‘Okay.’ I took a deep breath and blew it out. ‘So, I came on this trip – not expecting, not wanting to meet anyone. And right off the bat, I meet Josh. And he’s far too young for me, and he lives so far away, but he is smart, and he makes me laugh, and I get the sense he really sees me, you know?’ It was a rhetorical question, and I continued without interruption. ‘I mean, today he showed me this photo he took of me, and I didn’t know he was taking it at the time – which I promise isn’t as creepy as it sounds – and it’s a really beautiful shot. It captured something about me I haven’t seen in myself for a long time. And it got me thinking that maybe this is a guy who could know the real me – maybe even love the real me.

‘But, I know he isn’t that guy, because this whole time, he keeps telling me how he doesn’t want a girlfriend, and I don’t mean now. I mean ever. He is planning a life of bachelorhood, and when he and I were just friends, that was fine – he could tell me that stuff, but now there’s something else there. He says one thing and does another. I can tell he likes me – but I know there’s no future. And even if there is, he lives on the other side of the world, so how can there be a future?’ Again, a rhetorical question.

‘And then, as if that wasn’t enough confusion, there’s the silver fox, who I never in a million years thought I would see again after our very brief encounter on Santorini.’ The eyes looked on, unwavering. ‘James is wicked smart, and accomplished, charming, and he really wants to get to know me, and it doesn’t matter if he lives on the other side of the world, because he’s ridiculously rich, and he can come to Sydney whenever he wants – or fly me to London – or wherever he wants to, for that matter.

‘And did I mention I had no intention of meeting anyone on this trip?’

I sat back in my seat and took a proper swig from my cocktail. I dared a glance at my new friends to gauge their reactions. They were all silent as if they were trying to come up with the right thing to say.

Hannah spoke up. ‘Well, that sucks.’

And she was bang on. Which made me laugh. Loud, long and hard, and then the others joined in. When the laughter died down, I felt calm, and for some reason, reassured that everything would work out well.

‘You know,’ I began, ‘part of me – an ever-increasing part of me – wants to tell them both to bugger off.’ That elicited some more laughter until Gerry said something that pinpointed why I hadn’t.