Tonight is our first night here. I haven’t met Adam’s girlfriend Nell before, but she seems to be like Will and Adam: someone who is at ease with skiing holidays and knowing the correct words for everything. Unlike me, she doesn’t have to pretend to be something she’s not. Although our hotel is far from luxurious, I still feel out of my depth; a fraud. The three of them are talking about the last time they skied in this resort and I am tuning out because I have nothing to contribute. I stroke the back of Will’s head, tracing my finger gently along the edge of his ear in the way I know he likes, trying to bring his attention back to me.

It works.

‘Louisa has never skied before,’ Will says. ‘I’m looking forward to teaching her.’

‘Gosh, your first time?’ Nell says patronizingly. ‘How marvellous! I barely remember my first time on skis – I was only three or so. According to family legend, I cried my eyes out.’

‘Let’s hope it’s not that way for Louisa,’ Adam says, giving me a wink.

Will squeezes my hand. ‘It won’t be. I’m sure she’ll be a natural. And I’ll be there to look after her anyway.’

All of my ski kit is borrowed. I have one friend from home who has been skiing – something to do with being spotted as having potential when she was a child on a dry ski slope and given an EU grant – and she’s lent me some things to wear. Even when I was packing I found the amount of stuff bewildering. Why do you need both inner and outer gloves? Why so many layers? Do I really need to wear those things that look like long johns? Why do these padded trousers (salopettes?) have to be quite so padded – aren’t I going to look enormous? What is this circular scarf thing? Should I wear a hat or an ear band – isn’t that a bit seventies? Goggles and sunglasses – why do I need both? How will I know which to wear and when? I tried it all on at home and looked like I was the size of a house. Then I stripped it all off again as quickly as I could because I was absolutely sweltering. And that’s before you even get to the boots, skis, and poles which had to be hired once we got here at seemingly huge expense (I can’t let Will pay for everything, so I’ve got another new credit card especially). I find the ski hire shop utterly bewildering but let myself get swept along as Adam and Will argue about what length of ski I should have and how tight my bindings should be, whatever that means.