I look around with pleasure as we drive along the seafront. Big Georgian houses, painted white and cream with the odd rebel blue, line the road overlooking the turquoise-painted railings that guard the entrance to the beach. The grey mass of the Atlantic Ocean is topped with white horses that hurl themselves onto the pale dun of the shingle beach.

It’s a dreary day, but my spirits still lift at the sight of the sea, and I wind my window down so I can inhale the scent of the salty air.

“Why don’t you just lean out of the window with your tongue out?” Misha questions.

I laugh as we draw up outside the hotel. This proves to be a cream-painted four-storey Georgian building.

“It’ll be fine,” I say. He looks at me queryingly, and I elaborate. “The weekend.”

I’d have been better off saving the convincing for myself. A half hour later, I stand at the window of my hotel room looking down at the view of the water and the pier. Night is drawing in, and the lights of the pier glow in the dim light. The distant sound of music can be heard even through the window.

I turn back to the room and sigh at the sight of the big bed. It’s made up with expensive linens and looks lush and inviting. Just right for a dirty weekend. However, the only thing I want to do is crawl under that heavy crinkly duvet, rest my head on the squishy pillows, and sleep for a week. I think about what Harry’s reaction might be if I tell him that and sigh. It wouldn’t be complimentary. He’s expecting this weekend to be a complete sex fest to make up for the fact that I haven’t wanted sex for weeks. He actually told me that, and I’d laughed at him even while knowing he wasn’t joking.

I sigh. Great. Sex is now an obligation to be filed alongside paying the utility bills and getting my arse crack waxed. It never used to be like this. I love sex. I have since I lost my virginity at fifteen to my boyfriend at the time. I love it gentle and soft and wild and raunchy. I love it in all its forms and nothing makes me wilder. But for the last month, I’d rather have had a cup of tea and an early night. The thought of someone on top of me moaning and groaning just makes me feel weary.