It was only when I remembered the very end of the night, and what he’d said right before he drifted off to sleep, that my stomach tightened into a dark little knot. I remained still, torn between enjoying the warmth of him and the jolting memory that made me want to climb out of bed and get on the next ferry back to Athens – alone.

After dinner, we’d gone dancing. Well, Josh, Hannah, Marie and Gary, and I went dancing. Duncan and Gerry decided to call it a night, so I’d had to say my first teary goodbye on the steps of the restaurant. It sucked, because although I adored them both, I knew I would probably never see them again.

I should have been used to it – it’s one of the pains of being a traveller. Thank goodness for Facebook – yes, you read that right. For all its evils, Facebook is my pipeline to the people I love who are scattered across the globe.

The dancing was actually my idea. In my touring days there had been a club called the Scandi – short for the Scandinavian – and I wanted to see A) if I could remember where it was and B) if it was still there.

I did and it was.

However, it was a sickly shadow of its former self. Back in the day, it was so packed that the people and the music spilt onto the walkway out front where the rowdy party continued. It was the sort of club where a trip to the bar took nearly an hour, and my touring mates and I would buy drinks in rounds, taking turns to get into line for the next one.

Our arrival at the Scandi the night before had nearly doubled the number of people inside. I was disappointed and I could sense I wasn’t the only one.

We were standing in the doorway peering in when I heard, ‘Come with me, handsome,’ and I watched as Marie pulled her husband onto the dance floor. They were playing 90s dance music – just like they did in the noughties. Apparently, it was still the best music to get people dancing. Well, it looked like Gary and Marie wanted to stay, but what about Hannah and Josh?

‘Drinks?’ I asked over-enthusiastically. The other advantage of the club being dead was that a trip to the bar for five drinks would take about as many minutes. Hannah looked like she would rather be anywhere else, but Josh was on board and Hannah followed behind us as we made a beeline for the bar.