‘You.’ She shoves him again, as hard as she can and feels satisfaction burn in her chest as he’s forced to take a backwards step.

‘No you’re not.’

‘Yes I am.’ She barrels into him again, and again and again, until her forearms ache and her breath is in her throat and her head is throbbing and then she collapses against him – exhausted, empty, spent. As he wraps his arms around her she wants to scream at him that she hates him for making her hit him but she’s crying so much she can’t speak.

‘Okay?’ Tom asks as they pass through the gate to the hotel and make their way towards the stone chalet bedrooms.

Jenna nods mutely.

‘Jenna?’

She feels spent, as though every ounce of energy in her body has been drained away. ‘I’m okay. I’ll—’

‘Tom?’ a woman calls. She’s standing on the path between the first two chalets.

‘Kate.’

Jenna hears the tension in Tom’s voice and when she looks at him his body is tense, as though primed for a fight.

‘She sounds pissed off …’ she begins, but Tom touches her arm, silencing her.

‘I’ll see you later, at dinner.’

He walks off before she can reply, heading for Kate. As he gets closer he steps off the path, swerving around her, but Kate grabs him by the wrist, forcing him to stop. Jenna watches their body language as they talk: Kate’s staccato hand movements and Tom’s dismissive shrug. They’re arguing. Kate’s voice grows louder. ‘We’ll talk about this in your chalet,’ she snaps then she yanks at his arm and pulls him into the darkness of the complex. Jenna watches until they disappear from view, then she slips off her flip-flops and jogs after them, her dressing gown belt loosening and then falling away as her cold feet silently pound the smooth paving slabs. She’s not sure why she’s following them but she can’t stop herself.

She jogs through the dark alleys between the chalets, slowing as she hears the shrill sound of Kate’s voice and Tom’s bass tones. She’s nearly at the end of the path. There’s one last chalet, set apart from the rest. She moves closer. Kate and Tom are just around the corner, and they’re still arguing.

‘You seem determined to screw everything up,’ Kate snaps.

‘How is helping out a client screwing everything up?’

Jenna’s stomach clenches. He’s talking about her.

‘I saw how you looked at her. In London, on the plane, just now.’

‘It’s called compassion, Kate.’

‘Compassion? Listen to yourself, Tom. It’s me you’re talking to here, not one of the guests.’

‘I’m just trying to help her.’

‘You’re trying to fuck her.’