I shuffled, rather than walked, to the bathroom, all the while wishing Dolly had added something slightly less physically demanding to our Christmas Wish List. But that said, at least focusing on the physical pain was distracting me from the mental turmoil which was beginning to build. So much for my relaxing holiday, I hadn’t felt this stirred up in a very long time.

‘You’re up at last,’ Dolly called up the stairs when she heard me whimpering. ‘Come and see what I’ve found.’

Listening to her pottering about and humming along to Festive FM, or whatever channel she’d tuned the radio to, it was obvious that she wasn’t suffering anything like I was. I wondered if Beamish was feeling the strain this morning. Probably not. His strapping thighs were used to a regular workout on the rugby pitch.

‘Are you all right?’ Dolly frowned as I inched my way stiffly and straight-legged down the stairs. ‘You look a little flushed.’

‘No, I’m not all right,’ I told her.

‘I hope you aren’t coming down with a cold. Your cheeks are quite pink.’

‘Never mind my cheeks,’ I grimaced, knowing the flush was more the result of my thoughts of Beamish’s thighs than any bug I might have picked up, ‘I’m more concerned about my legs.’

‘Why?’ she frowned, scrutinising my pins, ‘what’s wrong with them? They look all right to me.’

I gingerly lowered myself into a chair and let out a sigh.

‘They’re stuck rigid,’ I told her, ‘I really don’t think ice skating agrees with me.’

Dolly chuckled and poured me a cup of tea.

‘Perhaps if you’d relaxed into a bit more,’ she advised. ‘Had you not been so tense you and Beamish would have been whizzing around in no time.’

I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better or worse. Feeling his hands on my waist was the real reason I hadn’t been able to loosen up.

‘You two look good together,’ Dolly continued, making my face burn even brighter. ‘You’re well matched.’

‘Only because we’re practically the same height,’ I told her.

Jonathan and I were the same height too, but Dolly had never said we looked good together, but I knew that we did. The photographs taken at his work’s summer ball earlier in the year were proof enough of that. Jonathan’s physique was made for fine tailoring and his thighs, although not as wide as Beamish’s, were every bit as impressive. I needed to remember that, amongst other things.