When I thought back over that first night's dinner and Ketty, I realised that, while the conversation had been lively around the table, Ketty had told us little about herself. My writer's sensibility was piqued. I began to create a story for her. She seemed to represent an elegant and accomplished example of an older woman, and I found my real-life dinner companion becoming the central character of my planned manuscript: the character around which all the others revolved. In my book, she became a clever, charming dressmaker, a sartorial fairy godmother with a gift for turning Cinderellas into princesses on a mission to transform the lives of those who join her at her dining table every evening.

Of course, cruises are rich pickings for authors and Ketty was not the only one to fall victim to my imagination. Leaning backwards in my chair I'd eavesdrop on conversations, trying to look nonchalant as I scribbled down dialogue in my notebook.

Strolling casually along the deck I would, nevertheless, be observing the older man I'd watched only the previous night seducing the merry widow who now accompanied him. I may have sounded gently polite, but my questions to the maitre d' about his life ashore masked an avid curiosity. No one was safe from my interest.

The cruise was over all too soon, and when I got home and the story began to flow, I realised there were elements I needed to know more about. More research was required, which led to another cruise. I had a string of questions and ideas to explore, but sadly there was no sign of Ketty.

Fact-finding became my priority. I decided the information desk was the best place to enquire about staff procedures. As we were 30 nautical miles from land in the Pacific Ocean, the officer may have looked a bit concerned when I asked if he could explain the steps to be followed if someone went missing on board! My explanation that I was a writer doing research, with a husband waiting safely at the bar, reassured him.

The book was finished by the time I took my next cruise but still I looked out for the elusive Ketty. The only things I know about her are that she lives in Brisbane, she's single and she's a regular cruiser. I wonder what she would think of the character I created from our brief meeting. I'll just have to keep cruising until I find her.

Table for Eight by Tricia Stringer (HQ) is on sale now.

This article appears in Sunday Life magazine within the Sun-Herald and the Sunday Age on sale November 4.