Jaya had numerous social media followers, who she updated regularly about her life. Quinn noticed she posted a lot more on days when she’d taken time to add the golden glow to her face. Quinn didn’t have a social media account before going to Cambridge to do his Masters. It was Jaya who’d convinced him he needed to have one. She liked to tag him in photos of them together with comments like, ‘I want to let my beau know he means the world to me!’ Jaya was very worried he might miss these messages if she couldn’t tag him, so he had created an account to please her.

‘This holiday has been so magical, Quinny,’ Jaya said, looking out to sea where the sun was beginning to dip below the clouds. ‘Would it sound selfish if I said it’s been wonderful to have you all to myself for so long?’

‘I’ve enjoyed it too,’ said Quinn picking up the menu. ‘Hey, they have those curried clams you like, should we get a ton?’

‘Because sometimes in Cambridge, well, don’t take this the wrong way, but you can seem a little distracted,’ Jaya said, picking up her knife and checking her reflection in the blade.

‘Hmm,’ Quinn made a nondescript noise as he looked out to sea.

He wanted to see the sunrise tomorrow, and he was working out where the best place from which to view it would be. He’d get up early and say he was going for a run. He liked to be alone for the first sunrise of the year.

A waiter approached from the hotel. He was short and dressed in an impeccable white shirt, black trousers and a purple waistcoat imprinted with the hotel’s insignia. He placed a basket of naan bread wrapped in linen and a delicate pot of yoghurt dip onto the table, then he presented Quinn with a wine list. Jaya asked the man if he would take a photo of them together. The waiter nodded politely and took the phone from Jaya’s hand. He took one photo and made to hand it back. Quinn quickly shook his head, trying to warn the man, but he just grinned at Quinn and soon Jaya was lecturing him about composition and lighting positions. She wouldn’t let him leave until she had checked the photos and then directed him to try again at a higher, more flattering angle.

‘Too short,’ Jaya whispered to Quinn once she’d finally dismissed the poor man. ‘You never get a good photo when you ask a short person. Maybe the wine waiter will be taller?’

Quinn wondered how many hours of his life he’d have to spend posing for photographs if he and Jaya stayed together.