By the time I make it up to the room, taking with me the homemade cookies that I also said yes to, Miles is in exactly the same position as he was before.

‘Hey, are you OK? Do you want me to cancel the paddle boarding?’

He opens one eye and shuts it tightly before he lets out a groan.

‘I appear to have gone to some kind of floral hell. Why would the landlady decorate the bedrooms like this?’

‘I’m guessing that her usual clientele don’t play pub golf.’

‘Hmm, but at least we were victorious.’ He tries to scrunch his fist but even that’s too much effort.

I don’t point out that he only really won because everyone else had stopped playing. Soph had curled up asleep, her head resting on Brett’s lap. Douglas had started drinking with another group at the other end of the pub and I don’t want to think about why Verity and Joel made a swift, sudden exit.

‘So, paddle boarding? I can text and cancel.’

He rubs at his temples.

‘No, don’t. I’ll be quick in the shower.’

‘Are you sure because—’

‘I’ll be fine. Give me five minutes.’

We make it down to the quay where we find Joel sitting on a wall, holding an extra-large reusable coffee cup. He’s dressed in shorts and a T-shirt with flip-flops on his feet and sunglasses on top of his head. My stomach gives an involuntary flip. How is he even better looking than he was when we were younger?

‘Woah, Miles, are you OK?’ he says.

‘I thought the fresh air might do me some good, but I’m not so sure.’ He grips hold of the wall to balance himself.

‘Verity’s not too well either.’ He points at her power walking down the river path with a bottle of water in her hand. ‘She’s trying to sweat it out.’

It’s then that I spot Douglas on the grass in front of us, lying on his back, with a jumper covering his eyes.

‘So many casualties. How are you feeling?’ I ask.

‘I’m all right. You?’

‘I’m worried that I’m going to feel worse later.’

It’s a beautiful spot we’ve picked to meet at alongside the river. There’s not a cloud in the sky and the light’s reflecting off the water, causing it to sparkle.

‘Morning,’ calls Soph, walking up to us with Alfie in the pram. She sounds much more chipper than the rest of us. She surveys the carnage around us. ‘It’s like the apocalypse.’

‘Where’s Brett?’ asks Joel.

‘He’s gone to play a christening, can you imagine?’ She pulls a face. ‘He was looking rather green this morning. So it means I can’t paddle board as I’m on Alfie duty.’