She’s wearing a gold one-piece, although to call it a one-piece seems generous, it’s maybe a third of a one-piece, thanks to the fact it has more cut-outs than a paper snowflake. Her bottom half is covered by a pair of black harem pants – I’d imagine (or at least really, really hope) that she had some kind of top on for the journey, which she whipped off the second she arrived.

As Ali hurries over to me, dragging her suitcase along behind her, she turns the head of every man in the room. A sixty-something man has an especially good gawp at her chest – the best fake boobs the Czech Republic has to offer she told me, after arriving home from holiday with them one day. Well, all she told me was that she was going on holiday – she neglected to mention that it was a cosmetic surgery holiday.

‘All right, granddad, pick your jaw up off the floor,’ she says to him as she struts past him.

‘Ali,’ I say, a combination of shocked, confused and delighted – the exact combination of feelings she gives her dates.

‘Hola, Lila,’ she says as she squeezes me.

‘Ali, you’re in Italy, not Spain,’ I remind her. ‘Oh, my God, you’re in Italy – why are you in Italy?’

‘I came to see you,’ she says. ‘Duh!’

‘You pop to someone’s house to see them, not their holiday.’ I laugh. ‘Not that I’m not over the moon to see you.’

‘Well, when you said Daniel had shown up, I thought you might need some moral support. I cleared my diary, booked a flight and here I am.’

‘Is that new?’ I ask about her swimsuit.

‘The twins need support too,’ she says.

I don’t think I’ve seen her sunglasses before either, now that I come to think of it.

‘Did you really come all this way just because you were worried about me, with Daniel being around?’

‘Of course,’ she replies. ‘And I blew off my date with the department-store heir – I should be twisted up like a pretzel, having my forty-fifth orgasm, and instead I’m here, looking out for you.’

I give her a look – a look deep into her soul.

‘And, well, he was minging, and a holiday sounded nice. A holiday with my best friend!’

She hugs me again.

‘Come on, let me show you the villa,’ I say.

Ali dances on the spot excitedly. It’s a miracle her breasts stay in her swimsuit – well, I think it’s a miracle they stay in. The men in the lobby think it’s a crying shame.

I’m excited to have my best friend here with me. Ali knows me inside and out, and she knows exactly what I’ve been through with Daniel, so she’ll know what I’m thinking and feeling before I do. She’s the shoulder I’ve needed to cry on for days, although I suppose I’ve stopped crying now.

I can’t wait to show her the villa and the pool, and everything else the island has to offer. Now that she’s here, I wish I’d just invited her from the start, although I’m sure she would’ve been gutted, to miss out on embarrassing Daniel on his wedding day.