‘I look forward to meeting them,’ he says, placing the information packs he’s been sorting on to chairs which have been positioned to face his desk.

‘We’re from London. Used to live together before I met my husband and had kids,’ I say, really punching out the words.

‘Nice,’ Scott replies, although I’m not sure he’s still listening to me.

I pick up one of the leaflets.

‘Lares Trek! That’s the one we’re doing. Wanted to do something a little different. Although I’m sure Inca is as good as they say it is. Mike, my friend, he does this sort of thing all the time, said the Lares was the one for us,’ I say, aware that my mouth is still moving and that there’s a steady stream of words tumbling from it. ‘Where do we start from? Is it really high the first day? Should I get altitude tablets?’

‘So many questions,’ Scott laughs. ‘I’ll go through all of that in a second.’

‘Fair enough,’ I nod, managing to shut my mouth.

‘But you’re lucky.’

‘Lucky?’ I frown.

‘I also prefer the Lares route, and you’ve got me accompanying you this week.’

‘Oh. Nice,’ I say.

‘Calm down, Mrs.’ He chuckles before waving to four other men who’ve come in, all wearing the same company uniform. ‘We’ll be starting in about ten minutes or so, so hang, take a seat and enjoy your wine,’ he says before going to join his team.

My cheeks burn bright red as I sit down, feeling like a complete and utter tit. He seems like a nice enough guy but I really don’t want to be made to feel this way all week. It’s uncomfortable. I bury my face in the leaflet.

Slowly a few more people come wandering in. As they look equally curious and nervous, I hazard a guess that they’re part of the team trekking the Inca Trail. I smile at everyone I catch eye contact with, I even exchange pleasantries with two older women while they’re waiting to sign in. It feels like I’m on my first day at school as more and more people filter into the room and I’m there grinning like the Cheshire Cat. One older man looks straight at me and my smile for a good five seconds before turning away without reciprocating. Before I can feel embarrassed or put out by the rejection, Mike and Zaza finally appear.

‘You didn’t shower?’ Zaza asks, taking in my clothes, the same from our flight, when they finally arrive.

‘I … no,’ I shrug. It didn’t even occur to me that I should.

‘Well, I found a pube,’ she hisses, sitting in the chair next to me.

‘Er, gross!’ I whisper back.

‘And she claims it wasn’t her own,’ Mike adds with a smirk as he sits.