Finally, one morning while I was manning reception, he came to see me, and I thought it was our chance. But before I could even bring up what happened, a departing guest wanted me to go and check their caravan against the inventory so that they could receive their deposit back. We had to put our conversation temporarily on pause whilst I headed off with the guest. I thought Joel would have waited for me, but by the time I came back, he’d left.

Usually on check-out days the shifts passed in a bit of a blur, but that shift dragged. By the time I walked back to the accommodation later that afternoon my back ached and my feet were killing me.

‘What is with you?’ Soph nudged at my elbow.

‘Nothing, why?’ I rubbed at the base of my spine, trying to massage away the tension.

‘It’s just you keep looking round; it’s starting to freak me out. Did you sleep with a guest or something?’

‘No,’ I said, ‘my name’s not Douglas.’

She laughed and then started talking about the party we were heading to later that night; I was relieved of the subject change. If Joel hadn’t been her cousin, I would have leapt at the chance of picking her brain. I was desperate to know whether she thought Joel liked me. But then I thought of the first warning she gave me about Joel, that he’s the love-and-leave-them type, and it burned in my chest.

Joel was leaning over the balcony of the staff quarters when we got back to our flat.

‘Hey,’ said Soph. ‘Waiting for me?’

‘For Edie, actually.’

‘I’m hurt you don’t want to see your favourite cousin,’ she said. ‘I’m going to hit the shower. We’ll leave about eight? You coming?’

Joel shook his head.

‘I’m on night security.’

Soph headed inside our flat and I leant against the railing next to him, until we were side by side.

‘Who are you on night security with?’

‘Elizabeth.’

I pulled a face. My flatmate hadn’t become any more friendly than the day I first met her.

‘Fun.’

‘Yeah, I’m really looking forward to it.’

‘Sorry, have you been waiting long? We stayed a bit at reception after our shift ended. Soph wanted to send an email to that guitar player from the band that she met last week. You know that one that she thought looked like Jon Bon Jovi.’

‘Soph thinks any man with a guitar looks like him.’

His hands seemed to be shaking a little. He shoved them in his pockets when he caught me looking at them and he turned to rest his back against the railing so he was facing me.

‘It’s a shame you can’t come tonight.’

‘Is it?’ he asked.

‘Yeah, I mean it’s not the same without you; the gang’s not complete.’