Fraser got freaked out by the unfamiliarity of the villa, and in particular how dark it was at night compared to home, where the street lights were a permanent glow behind his curtains. He kept reappearing during the late evening, then kept them up half the first couple of nights as he grew overtired, irrational and consequently unable to sleep. Having barely slept since their arrival, she and Drew were both zonked out by about nine the third night. This left them well rested and refreshed in time for Fraser to tag his brother, so that the evenings and overnights were then dominated by dealing with Duncan’s upset stomach. By the time that had finally abated, and another embarrassingly early night had allowed Catherine to catch up on her sleep, they were already eight nights into their holiday, at which point Duncan briefly passed the baton, and the tummy bug, back to his younger brother. Fraser recovered quickly, but that still only left four nights of their stay, at which highly inopportune time Catherine’s body committed a grave act of betrayal and commenced her period a full five days early, leaving her feeling lousy, cheated and utterly non-libidinous.

As John Cleese once said, it’s not the despair, it’s the hope I can’t stand; thus Drew seemed to be less frustrated after that point, when he knew there was no opportunity being passed up. Drew was a man who looked at the long-term view of everything. It was how he worked. He was realistic, philosophical and very patient. Up to a point.

He had cooked her a meal last night: three courses, candles, gone to a lot of bother. She had got home later than planned, but that was all right as far as he was concerned: he had already got the kids bathed and pyjamafied. Relax, he said. Sit down, have some wine, eat. She managed the eating and drinking parts, but as she had come straight from the Bay Tree, not the relaxing bit. She could neither think nor talk about anything else; or not talk so much as rant and seethe. Sex was on her mind, but in the most negative way. She kept thinking about Gary Fleeting and his leery conduct towards Laura, his one-night stands with ‘wee durties’ who ‘took it all ways’. She tanned far more than her share of the bottle, then, as her anger burned out, she found that so had all her energy. She barely remembered Drew coming upstairs, though it could only have been five or ten minutes after her, and she was asleep before he’d even got into bed.