My head pivoted so fast I’m surprised I didn’t get whiplash. Standing next to our sunset nest was a stunningly beautiful woman with long chestnut hair, large brown eyes, and cheekbones so high, they could have cut diamonds. She could have been cast as Wonder Woman or a Charlie’s Angel. I hated her as soon as I saw her. Mostly because I am, at heart, massively insecure.

James, ever cool, ever composed James, coughed on his drink and stood up so quickly, he nearly toppled the table. “Portia.” Portia??? You’ve got to be kidding me. The goddess’s name is frigging Portia?! “Wow.” A laugh I’d never heard from him bubbled out awkwardly. “What a surprise.” I’ll say.

He stepped over my legs—again, he stepped over me—and gave the goddess a hug. I hated her even more. And was I supposed to stand or say “hello” or just sit there like a plain little idiot?

The goddess beamed at him, holding his forearms as she regarded him. “You look well, James,” she said in a clipped English accent. That’s something an ex-lover says. My inner voice could be impressively astute at times.

“You too.” James was smiling back at her and the moment seemed to be frozen in time. I still didn’t know what to do. Then James seemed to remember himself, “Portia, this is Sarah.” He turned around to indicate that I was the Sarah in question.

She smiled at me and I couldn’t decipher if I saw pity, condescension, or bafflement at what the hell James was doing with me—maybe it was all three. I stood then—literally standing my ground—and when I did, I was glad I’d changed into my boots. I towered over Portia by a couple of inches.

I stretched out my hand and positioned a pleasant smile on my face. She had to let go of my boyfriend in order to shake it, so it was a good move on my part. “Hello, nice to meet you,” I said in my most grown-up voice.

“And you,” she said, her smile blatantly disingenuous. “And this is my husband, Stephen,” she said turning towards a pleasant-looking tall man with a mop of curly brown hair. He leant across her to shake James’s hand, and I watched James closely. Then Stephen offered to shake mine, which I did as though the whole exchange between the four of us was perfectly normal.

“So, are you on holiday?” asked James, his voice sounding tight.

“Yes, actually. Well, sort of. Stephen had some business in Auckland, and I tagged along. This is our last stop. Isn’t it just divine?”

I found myself nodding in agreement. Stephen smiled and nodded along with me. Portia seemed to be driving the conversation and I was relieved when she said, “Well, we’ll leave you to it. Nice to have seen you, James, and nice to have met you, Sarah.”

We said our goodbyes and Stephen threw in, “Enjoy your evening,” before they left. The whole thing was ridiculously civilised for what was obviously the reunion of former lovers. Grown-ups do weird things sometimes. James and I sat down and picked up our drinks. He looked out at the sinking sun, a small frown on his face. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say, so I said nothing.