‘I just want to win this one round,’ I tell him. ‘And then we’ll bow out, because we’re ill or shy or something. So long as we kick their butts once.’

‘Kick their butts once and then don’t give them a chance to equalise?’ Freddie asks.

‘Exactly,’ I reply. ‘All is fair in love and war.’

Freddie just laughs.

The beach bar is a wide, circular open space. There is a large stage at one side, with an open space for a dance floor in front of it. Tables and chairs are set up everywhere else, all facing the action.

Fairy lights hang around the edge of the space, creating the illusion of a sort of wall around us, and at the centre of each table is a clear glass wine bottle, with even more lights packed inside. I think my favourite thing about Valentine Island might be the recurring theme of twinkling lights and leafy green plants. I definitely feel as if I’m in some sort of dreamy utopia, a million miles from my usual life in the big, polluted city.

It still feels so warm, but without the sun beating down on us, it’s a more pleasant heat. I’m wearing a strapless dress, but now, after a day sunbathing, my shoulders have white strap marks from my bikini, which just scream ‘Brit abroad’. I think perhaps Freddie has been working on his tan for longer than I have, or perhaps because he’s almost always shirtless he’s just colouring more evenly than I am. Tonight he’s wearing a muscle-hugging, V-neck T-shirt and a rather tight pair of chinos. I don’t know if his clothes are supposed to be tight, or if he’s just up against it, muscle-wise. I tick myself off every time I catch myself staring at him, admiring him.

Ali decided not to come along and watch, because it ‘sounded lame’ and ‘might make her sick’ – she also told us that, if I was going to make out as if she was ‘banging a barman’ then she ‘may as well be banging a barman’ so she’s gone off to find the one from the restaurant last night.

It’s absolutely packed here, so I can’t see Daniel and Eva – perhaps they’ve chickened out.

Matteo and Zoey take to the stage. They’re both wearing radio mics that poke out in front of their faces, which makes me wonder what the hell we’re going to be doing that they need both hands for. Zoey takes the lead, saying everything in English. Matteo is only a few moments behind her, repeating everything she says in Italian.

‘It’s time for the first round of Mr & Mrs Valentine Island,’ she announces to an ocean of applause. ‘So, let’s get our couples up here and find out just how much they know about each other.’

‘Crap,’ I say quietly. ‘We’re not exactly going to smash this round, are we?’

‘Let’s give it a shot,’ Freddie says. ‘If we don’t go first, and it sounds difficult, we can bail.’