Where is she? I wondered. I concluded almost immediately that no matter where she was, good on her! I dragged my bag from the far end of the bunk and dug through it for something to put on. I chose a clean tank top and a nearly clean pair of shorts. Stepping out of the skirt, I scrutinised its level of filthiness.

I had worn it twice already, but there was no way to wash clothes on the trip and I still needed at least another wear out of it. I rated it as wearable and put it back into my bag. Only clothes that reeked or had been spilt on went into the plastic washing bag. And I’d only open that when I got back to London. The skirt was fine. And I knew I had enough clean knickers to get through the whole trip – twice over. I grabbed a fresh pair before tucking my bag out of the way.

Then I stripped off, stepped into the tiny bathroom and turned on the water. The best part about Hannah being out was that I was guaranteed a hot shower, and even though the water flow was little more than a trickle, it felt great.

While I showered, I thought about Josh. Okay – that came out wrong. I thought about our situation. I had liked our little slumber party, but the moment with the good morning kiss was a little too cosy for comfort. Quite possibly we would become lovers, but even if we did, we needed to steer clear of the coupley stuff. I mean, what could happen, really? I’d probably never see him again after the trip. He was cute, though. And even if I did try to keep my distance, for the foreseeable future he was sleeping approximately a metre plus a few millimetres of plywood away. Crap.

The day before, the group had decided we’d stay another day and night on Naxos and then leave the following morning. I was fine with that, but they all wanted to go out on the scooters again. Another day riding around dusty roads, waiting to get rained on? I was less than fine with that. And it wasn’t just the rain. Scooter riding was a super coupley thing to do.

The five of them – Hannah still hadn’t made an appearance – stood on the dock, looking at me expectantly, while I stared back at them from the boat. Marie had her hands on her hips. ‘So, you’re not coming?’

Why did I feel guilty? Wasn’t this my holiday too? Couldn’t I do whatever I wanted with my day?