breathing. Maybe it was natural to her, but Andrea still found it difficult to feel at ease with it. Lucy looked beyond Andrea at someone walking towards them. Andrea turned around