You may not believe this, but we didn’t do anything. I mean, he did kiss me goodnight – rather chastely, I’d like to add – but then we fell asleep. Besides, even if things had got a little hot and heavy, there was no way I was going to have sex on a boat with paper-thin walls and five other people on it! It would have been too embarrassing. I was already wondering how I would explain to Hannah why I hadn’t slept in our cabin.

My thoughts turned to the sleeping part of the night. Usually, sleeping next to someone new meant I barely slept at all. Instead, I’d sort of doze, waking up at the slightest noise or movement, hyper conscious of the other person in the bed. It wasn’t like that with Josh. It felt normal.

‘I liked sleeping next to you,’ I said looking at the sky through the ceiling hatch. ‘It was nice.’

‘Nice?’

‘Yeah. Nice.’

‘Okay.’

‘What’s wrong with nice?’

‘Nothing. Nice is good.’

I stared hard at the patch of sky. How had we gone from contented to annoyed in three-point-two seconds? And, now what? How was I supposed to get myself out of there graciously? ‘Thank you for a lovely night of chastely sleeping side by side. See you at breakfast.’ Definitely not that – that was awful.

While I had an internal discussion about the most socially acceptable way to extricate myself from Josh’s cabin, he seemed to be on a totally different tack. He reached for my water bottle, took a sip, and said, ‘Now I can kiss you good morning.’ He followed up with a lovely, gentle kiss. It was a very boyfriend-girlfriend kind of a moment, and even though it felt nice – there was that word again – I couldn’t help wondering what else it meant. I didn’t want a boyfriend, and he had been particularly clear about not wanting a girlfriend. Now I really needed to get out of there.

I reached for my skirt – I had slept in my T-shirt, knickers and bra – while trying to retain some semblance of modesty. It was a little tricky, because the skirt was at the foot of the bed.

Contorting myself to reclaim it, I then shimmied into it under the covers. All the while, I avoided eye contact with Josh. I had no idea what was going on in his head, but whatever it was, I didn’t want to know. I was zipping up when he climbed out of bed and slipped on a pair of shorts.

‘Okay then …’ he said, obtusely. Was he wishing me gone, or wishing I would chill the fuck out? If it was the latter, he was right – I did need to chill the fuck out. I climbed out of bed fully dressed, and then we were standing face to face in the tiny space – actually it was more like face to chest – his bare chest, his bare sexy chest. Damn him and his chest. Did I mention I really needed to get out of there?