‘I know, don’t worry.’ I touched his hand through the wire and he gripped my finger. ‘I’ll be OK.’

‘No, no you won’t,’ he said, starting to cry. ‘Paco is… un hijo de puta.’ He scuffed his trainer in the dirt. ‘A bad, bad man.’

Tenoch could tell my mood had dipped later that afternoon when I’d tripped over the mop bucket and hurled both mop and bucket into the pool. We went down to the beachfront again for ice cream. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him about David’s visit but I knew he wouldn’t believe me and even if he did, maybe it would get David in trouble. I didn’t know what to do for the best.

An open-air tianguis was in full swing along one of the side streets – the stalls selling fruit and veg, second-hand clothes, street food sizzling away on hot griddles. A lady with a tray handed out slices of mango drizzled in tajin – a chilli sauce. Divine on every level. Brought my tongue back to life.

‘This is what it will be like for you now,’ he said as we bought our ice creams and headed for a vacant beach palapa to sit down. ‘No need to cover your face. See that vendor? He’s only giving you a second look because he thinks you’re beautiful.’

‘Am I?’

‘What?’ he said, licking the chopped nuts from his strawberry sundae.

‘Beautiful?’

‘Of course my girl is very beautiful.’

That made me feel like the sun was shining just for me – like everything there was for my happiness. The dazzling sea. The thumping musica norteña coming from the bars and souvenir shops, the rich sweet smells of the panaderia and fried camarones (shrimp) and whole pulpo (octopus) wafting up from the beach barbecue. We practised my backstory again – Where did you go to school? What job did you do up until the age of 21? What was your mother’s maiden name? – until I’d answered every question without stuttering.

‘You are ready for your new life now. Start living it.’

People walked dogs, jogged, milled about buying souvenirs and conversing with friends. The fonditas and beachfront cafés thronged with people sitting out eating some of the largest bowls of soup and stuffed tortillas I’d ever seen. I ate half of my ice cream and tossed the rest in the trash – my heartburn was biting too hard to enjoy it.

‘You are too quiet this afternoon,’ Tenoch said, as we watched a boat drift into shore and two fishermen bring in the day’s catch.