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‘On that note, I think I’ll head back to my room. Enjoy the rest of your afternoon, ladies,’ he said, nodding at me and then swimming over to the steps and getting out as Renee and I watched him appreciatively. I mean, you couldn’t not. It was like Daniel Craig emerging from the water in those pale blue trunks inCasino Royale.

‘You two make a beautiful couple,’ said Renee, unashamedly following him with her eyes.

‘We’re just writing partners, Renee,’ I mumbled.

‘Scarlett, we can all see what’s really going on here,’ she said.

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ I said. Had everyone been gossiping behind our backs or something?

‘Oh, I think you do,’ said Renee, smiling to herself.

I wondered if Renee had somehow picked up on the highly inappropriate fantasies I’d been having lately. And if she could, could Theo? Well, there would be no more of that, I vowed to myself as I mumbled a goodbye to Renee and swam for the steps. I’d just have to summon all the acting skills I had for the rest of this trip and pretend like I still hated Theo as much as I had when I’d touched down in Nice a week ago. Which was pretty hard when he was in the next room with nothing but a flimsy wall between us and a door that could lock and unlock from both sides.

Chapter Twenty

Having spent the rest of the afternoon chained to my laptop, finishing off the chapters we planned to send to Carla the following day, it had felt good to meet up with the others for dinner. Except that now Melissa had organised after-dinner drinks, and I was pretty sure there was going to be a task involved.

‘Tonight, we’re doing an anti-speed-dating exercise,’ Melissa announced, directing us each to a particular table.

I was wearing the white linen shorts I’d bought from Zara on Rue d’Antibes earlier in the week and had paired them with a navy-and-white knitted vest I’d had for years and my go-to pair of black strappy sandals. For the first time since I’d arrived I felt polished and chic in a way that Theo had appeared to effortlessly embody every single evening.

‘An anti-what?’ asked Claire, looking worried. ‘Please tell me we’re not going to be speed-dating our own husbands?’

‘Actually, you’ll beanti-speed-dating somebody else’s husband,’ said Melissa.

‘Huh?’ I said, confused, and also getting a very brief thrill out of the thought that Theo was effectively – for one night only – my sort of husband.

Melissa pointed me in the direction of a table where Paul was ominously waiting for me and a baffled-looking Theo (who I had to say was looking particularly good in a bluejeans and white shirt combo) to a different table, with Claire following closely behind.

Once we were all seated, Melissa gave us our instructions.

‘In a second, the lovely hotel staff will serve you all a cocktail – a signature blend epitomising the verve and beauty of Cannes.’

‘Great,’ I said, meaning it. Alcohol was clearly key with a task like this.

‘I can get a mocktail, right?’ asked Paul.

Great, a sober Paul was going to be even less fun.

Melissa waved his question away and carried on. ‘I want you to spend the next half hour or so discussing with your partner everything you’ve observed about their relationship so far. So Claire, you tell Theo what you’ve noticed about him and Scarlett. Any thoughts you have, any suggestions, anything that resonates with you in terms of your own relationship that it might be helpful to share. And then you swap. Does that make sense?’

There was a collective mumble/groan. It made sense, essentially, but I also didn’t particularly care what Paul had to say about me. He was probably the person in the group I felt least connected to – we’d literally had one conversation about California weather and that was it. What great insights into my not-a-relationship could he possibly impart? I glanced over at Theo, who was already deep in conversation with Claire. I supposed that at the very least, something useful might come out of that. Claire was easy to talk to in a way that maybe I wasn’t (not for Theo, at least) and she was already a good friend – she had my back, and I didn’t think she would hold back when it came to getting the truth out of him.

‘Who wants to start?’ asked Paul, his smooth standard-American accent gliding across the space between us.

‘I’ll do you first,’ I said, delaying the inevitable. Paul and Harmony had been pretty vocal about not wanting Theo and me in the group from the start and I wanted to put his acerbic opinions off for as long as possible. Not that I cared, I reminded myself.

A cocktail was delivered at the perfect time and after a few sips I felt brave enough to start.

‘So I know you’re a movie producer and that Harmony runs a yoga studio,’ I said. ‘And it feels like the two of you really complement each other. She grounds you and you energise her.’

‘Guess so,’ said Paul, sitting back in his chair and chugging on his syrupy-looking mocktail.

‘And I noticed there’s a lot of kindness in your relationship,’ I said, treading carefully now. Because I was determined to be honest, that was the whole point of the exercise. ‘But I wonder whether perhaps you’re masking some of your more difficult feelings?’

There, I’d said it. It might not go down well, but it was true. I was fed up with Paul dominating our group sessions with his insights about everyone else. Time for him to face the music.

‘How so?’ asked Paul.