‘I think I was calling for permission,’ I admitted. ‘Maybe I did know this was going to happen. Urgh, I don’t know! We kind of kissed. I thought he’d pulled away first, but to be honest maybe I did. We get on so well …’

‘Plan not to plan, babe. If it happens, enjoy it happening. If it doesn’t, you’ve had something pretty to look at for the duration of the trip.’

‘Right. Yes. We’ve still got a week to go, so …’

‘So don’t waste it on the phone to me! Go get some sleep. It must be late there. I’m here if you need me, but otherwise I’ve only got one last thing to say.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Make sure it’s as much fun for you as it is for him. A gentleman always makes a lady come first.’

‘That was very helpful, thank you, Kezza. Thrilled I called.’

She laughed. ‘Love you!’

I got up early, hoping to beat Patrick, but he was already at the breakfast table by the windows, his boxers on show through his open dressing gown, set against the backdrop of another beautiful day.

‘I owe you one thousand apologies,’ I said as I approached. ‘I flew off the handle last night.’

‘Correct,’ he said. I couldn’t read his face. I assumed he was going to let me speak and then tell me where to shove it, because he didn’t want to be around anyone who couldn’t regulate their own mood swings, but I tried to be as girlish and cute as possible. I wasn’t being manipulative – but I was definitely trying to appeal to his most forgiving side.

‘I’m sorry,’ I carried on. ‘I was defensive and I shouldn’t have stormed off. We’d had that whole almost-kiss thing – I hate to bring it up, because I’m embarrassed, but you were there; you know how it went down – and I just want you to know I so value you, and you being here. Friends don’t storm out of cars and go to bed without saying goodnight. You were only trying to be my cheerleader. So in short: I apologize.’

‘As it turns out—’ he smiled ‘—I’m quite honoured that you’d lose your rag with me. From what I’ve gathered, you don’t let a lot of people see that side of you …’

That much was true. I’d swallowed anger and hurt and squashed down ever needing anything, really, in case I was ‘too much’.

‘No,’ I said. ‘I don’t.’

‘So it’s cool.’ He shrugged. ‘Thank you for saying sorry for storming off, but it’s good you’ve told me how you feel. Thank you. Now come here for a hug.’

His naked chest pressed against the thin cotton of my pyjamas. I loved the smell of him: woody and earthy and warm.