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‘He looks like he’s been pebbledashed,’ Jane giggled.

‘The sand will set like concrete in this heat,’ Harold added.

As the passengers stared out to sea and Santa’s water sleigh pulled away, Armani reopened the coolers and turned the music back on. ‘Half an hour to go, folks!’ she said, topping up the drinks, as Noddy Holder belted out a song and everyone joined in.

So here it is, Merry Christmas,

everybody’s having fun!

Look to the future now.

It’s only just begun.

* * *

‘Merry Christmas, my backside!’ Dicky swore as he hurried down the corridor to his cabin. Stripping the sodden jacket from his shoulders, he hurled it to one side and cursed Peter. He must have known that a plane was due to land that morning. Flight times in St Maarten were always posted well ahead of time. There had been no risk to passengers situated safely by the crew further up the beach. Still, Dicky felt he should have been warned not to go near the water with a jumbo jet ready to land on his head. Why had no one told him the beach was notorious for jet blasts? The water taxi driver laughed at Dicky’s dilemma and told him plane spotters and video makers came from around the world to Maho beach to closely view aircraft on their flight path. Reaching his cabin, Dicky peeled off his boots and trousers and dumped them to one side.

Housekeeping could deal with that dripping lot.

But now, he had to scrape the sand off his face, shower, and prepare for the wretched Christmas sweater competition. Peter had promised that an outfit would be delivered to Dicky’s cabin, and as Dicky stepped in, he groaned when he saw a sweater on his bed.

‘No!’ Dicky roared. ‘Absolutely not. Not under any circumstances!’ he shouted to an empty room. Hopping on one leg, he stripped off his wet boxer shorts, then stomped into the bathroom. ‘You can stuff your Christmas sweater right up Santa’s chimney!’

* * *

Lunchtime in the Mermaid Theatre was a jolly affair. Having returned from the beach, after briefly freshening up, many guests wore their Christmas sweaters. They took seats to take part in the competition and those not joining in were dressed in Santa’s gifts.

The Captain, asleep at a front-row table, gripped a glow stick. His T-shirt depicted a snowman with a beer bottle and the wordsOn the Piste.

Harold was the first to join the Captain. His snug red shorts were teamed with a short-sleeved sweater displaying an image of a Christmas turkey and the straplineGobble Till You Wobble.

Kath, Jane, and Anne followed close behind.

‘Is Nancy with you?’ Kath asked.

‘She’s not herself.’ Harold frowned. ‘And I’ve left her to have a lie down.’

Kath recalled Nancy violently throwing up in her pixie hat. Remembering Nancy’s motion sickness, she wondered why Harold had let his wife take a trip in a boat.

‘She may join us later,’ Harold added, ‘she was hoping to scoop first prize.’

Anne ordered coffee, and as their drinks arrived, the band started to play a medley of seasonal tunes. ‘I wonder if they know this song?’ she asked and pointed to her chest. Her T-shirt had an image of Beyoncé with the titleAll the Jingle Ladies.

Kath sipped on a latte. She wore a pretty blouse trimmed with tinsel she’d found in the ship’s shop. Jane was wearing her new kaftan, and she’d pinned a hand-written note to the front with the wordsJingle Bell Rock.

‘My goodness.’ Kath stared ahead. ‘Is that Bridgette?’

A goblin-like figure hurried towards them, wearing a red cloak and hood. ‘Ta-dah!’ Bridgette cried as she approached their table. She flung her cloak open to reveal a flesh-coloured body stocking.I Only Get My Baubles Out Once A Year!was written on her chest, and two globe-shaped decorations jiggled as she moved.

Harold, drinking a pint of lager, spluttered and sprayed foam all over his turkey. ‘By heck, Bridgette,’ he said, ‘that’s a winning outfit.’

Selwyn strode through the room to join them. He still wore his Fedora but had changed into smart trousers and a shirt patterned with smiling snowmen. He’d added festive red braces.

‘Oh, you do look handsome,’ Kath said and patted the empty seat beside her.

‘Have I missed anything?’ Selwyn asked.

‘No, but things are about to begin.’