Juho was lying in a hammock under a coconut palm outside Natalia’s little hut, slightly worried that she hadn’t attended the morning yoga practice. In the months that they had shared on Bottle Beach, Juho and Natalia had become the firmest of friends, and Natalia had blossomed, knowing that Juho was celibate, that he didn’t want anything from her except friendship. They had swum together for hours every day, smoked joints, sitting on rocks, played cards late into the night, and talked. God, how they’d talked.

Juho had told Natalia all about the events that had led to his near-breakdown, back in Helsinki, an unoriginal combination of working hard and playing hard (cocaine, vodka and hookers). Natalia, in return, had opened up, telling Juho things she had never told anybody, not even Ben: about the bleakness of her childhood, the grinding poverty; the alcoholic father who had left Natalia and her mother to fend for themselves when she was three years old; her beloved mamushka’s death from radiation poisoning after the Chernobyl disaster when Natalia was just 16; the absolute grief and despair that had led her into prostitution – pretty much the only career option open to a beautiful young girl in the lawlessness that engulfed the area at the time; her escape to Moscow, and the early nineties boom years, in which she had quickly thrived; her move to London, and brilliant investments during the property boom of the noughties; and finally, Georgiou’s blackmail that had led her here, to Bottle Beach. The only thing she hadn’t told him about was Ben.

Juho had experienced a lot of life, and considered himself pretty unshockable. He was, however, enormously impressed by the bravery, determination and resilience that had led Natalia to where she was now, and took every new revelation with his customary Zen-like calm.

So the friendship was solid. But there was a problem. Juho, after all his initial protestations of celibacy, had found himself falling deeply in love with Natalia. She was so sweet and unaffected now, talking about her past with disarming honesty and wry humour, giggling with absolute abandon as they jumped off rocks into the sea or down waterfalls into rippling pools in the island’s jungly interior. And no man could be immune to that sensational face and body.

Juho wanted to be a decent man, and thought that he had finally banished his demons, just by living on this beautiful island, practising yoga under the trees, his only intoxicants a gentle smoke every night. He was ready to break his vow of celibacy now. And he hoped Natalia would be the woman with whom to break it.

He looked out to sea, relishing, as he always did, the incredibly calming view, and saw Natalia emerging from the water, looking like a goddess in her cheap string bikini, her long blonde hair dripping down her back. He felt the stirrings of lust that had become all too common this last couple of weeks. He had to tell her.