Patrick draped his arm over my shoulder as we huddled in close to watch the strange beast head into deeper water. I could feel the warmth of him spreading across me, his fingers gently curling around the top of my arm. The weight of a person’s touch, of a man’s touch, was something I hadn’t experienced in weeks. I didn’t dare move once I’d realized Patrick was there. I didn’t want any sudden movements to scare him off, or worse, to hurt me. He was my human stingray, and I was his observer. It was heady, being so close to someone.

‘Isn’t it extraordinary?’ He sighed. ‘I’m so glad we got to see this.’

He dropped his arm as I looked at him to smile, and for a moment I thought I’d ruined it, that I’d spoiled the moment. But then the tips of his fingers brushed against the tips of mine and he purred, ‘Come on, let’s see what’s in that hamper the lodge sent us with.’

As he held on to my wrist and led the way back up to our spot, the oddest thought popped into my mind. I thought: Am I imagining this?

The thing was, I couldn’t quite articulate what ‘this’ was.

Around five o’clock in the afternoon is my favourite time on a beach. It’s when you’re warm to the touch and salty and everything moves slowly, like a Jack Johnson song about sepia-toned photographs. It’s just heaven. We were lying side by side on the hotel beach blanket, a discarded beer can at each of our feet, some kids playing frisbee within earshot, screeching with glee before being hushed by their father. I woke up from another peaceful doze to their sound right as Patrick did.

‘Hey,’ he said, sleepily.

‘Hey,’ I replied.

We were half a foot apart as we woke up, our eyes locking. I was aware of the rise and fall of my chest, his proximity, as the sun lowered in the sky.

‘Penny for your thoughts.’

I looked away to just over his shoulder, but it was nicer to be looking at him. We were both on our fronts, as if we’d woken up in bed together, not on a beach.

‘I’m so relaxed,’ I said, and I realized my voice had dropped. I wasn’t whispering, but he was so close to me that I didn’t need to make an effort to be heard.

‘Yeah,’ he hummed. There was a pause. ‘I like this feeling.’

‘The holiday feeling?’

‘After a beer, on the sand, the sun going down. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. It’s at this time of day, beside the ocean, that time suspends itself doesn’t it?’

‘Yeah,’ I agreed. I closed my eyes again and took a deep, tranquil breath.

‘You seem happy. It’s nice to see.’