‘Yes,’ I said, quickly. ‘Yes, of course. It’s Fernanda again. She’s so lovely.’

We spent a night out in the Blue Mountains, on a luxury coach tour that only took a couple of hours’ drive. I’d never heard of the Blue Mountains, and it was a million hectares of tall forest, sandstone cliffs, canyons and waterfalls, all with a blue horizon of eucalyptus trees that seemed to just go on and on. We trekked deep into the middle of it to admire the native bushland, gaping at the rock formations and exploring the underground caves. We got to listen to Dreaming stories told by Aboriginal guides and admire the work of resident artists too, picking up a few packable pieces to take home. We loved it so much that we arranged to go back a second time, trekking part of the Six Foot Track to look out over Wentworth Falls, Kings Tableland and Mount Solitary, before being driven to a nearby resort for some much-needed R and R after absorbing such majestic nature and clocking thirty thousand steps a day.

And the kissing. Little pecks. Deep, passionate kisses. Two make-out sessions before bed, each one more intense than the last.

One afternoon by the pool we kissed again, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep locking lips without jumping his bones. I tried to revel in the novelty of going slowly, of getting to know somebody’s life and personality before I discovered their body, but I craved him. We were charged magnets.

Urm, but … I thought this was a lust situation, not a love one, Adzo texted. She’d finally replied to me and I’d been able to fill her in on what had happened the night of the sunset canoe trip. She’d basically said what Kezza had – that apparently everyone except Patrick and I knew we were going to hook up even before we actually had, or even before either of us had thought about it. Part of that really bugged me because there was a low-level accusation that men and women couldn’t just be friends, but then, this woman and that man hadn’t just been friends, had they?

29

‘It isn’t that I’m not grateful for all we’ve done as we’ve been here,’ I said. ‘But wow. A whole afternoon at a spa resort? That definitely hits the spot for me.’

‘I’m with you on that,’ Patrick replied. ‘My calves – I’m not used to so much walking. They should put “walk fifty thousand steps” on the Barry’s Bootcamp workouts. Not even D’Shawn’s class makes my legs feel this heavy.’

He pulled out the leaflet of where we were headed from his backpack and opened it up.