‘I said it’s not funny,’ I repeat, unable to stop myself from laughing with him. ‘And get off that floor – who knows what else might be down there.’

He takes his time standing up, and his face is glowing with amusement when he looks back up at me. ‘Za, this isn’t a hostel, it’s a hotel – and a decent one at that.’

‘Hmmm …’ I say, sounding unconvinced.

‘You’ll get through this,’ he says, with what appears to be sympathy, sincerity and kindness.

‘You think?’ I whimper.

‘You’re already doing it … sort of,’ he smiles. ‘You’ll breeze through this – and by this I mean the whole trip, not just this one night in a warm and safe hotel room. More than that, you’ll enjoy it. And I’ll be here to help if you need me.’

‘Really?’

‘That’s what friends do!’

‘In that case, oh great friend of mine … will you help by removing the pube?’

‘Are you joking?’

‘Does my face look like it is?’ I ask, my eyes wide and imploring. ‘Because if so I’m really not surprised Liam is finding it difficult to read.’

‘He is?’

‘I think it’s more me than him,’ I admit. ‘I’ve not been the easiest person to live with lately.’

‘He’s marrying you so you must be doing something right,’ he offers.

I screw up my face in reply. ‘Maybe not the conversation to have on jetlag.’

‘One for the mountains.’ Mike nods, his palm rubbing over his face before he snaps into action. ‘Come on then, let’s go get the offending item.’

‘My saviour! You won’t miss it,’ I say, pointing towards the bathroom door.

He rolls his eyes and strides through, like a superhero about to take on the world and save the day.

‘For future reference, Za,’ he calls out, making me peer in behind him. ‘Just one sheet of loo roll, two if it’s an exceptionally big pube, fold it over in your hand and then simply brush,’ he says, guiding me through the action as the hair falls straight into the loo. He drops the toilet roll in before flushing.

‘Has it gone?’ I ask.

‘It’s gone for a swim …’ he says, sizing up the loo as the water still swirls around. ‘Erm, yep. You’re free. Well done,’ he says, pulling me in for another hug and rubbing my back – like you might when a child’s fallen over and hurt themselves. ‘Feeling better?’

‘Much,’ I say, enjoying the hug. ‘Don’t get me wrong, this place is still not my idea of luxury, but the removal of said pube has improved matters considerably.’