“There are no two ways about it. The woman was beautiful and kind, albeit a bit, hm, how to put it, not very handy.” Camille’s voice remains serious. “Most of all, she was incredibly sexy. The kind of sexy that knocks you right over. Not to be ignored. Unmistakable. Obviously, the other woman, who was French and visiting Australia and renting the Airbnb, had to do something. Because after she briefly met the Australian woman, she couldn’t stop thinking about her. She was meant to be enjoying her last few days of relaxation and introspection and tourism, but instead, her mind was filled to the brim with thoughts of the Airbnb owner. It was stronger than herself. So she asked the other woman to go out and, miraculously, she said yes.”

A pause. But I have no intention of saying anything. I should be in Darlinghurst in less than ten minutes, but now I don’t want this drive to end. Although, no matter how much I’m enjoying this story, what lies at the end of this commute, will be far more divine. The Australian and French women will be joined at the hip—and quite a few other body parts—for the rest of the evening, throughout the night and most of the morning.

“They had a wonderful date under a bunch of fairy lights in this magical courtyard. It felt like it was all meant to be. Then…” She stops again. Maybe she’s looking for words. Or just creating suspense. I wish I could see her while she’s telling me this story. “Then, they made love. For the French woman, who was very new to all of this, it was like a fairy tale. Like magic. Kind of how she felt when she walked into the patio of that restaurant, into the magical atmosphere, not so much created by the decor or the lights, but by the woman she was there with. Because sometimes, maybe only once in your life, you meet someone, and it makes you feel something so… big. Si incontournable. That it made her feel as though everything was going to be all right in her life. If a thing like that can happen, just like that, in a flash, then other wonderful things will follow. There’s just no other way.”

My throat feels tight. Are those tears pricking behind my eyes?