Last time on the boat. Last meal with the floating family. Last time I saw Josh. Ever.

Ever?

And just like that, the wave of sadness turned into a crescendo of inner turmoil. Elated to deflated with two words. ‘Land ho’ indeed. I sat back on the bench, bracing myself against the bulkhead, as Duncan started directing Gary to pull ropes and do other sailing things to get us safely to shore.

‘You okay?’ Josh leaned against the boat next to me and rested his arm across my shoulder. ‘You look, well, not good. Are you sick?’

I shook my head, not trusting my voice. I blinked back the stupid tears – crappy timing – and found my voice, squeaky though it was. ‘A little post-trip blues that came earlier than I expected.’

He squeezed my shoulder and I put my head on his. ‘Don’t get pulled into all of that now,’ he said. ‘We still have the rest of today, tonight, all of tomorrow on the ferry. There’s still lots to come before goodbye.’

I nodded. ‘Okay.’ I plastered a smile I didn’t feel onto my face. As the boat slowed and righted, and our world became horizontal again, Duncan called out orders to the rest of us and we scurried about doing as we were told.

For the last time.

As we neared the port, the sails came down and were tucked away, and we moved under power again. The port was much busier than any of the sleepy marinas we’d docked at over the duration of the trip, and I could tell Duncan was concentrating to ensure we stayed safe amongst the array of large ships and faster boats.

We finally found a place to dock our floating home, not far from an enormous cruise ship and amongst some much larger yachts than ours. It was going to be a long walk to the town centre.

As Duncan and Gary tied us off to the dock, I went through the motions of double-checking and then triple-checking I hadn’t left anything in any of the dozen little nooks of my cabin. I already knew I hadn’t left anything behind, but I didn’t want to leave.

‘Got everything?’ The unmistakable deep timbre of that sexy American voice.

‘Yes.’

I didn’t turn around, wanting one last look at the tiny cabin I’d called my home for the previous nine days.

‘Should we go then?’ he asked.

‘I guess.’

‘Hey,’ he said stepping closer and putting a reassuring hand on my shoulder. ‘We’ve still got lots to look forward to.’

Who was he trying to kid? The very next day we would all part ways and go back to our lives. ‘Yep.’ I put on my brave smile again and turned around.

I changed the subject. ‘So, I was going to tip Duncan. Do you think fifty euros is enough?’