Ryan Prosser extended a hand in greeting. He had caramel curls and muscles that belonged in the Uffizi Gallery with the other works of art. He looked like AJ but older, good-lookinger and with a bigger bulge. If I’d been in Full On Ho Mode, I’d have been locked on to Peen Land, no question, but childbirth and the pressing issue of life on the run had a lot to answer for.

Ty held out his little pudding hand to me too and I took it gladly.

‘You can come line dancing tonight now, petal, can’t yer?’ said Glo excitedly. ‘I can’t get any of this lot to come with me. And we’ll set another place on our table at dinner. No need for you to be lonely at least.’

‘Thanks, Gloria,’ I said. ‘That’d be… bonza!’

And they swooshed their big family cloak around me and gathered me in. Exactly like I needed them to.

Wednesday, 2 January – Cadiz

1. People who refer to their other halves as their ‘partner in crime’
2. Fat celebrities who lose a shitload of weight then whack it all back on a year later after the workout DVD’s done the rounds
3. German bodybuilder in the gym who manspreads at the pec press machine right in front of my rowing machine. Today his cock fell out of his shorts. And he knew it. And he smiled.
4. Fake-assed bitches on reality shows – hair, tits, nails, lenses. Even though, technically, I am the bitches. And this is my reality show.
5. That rap twat, 6ix9ine

I did go line dancing with Gloria. I had no excuses not to. And lemme tell you, if you ever want a laugh, go line dancing. If you want a bigger laugh, go line dancing with a serial killer who’s trying to appear normal by line dancing.

The sight of myself in the studio mirror boogying my scootin’ boots, throwing down hoes, turning Monterrey and heel-toe steppin’ with hitches and kicks almost pushed me over the edge into endless hysterics.

It wasn’t lost on me how ridiculous my life had become in such a short space of time. But the experience further cemented my vanilla façade and that was all that mattered. Not that the Huggins murder had made the news yet – it was still all Brexit and plane crashes. And I have to admit, I was kind of relieved. Another day under the radar was a chance to get even further from the UK.

The itinerary and Cruise Letter had been slipped under the door when I got back to my cabin, serving to remind me where I was and how long I had left. After all, this wasn’t a holiday – it was a countdown.