I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Marie. ‘Hi.’

‘Hi.’

‘So, I wondered when you’re going to Chicago.’

I choked on my retsina, spluttering ungracefully. The crappy Greek wine went up my nose and stung the inside of my head. ‘Chicago?’ I managed to choke out after coughing a few more times. My neck snapped to the left and I saw Josh deep in conversation with Duncan. Thank Zeus for that.

I turned to Marie and she nodded as though we were having the most normal conversation in the world. ‘Well, I mean you and Josh are obviously together …’ She looked at me, as if to encourage me to agree. I feared that if the wind changed at that very moment, the deep crease of confusion on my forehead would stay there forever.

‘Chicago?’ I asked again, incredulously. It had been hours since I’d thought about the real world, and when it came to Josh, I certainly hadn’t thought as far ahead as going to Chicago. I’d thought about London, about James, going back to Sydney. But not Chicago. Chicago was Josh in the real world, and I’d spent exactly zero minutes thinking about that – until then.

I shook my head. Another time when my thoughts were fuzzy and I actually shook my head to clear them up. I was becoming a cartoon character.

‘Uh, no. I mean, yes, for now, for the trip, we’re together. I guess. But no.’ Okay, Sarah. That was a little too emphatic. I could tell it was, because Marie suddenly looked like she’d sucked on a lemon. ‘I mean, we hardly know each other.’ She looked even more horrified at that. I had to back-pedal. And fast. All while the person I was talking about was sitting on the other side of me.

‘I have to go to the ladies’ room,’ I said, a lot louder than the rest of my conversation with Marie. As I stood up, I gave her a pointed look, which – thank goodness – she figured out. She stood up and retrieved her handbag from under her chair.

‘I’ll come with you.’ It was quite the performance from the two of us, considering that neither her husband, nor my lover – even looked up from their conversations as we left the table.

Marie led the way across the room, through the door and down the hallway to the bathroom. I followed, and as soon as the door closed behind me, I let out a sigh.

And in that grimy toilet of a Greek Island taverna, Marie gave me a look that combined amusement, understanding and more than a handful of pity. Not even knowing what I wanted to say, I started to speak. I would have tried anything to make that look go away, because it was making me feel awful. But she cut me off.