I look at him with all the discomfort you’d give someone you suspected of spiking your drink, but what I’m actually worried about is a barman trying a drink made by me, an amateur. Not that it matters – I’m not trying for a job here. But there’s just something about Freddie, something I like… something that makes me want to impress him.

‘Erm,’ I say hesitantly.

‘I can tell you if you did a good job,’ he says. ‘It sounds like you’ve been drinking indiscriminately all day – you won’t be a very good judge of quality, will you?’

Oh, God, I like it when he teases me.

‘Come on,’ he insists, nudging his drink towards me.

‘OK, fine, but if it’s horrible, please pretend it’s nice. It’s my first time. You don’t want to knock my confidence, do you?’

‘I’ll be gentle,’ he assures me.

As I slide my drink towards Freddie, he reaches for it at the same time and our hands collide. He lets his hand linger on mine and it feels really good… until my brain ruins it for me.

I just realised, all of a sudden, that while I’ve been here I’ve completely pushed Daniel out of my head. I feel so weirdly guilty, for being here with this guy, feeling happy and flirty, when I know I should technically be celebrating my wedding night right now. I’m doing the opposite, and enjoying it? That doesn’t seem right.

I quickly snatch my hand away and take an over-large gulp of my drink.

‘Ooh, that’s nice,’ I say. ‘I’ve probably had enough for one day though. I should get to bed.’

‘Okay,’ he replies. ‘Where are you staying? I can walk you back.’

‘No, don’t be daft. You stay here.’

‘There’s nothing here for me,’ he replies. ‘It’s no trouble.’

‘No, no, I’m fine,’ I insist, standing up, edging towards the door. ‘Thank for the drinks.’

‘You’re welcome,’ he calls after me.

As I walk up the hill, towards my villa, I mentally kick myself for feeling guilty, and being loyal to Daniel when it’s the last thing he deserves. He might not have cared that we were in a relationship, or that it was our wedding day, but I can’t just shut those things out of my head – not for more than a few minutes at least.

As delicious as those cocktails were, I’ve definitely had too much to drink today. Extenuating circumstances, your honour, but I still feel sick, and I’ll still feel hungover in the morning.

I let myself in and plonk myself on the sofa.

‘What the hell are you looking at?’ I ask the big purple dildo.

It doesn’t reply.

I feel so comfortable on the sofa, I don’t want to get back up. Instead, I grab the beach towel I removed from my suitcase earlier, and pull it over me. I can’t face sleeping in that bed tonight, not with all that romantic crap on and around it. I’ll clean it all up tomorrow and I’ll try to do better. I just need to get through tonight and I’m sure, in the morning, things won’t seem quite so bad.