To make up for your rudeness, was what I wanted to throw back at him, but I didn’t.

‘Does it matter?’

It sounded very much to me like he was embarrassed that I had mentioned it. It hadn’t bothered him before. Perhaps he didn’t think working in a hotel matched his new and loftier position of employment.

‘For all that poor girl knows,’ I said lightly, ‘I could have been manager of a whole chain of hotels.’

Jonathan looked at me, then pushed back his chair and stood up. I hoped he’d feel better with a few carbs whizzing around his system.

‘If you want your eggs cooked differently,’ another staff member said to me, as I dithered over the hotplates, ‘just ask. Chef will be happy to cook whatever you fancy; however, you like it.’

Full marks to the staff for making the guests feel like a priority, our every whim was quite literally catered for. I was impressed.

‘It’s not that,’ I said. I could see the eggs were poached to perfection. ‘I just can’t decide whether to have one or two.’

My plate was already modestly covered with crisp bacon, a very tasty-looking local sausage and grilled tomatoes.

‘I’d have two,’ the guy smiled, ‘then give it an hour or so and swim it off in the pool.’

‘That sounds like a very good idea,’ I laughed, adding a couple of the eggs to my plate.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ Jonathan hissed at my side.

The waiter had fortunately turned to talk to someone else so didn’t catch my companion’s aggressive tone.

‘Choosing my breakfast,’ I said, ‘I’m sorted now.’

Jonathan looked at my plate with a cold stare. He’d gone for muesli and a large glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. Just a few weeks ago I would have had the same. I blamed Dolly for my increase in appetite and love of a good cooked breakfast. This morning I thought I was likely to need it more than ever and was grateful she’d shown me the error of my ways when it came to knowing what to eat according to the schedule. Obviously, it wasn’t something I tucked into too often, but it had become a firm favourite on heavier going days.

‘Are you seriously going to eat all that?’ Jonathan snapped, ‘or were you just tempted over here by the pretty waiter who showed you some attention?’

I looked at him wide-eyed and realised that he wasn’t simply hangry, it was the Jonathan from the dim and distant past who had woken up in the bed next to me. But where on earth had he sprung from and, more importantly, why?

‘Of course, I’m going to eat it,’ I said, quickly walking away in the hope that he would follow. ‘You said yourself that you were hungry, well, so am I.’