Tenoch Espinoza, Hacienda Santuario, Camino Cabo Este, Rocas Calientes. No reply to my message with further explanations.

Around an hour before our meeting point at the gold shop, we stopped for refreshments in an outdoor café overlooking the square. Rhiannon wanted a pizza, every flavour cannoli and a proper hot chocolate – Hilary ordered grilled sea bream and a papaya and mango frullato.

‘On us,’ said Jayde as I fumbled in my bag for my purse. ‘No arguments.’

Bardot and Gareth were paying when we spotted them. Gareth was fumbling about in his wife’s handbag for the money – well, I’m guessing it was money. Certainly wasn’t to find his fucking balls.

‘Hi guys, you having a good time?’ asked Bardot, specifically to Jayde and Ryan without so much as a glance at me. I was playing funny faces with Ty. I mimicked Bardot’s face and he fell about his chair laughing.

‘Yeah, good thanks,’ said Ryan. Gareth got out some caricature they’d had done of him and Bardot by a street artist – the guy clearly had talent. He’d depicted Bardot as some sort of devil with smoke emanating from her nostrils. She wasn’t amused. Gareth smiled. A lot.

It wasn’t their fault, Ryan and Jayde’s. They were distracted, getting directions for an artisan chocolate shop nearby. But it did mean that I was the only one who had focus. The only one who saw her coming.

A shabby blonde with fierce black eyebrows and chipped nails. I’d seen her lingering outside the church when we’d arrived and the only reason she’d piqued my interest was because I can smell a wrong-un at ten paces. It’s one of my gifts, along with ready-made sarcasm and terrific hand jobs.

There wasn’t a discernible trait to set her apart from any one of the thousands of other people I’d glanced at that day – it was an instinct. She was up to something. Ready to pounce on a handbag, was my first guess. I watched her like a razor-eyed hawk.

‘Do the face again,’ Ty whined opposite. ‘Do it, Hilly.’ He’d climbed on his chair and was bending down to his plate picking off the flakes from his sfogliatelle. We were by the rope separating the café from the busy square.

And the woman was floating closer to the café, pretending to be on her phone but her eyes weren’t on it – they were on us. Our table. Sauntering. Eyes flicking up like a crocodile’s. My fingers lengthened. My heart pounded. With no further warning, she reached across the café ropes and snatched Ty by the waist, hoisting him up and disappearing into the crowds before anyone else saw what had happened.