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The plane picks up speed, until that moment when we are slammed back into our seats, the force lifting us slowly into the air, the windows rattling lightly.

I’m different, I’ve always liked that feeling, that charge down the runway, the roar, the anticipation.

And then you’re floating. The world is behind you.

I turn to Charlie – every part of him tense, strained – and I put my hand over his. I squeeze it tightly.

Charlie

‘Sir, you told us that it would be about twenty degrees, it’s bloody boiling!

’ Viraj says, stripping off his tracksuit top and tying it round his waist. It’s not just him, it’s our whole group who stand there outside the youth hostel on the pavement, stripping off their layers to escape the heat, admiring the blue skies and the sun shining like a beacon above us.

Hola, sunshine, how I’ve missed you. Over by the coach, I notice Suzie, taking off her hoodie to reveal a vest top, sunglasses on and looking up to the sun to absorb the warmth.

It’s a pose that triggers a bit of déjà vu so I quickly look away.

Suzie is here on this trip. It’s fine. She’s here because she’s a good professional who wanted to save the trip.

She’s not here because of me. She’s not here because of me.

She did hold my hand when the plane took off because I have an irrational fear of flying.

And then she had a little nap and her head landed on my shoulder.

That wasn’t out of choice. That was because I was next to her and the physics of the situation meant her head leaned towards me.

I close my eyes. Did her hair smell nice, though? Yes, it did.

‘You can have this back now, Sir,’ Lola tells me, snapping me out of my trance and throwing my hoodie at me.

‘Thank you kindly, Lola,’ I say, marvelling at how she is immediately the most suitable person dressed for this heat.

‘And this is Senor Shaw. Say hello, Sir!’ she says, immediately sticking her phone in my face.

‘?Hola!’ I say, waving into the screen. ‘Is this some sort of vlog, Lola?’

‘Of course.’

‘A perfect time to practise your Spanish skills, ?sí?’

‘You’re so funny, Sir!’

I watch as she heads into the hostel and I hand out the rest of the trolley bags in the hold.

I can do this. Keep my distance, respect the boundaries as a work colleague.

I feel the sweat running down the back of my T-shirt, starting to run down my brow.

The hostel is in the heart of the city, and the drive over was less scenic and more roads of low-rise industrial estates, palm trees and fast-food places; the children all marvelling at the fact there was a McDonald’s here.

Arriving in the city involved entering rabbit-warren-style roads, our coach fighting against the narrow Andalucian streets.

I always liked that, the lack of tarmac, the rustic feel of the streets, old ladies dragging trolley bags along noisily with their shopping, people sitting outside cafés casually, legs up on seats, everything slowed down because of the heat, the vibrant sound of Spanish flitting in and down the streets like birdsong.

And then we got to our hostel: a satsuma-coloured building with cast-iron balcony railings at each window.

Mosaics spell out the language school name and street number and I look up to see that building reach into the sky, the orange perfectly set against the bright blue.

The street is crowded with cars and the heat radiates off the cobbles.

It’s familiar and drenched in sun and I inhale deeply to let that heat enter my body.

‘Gracias, Senor,’ I tell the coach driver.

‘?Suerte, Senor!’ he says, grinning broadly to see all the kids gathering in the foyer of the hostel.

That’s what the last bloke said on a similar coach in Mallorca.

Stag do or school trip. I don’t know what the lesser of two evils is but if anyone gets on a mechanical bull here then they are on their own.

I walk towards the hostel where Lee and his plastic pockets of registers and organisation stands in the foyer.

He takes a long drink of water and tries waving his hand in the air.

‘Senores and senoritas, I know we are all tired but let’s sort this out and then we will leave you alone to find your rooms before we have lunch and head out.

Young man, can you put your shirt back on please?

You are not a football hooligan. I am giving you keys.

Do not lose these keys! And no arguments about the rooming, please. ’

He goes through a list of names, calling them out in fours, directing them towards dorms as the crowd of fifty children gets smaller until there is only the staff standing there by the desk.

‘Who the hell is that annoying one with the buzz cut and the earring?’ Jackie from HR asks. ‘Anyone want to trade? He’s so gobby. ’

‘Trade you for Kyle with the flatulence problem,’ Mark says.

Lee goes through his folders once again, chatting to reception as Suzie stands there quietly. ‘Who do you have?’ I ask her.

‘Mostly girls. Lola…’

‘She’s a nice girl. If you need a conversational in then ask her about Josh.’

‘From my French class, Josh?’

I nod. Don’t look at the sweat pooling around her collarbone.

‘So, guys. The room situation…um…err…’ from his hesitation, I am not quite sure what he’s hinting at. It’d better not be sleeping bags as my back won’t cope with that.

‘Don’t tell me it’s bunk beds,’ Mark says. ‘You know what happened on the ski trip.’

‘What happened on the ski trip?’ Suzie asks.

‘Mark got drunk, fell out of one and took out a tooth,’ Jackie, his wife, explains, rolling her eyes.

‘You two have a double bed because you’re married…’

‘I’m in with our tour host, Jorge and then…I know this is awkward but because we thought Fraser was coming, the other room is a bunk bedroom for you guys,’ he says, looking at myself and Suzie.

We both freeze, looking at Lee. I can almost hear the universe pointing and laughing at us.

‘I know this is awkward but there’s no other room.

I don’t want it to be awkward. If you’d like to stay at another hostel nearby, we can try and find you a bed elsewhere, in an all-female dorm?

Or we can put you in with some of the girl students,’ Lee says, looking at Suzie.

‘Or I could go so you’d be with the group?

’ I offer. This is mildly ridiculous. First the plane and now this.

I think about what Brooke said about the stars aligning.

How the stars may have tripped Fraser up at pickleball to facilitate this situation and to now be pushing us in a hostel room together.

It does feel like the stars were not in her flat that day though to witness the very awkward sex we had.

I don’t know what they’re trying to tell me.

‘Bunks?’ Suzie asks.

‘Again, not ideal but it is ensuite.’

Suzie looks at me again, almost a little suspiciously. I have no idea what she’s thinking.

I put my hand up. ‘Look, ideally we should probably stick with the group because of the ratios and sharing the responsibility of all the kids. But I don’t want this to be awkward.

I can leave the room when you want to use the toilet, get changed or have a shower.

You get to choose the bunk too. Maybe we give it a night and then see what happens? ’

‘Can I go on top?’ she asks, biting her lip, looking down to her feet to stifle her giggles. I hope no one heard that gulp leave my throat and hit the pit of my stomach like a rock.

‘Whatever the senorita wants,’ I reply.

We both stop and look at each other. I can’t quite breathe.

‘Then that is perfect. I am so grateful. So regroup here in an hour? Does that give everyone enough time?’

I nod as Lee hands me a key. I turn to Suzie. ‘Ready, roomie?’

She smiles as we head up the staircase towards our dorm, both of us saying nothing to each other.

I should break the silence, shouldn’t I?

I can bring some humour to it. You don’t snore, do you?

Come on, Charlie. Talk about the heat. Or maybe don’t.

I get to our dorm room, putting the key in the door.

As I push the door open, I see there’s a wooden framed bunk bed to the corner of the terracotta tiled floor, a window that frames the houses of the street across the way and a white gauze curtain waving in the breeze from a fan in the corner. I walk in and Suzie follows me.

‘You wanted to go on top?’ I ask, facing her.

That was not the line to open with. I can’t do this.

I’ll go and sleep outside or something. Because she’s an arm’s length away and all I want to do is kiss her.

My breath gets heavier. Why is this so tense?

Charged. Hot. She doesn’t reply, she just looks at me with her lips parted gently.

Kiss her, Charlie. I take one step towards her.

‘SIR! SIR!’ The moment explodes with fierce knocking on the door. ‘THERE’S NO AIRCON, SIR! WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIE!’