The waiter returned soon after with a teapot and poured Siobhan a cup. She stirred in a heaped teaspoon of sugar and seemed to look around for milk. We were in America, where they serve tea with lemon—yuk. I looked up at the waiter. “We’ll need some milk, too, please.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said before disappearing at warp speed. Had I been quick enough to catch him, I would have grabbed his ear and twisted it, telling him never to call me “ma’am” again. He returned moments later with a small jug of milk.

Siobhan, usually so gracious and full of life, didn’t even acknowledge the waiter. Instead, she tipped half of the milk into her tea and, not even bothering to stir it, took a giant gulp. She sat back in her chair and, only then, took her sunglasses off.

“Late night?” I teased gently. I was rewarded with a small smile and I was pleased to see that no matter how tired or hungover she was, her good humour was still intact.

“You could say that, yes.” She took another gulp of tea. “I’ll be right as rain when this kicks in.” I’m all about the restorative powers of tea, so I completely understood.

“So, what time did you get in?” asked Josh.

“Five.”

“Five this morning?” I asked, incredulous. Siobhan was a few years older than me and people my age did not stay out until five in the morning. And if we did, we didn’t roll out of bed until at least noon. It was 8:00am.

She nodded again but said nothing. I’d only known her a short time, but she was usually a lot chattier. She must have had a huge night.

“So, lots to drink then?” asked Josh, probing. I threw him another look, this one to silence him.

Siobhan drained her cup and signalled to the ever-present waiter to bring more. He was clearly a smart guy and had already foreseen the need, refilling her cup almost as soon as she lifted her hand to wave him over. She doctored it with milk and sugar and took a sip. By now, I was on the edge of my seat.

“It was a brilliant night,” she said, finally and very, very quietly. “There was drink, yes, but not as much as you might think. But the best thing was that there was sex, lots of lovely, lovely sex.” And then she threw her head back and laughed that infectious Siobhan laugh, the kind that inhabited her whole body. Josh and I couldn’t help but join in.

“Oooph,” she added. “I’m not even hungover, just tired. We did drift in and out of sleep through the night—you know, in between. I’ve probably slept about three hours, though, hence the need for gallons of tea.” She made a wide-eyed face that made me laugh some more. “I had him drop me off on his way to work.”

“He goes to work that early?” asked Josh.

“Some days, yes. Apparently, they do these sunrise sailing trips.” Josh scrunched his face up. I was with him. I was a morning person—I was usually at the gym by six—but I wouldn’t want to start work that early.