I peel myself out of my travel clothes and head into the bathroom. It might make me slightly late, but my skin is so sticky from the journey that I need to shower before leaving this room. I turn the valve to heat up the shower and go to get my towel.

That’s when I see it sitting on the toilet. A curl of black mocking me from the seat, and for a moment I am rooted to the spot in horror.

The tears that have been threatening to fall now leap from my eyes. I force myself to take a breath, make myself get under the water so I can wash my sweaty body. The tears coming thick and fast as I try to ignore ‘it’.

My shower is a quick and functional in and out. I step into my knickers straight away, hastily rub in some body lotion and pull my dress over my head. The tears are still streaming down my face as I step out of the bathroom, just as someone knocks at my door.

I wipe my face to remove the tears and try to look happier as I swing the door open.

Mike’s face falls at the sight of me.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asks, coming straight into the room in a panic.

‘It’s nothing,’ I sniff, wiping my face with a towel and putting on some face cream. ‘I’m being silly. I’m tired, that’s all. You know what I’m like when I don’t get enough sleep. I shouldn’t have watched films the whole flight. My bad …’

‘You can tell me,’ he encourages gently, placing a hand on my arm.

I exhale, covering my face with my hands.

‘I just found a hair on the toilet seat,’ I squeak. ‘Pubic.’

Laughter escapes from Mike as he pulls me into his arms. ‘Gosh, you doughnut. I thought something had happened.’

‘Were you not listening?’ I frown, peering up at him. ‘It’s like a bad episode of Four in a Bed.’

He smiles back. ‘You’ve never been travelling, have you?’

‘Nope,’ I say, curling back into his chest.

‘I can’t tell you the amount of hostels I’ve stayed in where I wish it were only a pubic hair I’d found on the toilet seat, in the shower, or even on my supposedly fresh bedsheets.’

‘What …!’ I respond in horror, leaping out of his arms and around to the bed. ‘I haven’t even checked the sheets yet!’

Mike’s laugh blasts across the room, as his body bends over double, his elbows resting on his knees.

‘It’s not funny,’ I say, picking up a pillow and chucking it in his direction. He pretends it’s hit him far harder than it has and rolls to the ground.