‘Well, it is. I’ve been single for, what, a few months? Right now, I just want to be on my own.’

‘Great!’

‘I mean, can’t I go on this trip, and have it be about me? Seeing somewhere new and hanging out and sailing and shit?’ I was whipping myself into quite the little frenzy.

‘All right. Yes. I’m sorry. I hope you don’t meet anyone.’

‘Thank you.’ It came out angry.

‘And, especially not someone cute, who makes you laugh, and is an all-round great guy. Actually, I hope all the men you meet are old and mean and ugly. No! Better yet, I hope there are no men. I hope you sail around the Greek Islands with a bunch of lesbians! I hope you go to Lesbos and are surrounded by lesbians!’ She pinned me down with a ‘so there’ stare, and after a beat, we both fell about laughing. My laughter quickly turned into a yawn. ‘How are you doing over there?’ she asked.

‘Good!’ I replied with more enthusiasm than I felt. She looked dubious. ‘Okay, I’m shattered, but I need to stay up and get on European time. I’ll be fine. The tea’s kicking in.’

‘How about a top-up then?’

‘Yes! Definitely more tea.’ I drained the last of my mug and handed it to her. She took it into the kitchen and put the kettle on.

With her back to me, she asked, ‘So, as long as you’re staying up for a while, do you want to talk about it?’

‘It?’ She turned to face me, looking mildly uncomfortable, like she was holding in a fart or something. ‘What?’ I asked, knowing exactly what she meant.

‘Neil.’ My break-up with Neil was literally the last thing I wanted to talk about. I would have put a lively conversation about Trump’s presidency, or the Syrian crisis, or even Brexit ahead of talking about the pile of shit I’d called my boyfriend for almost a year.

‘Not really.’ I feigned what I hoped looked like indifference.

‘Oh. All right.’ I could see the disappointment on her face. I could also see her mind working. ‘It’s just … well, we never really talked about it. Properly, I mean.’

She was right. I hadn’t wanted to talk to anybody about what happened with Neil – not my girlfriends, not my Sydney bestie, Lindsey – not even Cat. It was too humiliating.

‘True, but …’ I hesitated. Please don’t make me relive it all now when I am so exhausted. I’d rather stick a fork in my eye. I thought that, but what I said was: ‘Okay, you’re right.’

She brought fresh cups of tea back to the couch and pushed the chocolate biscuits towards me. She knew me so well. ‘So, what happened?’ She folded her legs under her and looked at me expectantly.