‘We’re thinking of going this September, so there’s not a lot of time to prepare. You’d need to use two weeks of your annual holiday entitlement as we’ll need some time there before we do the trail to acclimatise to the altitude, plus there are some great sights to see. You’d also need to raise two thousand, five hundred pounds for the charity to pay for your place.’

I gasp that in. No one seems to notice. Or to feel that two and a half thousand pounds is one hell of a lot of money. Greg and I don’t have cash lying around like that.

Sarah continues, ‘The company will give everyone who decides to do the trek a start of five hundred pounds.’

Cheering for that.

‘And you’d need to get fit, fit, fit!’ She punches the air.

More cheering and clapping. Most of these guys spend half of their week down at the gym, so I can’t see a problem there. It’s flabby old me that I’m worried about.

‘So, team?’ Rabble-rousing voice. ‘Do you think we can do it?’

‘Yeah!’ Everyone punches the air. So do I. A minute too late.

‘Yeah,’ I echo quietly.

‘This is the itinerary,’ Sarah says. ‘We’d be travelling . . .’

Then I zone out as I look down at the brochure in my hand. There are a group of trekkers, grinning broadly on the front. They’re wearing a rag-tag assortment of traditional Inca costumes, colourful ponchos, woven in bright reds, greens and yellows topped with gaudy knitted hats.

Behind them is the most spectacular scenery I’ve ever laid eyes on. My fingers trace the contours of the towering, lush mountains, stark endless deserts, miles of unbroken blue sky. Machu Picchu. The Sacred Valley or Lost City of the Incas. The Nazca Lines. The words blur in front of me. The sky is the colour of sapphires, the trees the colour of emeralds, and the ruins of the ancient Aztec city rise out of the clouds like a diamond. It looks impossibly exotic and alien. I’m mesmerised by its remote beauty. I’ve never been to a place like that before.

‘So,’ Sarah’s words bring me back from my daydream. ‘How many of you are up for it?’

Nearly everyone puts their hands up. They all turn round to look at me. In fact, everyone has put their hand up except me.

‘Annie?’

My mouth has gone dry. My heart is pounding in my chest. Sarah is waiting for answer.

‘No,’ I say. My cheeks are burning with humiliation. ‘I can’t do it.’

‘That’s such a shame,’ she says with a sympathetic smile that makes me want to curl up and die. Then she moves on to explaining what everyone needs to do next.