There probably wasn’t enough concealer in the world to handle my tragedy of a face, but I did my best, disguising my red-rimmed eyes and Rudolph nose. I added some mascara—waterproof, just in case—and a swoop of blush. I dotted some translucent powder over the top and appraised my work.

At least it was FaceTime and not face to face. Maybe I could sit next to a window, so he could only see me in silhouette, like they do on 60 Minutes.

“Lins?” I called out the bathroom door. After a moment, she popped her head around the corner.

“Well?” I asked, holding my arms out wide.

“You look fine,” she said.

“Fine? Is that all?” I looked at myself in the mirror. She was right, but sometimes I wished she lie to me. Still, “fine” would have to do as I was running out of time. I sighed. “Okay, let’s get this over with.”

“That’s the spirit,” she teased.

I followed her back into the living room, where I rifled through my carry-on bag for my iPad. “You know what I mean. What if his big news is that he’s getting married?”

She didn’t dignify my idiotic question with a response. I plopped down on the couch and Lindsey sat on the one opposite me. “Are you going to listen in?” I asked.

“I don’t have to.” She started to get up.

“No, no, stay. Sorry.” I stared at the iPad. Then, being the master procrastinator, I called my cat. “Dom-i-noooooo. Here, baby.” Nothing. As I said, he’s his own cat. I chanced a glance at Lins and she gave me a look that said, “Get on with it, you wuss”.

I took a deep breath, turned on the iPad, and tapped the FaceTime icon. I tapped Josh’s name, which was at the top of the list, and after two rings, his face appeared on the screen. A wave of happiness flooded over me and without guile or conscious thought, I grinned. It was Josh. And I’d missed his face.

“Hi!” he exclaimed. “You look great! How are you?” I laughed; his joy was irresistible.

“Great! Good, yes.” It wasn’t even a lie. “And thank you,” I added.

“So, you’re away for the weekend?” I’d already forgotten the lie I’d told to stave him off, but I quickly recovered.

“Yes, sort of, but I’m back in Sydney now.” Then I remembered it was only Saturday. “I mean, we just went away for a couple of days.” Great, I’d introduced a “we” into the lie. I said I recovered quickly; I did not say I recovered well.

Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice. “Oh, that’s right—school holidays. I guess that means every day is like a weekend.” He grinned at me from the screen and I felt a pang of guilt for the lie—and any others I’d have to tell to save his feelings.

“So, you said you’ve got some news?” Please let it be good. And by that I meant anything that didn’t perpetuate the whole “vacationship” situation.