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‘Hmmmn,’ said Claire, ‘I’m not sure the words “casual” and “knockabout” go together in Rob’s vocabulary. He’s ridiculously competitive.’

I thought about Theo. I supposed that, in a way, his career choice indicated that he was ambitious, which usually – not always, presumably – came hand in hand with being competitive. Even I was secretly more competitive than I wanted to admit. And I didn’t like that part of myself. And while I was mostly happy for other authors who were hitting bestseller lists and getting picked for the Richard and Judy Book Club, and I certainly wouldn’t want to take anything away from them, I wanted it, too. Desperately. And I wasn’t entirely comfortable with myself for feeling that way.

‘Look, I’m sure it’ll be fine,’ I said, trying to reassure myself as well as Claire. ‘And the main thing is, we’re doing this to help you. If Rob realises that he can actually have a good time out here, he might relax enough to get something out of it.’

Claire held up her fingers and crossed them.

‘Anyway, I’d better go and write for a couple of hours before lunch,’ I said, picking up my water bottle. ‘Theo wants us to share our work, so the pressure’s on.’

Claire shook her head. ‘I don’t know how you two do it. I was crap at creative writing at school.’

‘Ah, but I bet you were brilliant at lots of other things,’ I said, smiling at her.

She was the type of person I’d always wished I could be. Outspoken. Funny. Carefree. Could speak in front of a crowd without going crimson.

‘See you at this afternoon’s task,’ I said to Claire as I started back to my room.

‘Let’s hope there’s no sexual yoga poses involved,’ Claire called after me.

On my way in I passed Harmony and Paul who had pitched up on a towel on the grass; Harmony was reading a pretentious-looking self-help book and I noticed that Paul had his nose in Jackson’s latest, a reminder I didn’t need of another relationship gone wrong

At 2 p.m. we all gathered in our usual spot at the far end of the pool, where Melissa had laid out something akin to a kindergarten’s art table adorned with scissors, glue, glitter and piles of magazines and postcards. My instinct was to turn and walk the other way. Whatever she had in mind, it didn’t seem as though it was going to be a particularly productive use of my time.

‘Welcome to our next task, everyone. Something I hope that you’ll find rewarding and insightful,’ said Melissa.

Theo and I made eye contact for the first time that day. We’d been in our rooms writing separately and although I hadn’t seen him, I’d heard him once or twice, movingaround, going out onto his balcony, the scraping of chair legs on his lino floor.

‘Afternoon,’ he said, his deep rumble tapping into an old memory.

I used to love the way he sounded confident and unfazed in even the most uncomfortable of situations. He was the sort of guy who walked into a room and commanded attention, an ability I’d always quietly envied.

‘I want you guys to make yourselves a beautiful vision board,’ announced Melissa, holding up an A3-sized piece of white card.

There were some positive ooohs and aaahs (mostly from Harmony).

‘And I specifically want you to focus on how you want your life to look in five years’ time,’ added Melissa.

I gave Claire a disgruntled look. Harmony and Paul were, of course, nodding along worthily as though there was nothing in this world they’d rather spend their afternoon doing. Seriously, the whole of the French Riviera was out there, sparkling enticingly, just down the road. Did I really want to be stuck here cutting pictures out of magazines?

‘What exactly are we supposed to be putting on this vision board?’ asked Renee, trying to pretend she was up for it.

‘Let me explain,’ said Melissa. ‘This task is all about thinking ahead. I want you to consider your hopes and dreams as individuals – your careers, your families, your hobbies, your friendships et cetera. And also what you want to achieve together, as a couple. How would you like your relationship to be different in five years’ time? What are you hoping that this retreat is the start of? What changes do you want the ten days we have together to ignite?’

I sighed inwardly. Yet another task that wasn’t relevant to me and Theo. If I had my way, I wouldn’t have anythingto do with him in five years’ time. In my fantasy, we’d write this book together and the sales would be excellent (let’s try to stay optimistic here), but I hadn’t thought beyond that. To my mind, this would never be a permanent partnership. Perhaps we’d dip our toes in once a decade: write something together, tolerate each other for the six months it took us to complete, and then go back to writing on our own, just as we liked it.

Melissa encouraged us all to grab a pile of magazines from the table.

‘I want you to find a place in the garden, nowhere near your partners,’ she said.

Theo took a step closer to me, bending to whisper in my ear. His breath tingled on my neck.

‘I really feel like we should be writing,’ he said. ‘I was getting into a flow upstairs and now I’ve interrupted it for some sort of toddler’s playtime task.’

‘I know, I feel the same way,’ I said, keeping my voice low, too. ‘But I don’t think we can walk off now, can we? I’d feel bad for Melissa.’

He shook his head, standing upright again. ‘We should never have got involved in all of this in the first place. This is vital writing time we’re wasting and I don’t know about you, but I want to get this thing done and dusted as quickly as possible.’

So that he didn’t have to spend any more time with me than was strictly necessary, I supposed. I mean, I got that it was awkward, but couldn’t he be a bit more tactful about it?