Resentful, too. I was game, wasn’t I? I took up the challenge, I did the naked bit, I gave up wearing clothes for him, didn’t I? I put cream on his sunburn, fed him painkillers, and he does this to me?

It’s a long, silent and very miserable journey home.

LOT 9

Ossie Clark for Radley ‘traffic light’ dress, midi, yellow, green and red skirt, with black bodice, mid-1970s, with yellow-self-covered buttons and yellow trim, deep plunge neckline.

In need of a sympathetic shoulder to cry on, I call in on Lucy when I get back and she makes hot chocolates with marshmallows then sits on the sofa in the lotus position, cupping her mug in her hands, while I tell her about the break-up.

I leave out the shameful part, the fact it was a naturist resort, for the same reason that I don’t tell anyone I’m afraid of dogs; I always try to hide my weaknesses.

‘I didn’t even realise you and Mick were that serious about each other,’ she says frankly when I come to the end of the story.

My eyes swim with tears. She’s right, of course. I’ve never kidded myself that Mick was The One, but what it feels like is another failure and I’ve got enough of that in my life as it is. ‘I thought we were okay together, you know? That we suited each other. And didn’t ask for too much.’

‘Aw, Fern. Men, eh. Don’t worry, you’ll find someone else,’ she says. ‘Someone better. Smarter.’

‘Smarter,’ I repeat wistfully, my thoughts jumping to David, who’s always smart even in jeans. I’ve never even seen him with his hair ruffled. ‘Maybe I’ll even find someone who wears polished brown shoes.’

She laughs. ‘That’s weirdly specific. Listen, this is the way I see it. Dating is like an audition. You win some, you lose some, but you can’t take it personally – it has to be the right person for the part, do you know what I’m saying? Like Christian Bale in American Psycho. They wanted Leonardo DiCaprio but, in the end, Christian Bale played the role of Patrick Bateman and smashed it, right?’

I’m not sure where this line of reasoning is going, but I nod. ‘That’s true.’

‘So what you have to ask yourself through the pain is, was Mick the right person for the role?’

I think of all the times my heart lifted when I listened to his gorgeous voice, and the times I met him at airports and snuggled up to the lovely warmth of his beard. But now it’s superimposed by the image of shiny brown shoes. God, I realise despairingly, I am superficial. I consider her analogy. ‘What happens if the person who you really want for the part has already got a part in someone else’s production?’