‘It’s Hammer time,’ Anna sang as she stretched out the sides of her shorts in a homage to MC Hammer rather than a mickey-take, I’d like to think. ‘You can’t touch this.’

I laughed while I watched her terrible dance. ‘I think you’ll find, Anna Adlington, that particular song was perhaps the Nineties.’

‘Shut up and touch this.’ Anna wrapped her arms around me and pushed her body against mine. Who was I to argue?

‘Last night then. Is it stupid to ask what your plans are?’ Josh splashed aftershave onto his cheeks. He hadn’t been able to charm Nell but they were hanging out most of the time. Each other’s wingmen apparently. I think the fact she hadn’t fallen for him was what was keeping him interested. I zipped up the one pair of jeans I’d brought. They were splattered crimson because I’d clumsily knocked a glass of sangria over them and couldn’t rinse the stain out under the tap.

‘Anna and I are having dinner.’ We were going back to the seafront restaurant we now thought of as ours.

‘You like her, don’t you?’ Josh asked.

‘Can’t stand her. That’s why I spend all my time with her.’ I sniffed my red T-shirt underneath the arms before tossing it on the floor and pulling the last clean one from my case. I still hadn’t unpacked. The wardrobe stood empty, the floor strewn with clothes. We really were pigs.

‘I mean you like her.’

I waited for Josh to follow up with a sarcastic comment, but he didn’t.

I didn’t know what to say. He’d only take the piss if I told him that if I could, I’d give her everything, I’d unhook the moon. Unscrew the stars that didn’t shine as brightly as her. I’d give her the entire universe. If I could.

‘Yeah. She’s all right, I suppose,’ I said, lacing up my trainers.

‘Don’t fall in love, you big twat.’ He shoved me hard on the shoulder.

I didn’t tell him that I already had.

Anna was breathtaking in a long turquoise dress that floated around her ankles; ethereal and angelic and too good for me, a scruffy oik who hadn’t even packed a pair of trousers or shoes. No wonder Roxanne had berated me for my lack of fashion sense.

‘For old times’ sake.’ I tucked a pink bougainvillea into her hair. ‘Ready, Señorita.’ I crooked my arm and she tucked hers through mine.

We split the bill after too much paella and Limoncello and plum tart – our final dinner mirroring our first. Anna always insisted on paying her own way. While she used the bathroom in the restaurant, I bought a bottle of house red and the waiter threw in two plastic cups.