What do I say? Do I tell her that each time the boat picks up an Internet signal I get another stream of emails? I had managed to convince myself after the first one that I could resist looking, but in the middle of last night when I couldn’t sleep I knew it wasn’t going to work. I had to find out what Ian had to say, what he’s threatening, what he’s planning for my return. I only read one message, but it was enough.

I’ve had a great idea! I know it irritates you when I play games on the telly and it stops you from watching those crap American dramas that you appear to enjoy for some reason, so when I saw there was an offer on TVs I decided to shift things round in the spare room and make it into my man den. I’ve applied for interest-free credit on the telly, so it should all be sorted by the time you’re back.

He’s ignoring everything I said before I came on holiday. He thinks he has me beaten and if he pretends it never happened, I will give in.

‘It’s just man trouble,’ I tell Thea.

‘Ah. That can be the worst, because logic may say one thing while emotion says another. Do you love him?’

And to think I considered it intrusive to ask her about children! There is something compelling about her voice, though, and maybe it is the extra couple of glasses of wine I had with lunch, but I find myself almost eager to unburden myself.

‘I have a boyfriend. Or had. I don’t love him, but I did rely on him when I was going through a bad time.’

I don’t want to admit that I made such a terrible choice of partner, but I find myself blurting out the whole story, the words tumbling from my lips unrestrained. I know I’m going to regret this later, but I don’t seem able to stop.

‘The house we live in is mine – well, mine and the building society’s, I suppose. My grandfather gave me some money – an advance on my inheritance, he called it. I have a job which I love, but since moving to Manchester my boyfriend hasn’t managed to find anything that suits someone of his calibre.’ I try, and fail, to keep the sarcastic tone from my voice. ‘He just sits around drinking and listening to music all day.’

‘You mean he lives off you,’ Thea says, tucking her chin into her chest and raising her eyebrows as if to underline my naivety.

‘I suppose so. Before I came away I told him that we’re finished, but he won’t accept it. I can’t stay with him. And I think he’s lost it completely.’