In the various versions of this fantasy, we were lovers who savoured the relative anonymity of our meeting, not dwelling on who we were in the real world. We sailed the Greek Isles – the kind of sailing that happens in commercials, with windswept hair, white linen clothes, and deck shoes – hopping between locations on a whim. We talked of politics and history, art and philosophy – ours was an intellectual connection as well as physical. And speaking of physical, we made love three times a day – sometimes hard and passionately on the deck of the boat, other times unhurried, taking time to explore each other’s bodies. And at the end of each day, we got drunk on Ouzo while we watched the sunset over the Aegean.

As I said, I may have spent a little time fantasising about the silver fox.

Seeing him again and up close, I was struck by how handsome he was – even more so than I’d remembered. And I mean really handsome, in the way that slightly older guys are when they dress well and look after themselves and were probably supermodels in their younger days. He looked like he’d stepped out of an ad for Ralph Lauren Polo.

James was talking, but I wasn’t listening. I tuned back in, trying not to get too distracted by his eyes, which were alight with amusement and especially gorgeous. It was a story about Duncan messing up the dates for James’s arrival in Barbados. When James arrived, he found Duncan sunbaking on the deck of his boat – naked – with an equally naked girl beside him. My eyes flicked to Duncan, who I thought was unflappable, and wouldn’t you know it? He was completely flapped. Gerry nudged him in the ribs good-naturedly while he turned a fantastic shade of red.

‘Why, Duncan, you’ve been holding out on us!’ declared Gary. I glanced over at Josh; even he was smiling.

James continued, ‘So I clear my throat to announce my arrival, and of course both of them stand up – on impulse, I suppose – and so there we are, the three of us standing there staring at each other. Eventually I say something like, “Duncan, aren’t you going to introduce us?” and then the poor girl suddenly comes to her senses. She squeals, grabs the nearest towel, throws it around herself and goes below deck. Meanwhile, Duncan is still standing there, stark naked and obviously trying to work out what the hell I’m doing there …’

‘I still think you changed the date on me.’

‘In any case, it was a simple mix-up – except, I think I scared the girl away. I didn’t see her again.’

Duncan, who was a good sport about being the butt of the joke, added, ‘No, neither did I – oh, and thanks for that, James.’