I shrugged. ‘I don’t think I did either until now. And the sun, the sea, the conversations, just the time away, having fun – I’ve never been more myself. I’ve spent twenty years trying to become something I’m not, and in three weeks here I’ve been able to see the actual truth about who I am and what I want, and that’s been so exciting.’

‘Wow,’ said Patrick. ‘Annie Wiig, coming home and ready to rule.’

‘Literally,’ I said. ‘Yeah. I’m so over being a problem to fix. I think I’m understanding that I’m not a problem, I’m just me. And me is pretty awesome.’

‘I co-sign that declaration.’ Patrick grinned. ‘And for what it’s worth – seeing you see in yourself what I see you in you is so, so hot.’

I tipped my head back and laughed. ‘Oh really?’ I said, and he reached up to my neck to pull me in for a kiss.

32

Our last night was a haze of five very fancy courses in a sky-high restaurant, an incredibly heated snog up against an alleyway wall where a group of young lads told us to get a room, and a somewhat misguided double vodka shot in a karaoke bar we found ourselves in. I then lost a round of rock, paper, scissors to Patrick and so had to get up and perform a rousing rendition of Barbra Streisand’s ‘Don’t Rain On My Parade’.

‘Incredible,’ marvelled Patrick as I returned to our table. ‘You can actually sing!’

‘Don’t sound so surprised!’ I squealed. ‘I don’t have balls to drop and ruin my pitch, do I?’

‘Evidently not.’ He laughed, and we made out and did another shot and when the karaoke took a break and Diana Ross’s ‘I’m Coming Out’ started to play on the jukebox I leapt up and started singing along before heading to the dance floor. And that’s where I stayed for song after song until Patrick finally gave in and joined me, and we danced together – drunk, sweaty, happy – singing the lyrics at each other until it was 3 a.m. and the bar was closing. We made the sensible decision to find a shop to buy two big bottles of water to rehydrate on the way home.

It would have ended if we’d gone back to our hotel, and even though we had to leave for the airport at 10 a.m. the next day we wordlessly seemed to agree to keep the night going. I suppose by refusing to end the night, we were keeping the whole trip going. It was strange to know that after more than twenty-four hours of travel we’d be back home, and whilst thoughts of seeing Freddie were exciting, not much else was. The most exciting thing was here with me, so what did I have to go back home for?