I’m not entirely sure if I was ready for such a huge amount of pressure but the reality is that it’s transferred me somehow from there to here. Nothing within me has changed, I still feel as broken inside, but outwardly I’m back at work so people have stopped checking in, seemingly assuming I’m ‘moving on’. I’ve even been for that pint with AJ and Reece, which was as normal as normal can be when someone’s wife has died. Other than the obligatory and non-committal ‘You been all right?’ at the start I wasn’t asked again, and Pia wasn’t mentioned for the full two hours we were together. It was an act that was purely for their benefit because not talking about the woman whose absence makes me feel fractured and incomplete seems more awkward than doing so. Hopefully they’ll be able to talk about her in time, realizing that every time she’s mentioned a little piece of my insides vibrates back to life.

‘You good?’ Vicky asks, having only just stopped fiddling with her bag and sat down with a sigh.

I’m about to answer when the air stewardess comes over offering complimentary bubbles. Three hands go flying in her direction, snatching up the plastic cups in haste.

‘Anyone else nervous?’ asks Vicky.

‘Don’t know what you’re talking about,’ I laugh, supremely aware of a fluttering in my stomach. I might not have had much time to focus on this excursion of ours but familiar feelings of anticipation and excitement have been building within me since sending over the final edits last night. I’m surprised I managed to sleep.

‘Shall we toast?’ asks Zaza, holding out her cup to mine. Vic does the same.

‘To …?’ I ask.

‘God, this could be a heavy and emotional one,’ says Zaza, her hand placed over her chest as she takes a slight pause. ‘To Pia for being persuasive, even in death. May she guide us on this trip and make sure we don’t get flipping lost or stranded up a mountain,’ Zaza says seriously.

‘Couldn’t agree more,’ Vicky nods. ‘To our Pia getting us home safely.’

‘You do realize she had an awful sense of direction?’ I laugh, while trying my best to make some sort of clink with their plastic cups.

We each take a mouthful and then sigh collectively.

‘Lovely,’ I smile, instantly feeling my body relax.

‘How are you feeling, Vicky?’ asks Zaza, taking another graceful sip of her drink while Vicky necks the rest of hers.

‘I’ve been an emotional wreck if I’m honest,’ she states, as though we’d be surprised by her admission. ‘I’ve never been away from the kids for this long. Or this far away … I was crying putting my spare laces in the bag the other day. It’s not taken much to set me off.’