He sits forward and begins playing with a little tray of sand on the table, drawing patterns in it with the miniature rake that sits alongside it.

‘Her ex is always around,’ Freddie says. ‘And sometimes I think she still thinks about him. He tried to make a fool of me today, over a silly mistake, and she didn’t really speak up about it.’

‘That’s not fair,’ I insist. ‘I know you don’t like it, but he did save me. And I know what you did was an accident, but the consequences still would have been bad.’

‘What happened?’ Arnold asks.

‘I tried to kill her,’ Freddie says.

In perfect synchronicity, both Victoria’s and Arnold’s jaws drop.

‘Usual couple stuff,’ I say, deadpan, before quickly clearing things up, so they don’t call the Carabinieri. ‘He accidentally nearly fed me something I’m allergic to.’

The second these words leave my lips, I realise just how daft they sound.

‘I can’t believe you think I still think about Daniel,’ I say to Freddie.

‘We’re literally taking part in a competition against him, just so we can win,’ he reminds me.

‘Which you have been more than happy to take part in,’ I point out.

‘And then today… “Oh, Daniel. Oh, Daniel. Daniel, you’re my hero.”’

‘Is that supposed to be my voice?’ I ask him. ‘You sound like Dick Van Dyke.’

‘So do you,’ he replies.

‘That’s a mean thing to say out of jealousy,’ I point out, although I'm not sure I mean it. The idea of me being able to do anything to make Freddie jealous is laughable.

‘Okay, let’s slow things down a little, shall we?’ Victoria suggests. ‘Freddie, you think that Lila might not be over her ex and that she’s spending too much time thinking about him/around him.’

‘Yep,’ he replies.

‘Lila,’ she continues. ‘You think Freddie is exaggerating these issues because perhaps his ego is bruised, or maybe he’s jealous?’

‘I think you’ve got it in one,’ I reply.

‘How long would you say you’ve been having these relationship problems?’ Arnold asks us.

‘I’d say about an hour and a half,’ I reply.

Arnold begins to write this down in an almost robotic way, but halfway through he realises this is an incredibly short amount of time.

‘So you’ve had a falling out?’ Arnold confirms. ‘Today?’

‘Yes,’ I reply, feeling a bit daft.

‘Any other issues in your relationship?’ he asks.

Freddie and I look at each other.

‘No,’ he tells Arnold, while still looking at me.

‘Okay, I’m going to tell you a story,’ Arnold begins.

Arnold is a gentleman who I’d guess is in his late fifties. He wears these tiny glasses on the end of his nose that he only looks through when he’s writing. While much younger Victoria seems like a progressive therapist, Arnold looks like your textbook psychiatrist – like the visual representation you see in a movie so that you instantly know what you are looking at. I imagine Valentine Island is the last stop on his journey before he retires. There are certainly worse places to work, even if you are dealing with the ridiculous problems of couples all day.