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“You haven’t fucked again? I thought you were going to use him for sex right back?” Sammy seems genuinely surprised. I must have forgotten to tell her how I was feeling about it all. I’ve been unloading this shit on Giovanna, I guess.

“Because he treats me like shit, Sam. I feel my self-respect evaporate after every date.”

“I thought you said the dates were all good,” Massi frowns.

“The dates are fun. But then he has his booty calls waiting for him when we get home or he goes straight toPeacocks.I feel gross. I’d rather not go through the pretence and just have a formal arranged marriage. Separate rooms. Separate lives.”

Massi turns on his side, leaning on his elbow, and stares down at me. My own personal solar eclipse. “That sounds miserable though,” he says softly.

“Not as miserable as getting to know, and like, maybe evenlove, my husband only for him to traipse mistress after mistress through our lives. Fuck that so much.”

“I’m so sorry, Ches. I didn’t realise. I thought things were gradually improving,” Massi says softly.

“I haven’t really talked about it, so you weren’t to know.”

I flip over onto my back and with my hands behind my head allow some self-indulgent silent tears to trickle out of the corners of my eyes. Masked by my sunglasses, my tears go unnoticed.

Another panic attack lurks in the wings as I think about how much I hate that Massimo’s loyalties are now split. We were in our own world in London. We only cared about having fun and each other. Now, my pain is caused by the actions of his family, the family he works for.

I reach out and squeeze his forearm. “I think I’d die without you, Massi. Please - please…I know it’s your family, but I need you too.”

“You fuckin’ goose,” he leans over and plants a kiss on my forehead. “I’m not going anywhere. No matter what our mental fuckin’ families do.”

Sniffing, I nod.

As the sun rises in the sky and we roast alive on the golden sand, our chat chills out and we relax into our usual relaxed banter.

We go for a swim and play around in the waves like Massi and I did when we were younger and roughly the same size. Now Massi manhandles both me and Sammy and throws us over his shoulders like a fireman, tossing us into the salty sea like we weigh nothing.

“Oi! Knock it off, you ratbags!” We all turn to locate the source of the voice.

Bluey stands at the shore with his surfboard under his arm, his other hand shielding his eyes as he cracks a wide smile at us. Naturally, he’s wearing a pair of tight blue budgie smugglers which leave little to the imagination. He is covered in so many freckles that there is hardly a millimetre of pale skin between them. His skin looks almost golden.

We wade back towards the shore and he looks me and Sammy up and down appreciatively. His eyes flick to Massimo standing slightly behind me and they hold each other’s gaze for long enough that I turn to look at Massi but he looks away.

“Fancy seeing you here,” I say in a sing-song voice. “Who knew there were abs hiding under that suit huh?” I give him a wink. He’s a good-looking guy. Solid and dependable. He’s handsome enough to be attractive but it is his personality that radiates.

“Don’t tell anyone my secret!” he jokes. “If they find out I’m not a ranga Homer Simpson, I’ll have to beat the women off with a stick. Who’s ya friend, Pup?” He has taken to calling me Pup since he found out that the Marinos call mecucciolotta.

“A real burden for you,” I roll my eyes, laughing before introducing him to Sammy.

His attention switches to Massi. “You got yourself a board yet, little prince?”

My eyebrows shoot up towards my hairline and my eyes dart to Massi, but he has his firmly on the burly redhead.Little Prince. That’s new.

I can hear the cheeky grin in Massi’s voice when he replies. “Not yet, but don’t worry I won’t let anyone else teach me.”

“That’s right. I’m poppin’ that cherry!” He belly laughs and then jogs into the sea calling back over his shoulder, “I’ll come find you guys after.”

“Bluey’s gonna pop your cherry, Massi,” I wriggle my eyebrows at him as we perch once more on our towels.

“Shhhhaaaaaard uuuuup,” he drawls, his cheeks growing a little rosier. “Flirtatious straight men are my kryptonite.”

“Do you want me to fuck him for you so you can fuck him by proxy?” Sammy asks.

“Are you into him?” He shoots back.

“I mean, yeah he’s a good-looking dude. He’d go alright in the sack too, I reckon.” she shrugs. “Wouldn’t be my first choice, but wouldn’t be a chore.”