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She lets out a low moan of pleasure and grabs my buttocks with her hands, pushing me harder into her.

Oh man, that feels good.

No matter what I told myself this morning, my body didn’t seem to get the memo about bringing things to a close.

Her breath is coming fast now, telling me she’s just as into this as I am, and she gives another little moan of pleasure as we increase the rhythm of our movements.

We’ve not dry-humped before and it’s hotter than I could have imagined.

But I want more. I need more. I have a sudden, urgent need to finish this on a high.

‘We could… you know,’ I mutter against her mouth.

‘Could what?’ she gasps.

‘Have sex. Complete my education.’

My words seem to take a moment to sink in, but when they do, she puts her hands on my jaw and pushes me away so she can look me in the eye. But it’s not an expression of excited agreement I see there.

She’s frowning.

I slow my rocking, unease taking over from sexual hunger.

‘I don’t think we should,’ she says.

‘It’ll be fine,’ I say lamely, my frustration at having to stop now getting in the way of common sense.

‘It won’t be fine,’ she says, putting her hands against my chest and pushing me away from her.

I roll off her and get up, then go to sit on the side of my bed, opposite her, my breathing still accelerated and my mind buzzing.

‘It would be crazy for us to have sex now,’ she says, sitting up too and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed so she can face me.

‘Just when we’re about to stop doing this.

It’s been fine up till now, just fooling around, but actually having sex would be a step too far.

’ She rubs her face with her hands. ‘We should wrap it up now, not make things even more complicated.’

‘It doesn’t have to be complicated. It would just be fucking. It doesn’t have to mean anything,’ I say, though I know I’m talking shit right now.

She knows it too because she says, ‘But it should! You should lose your virginity with someone you really care about. Probably with someone you love.’ There’s a tremble in her voice now and a beseeching look in her eyes.

And that’s the moment I realise things are in danger of tipping over here. She wouldn’t be acting like this if the thing we’ve had going was only a fun fling and meant nothing more than that to her.

The realisation brings me up short.

My pulse has picked up and I suddenly feel panicky and out of my depth.

When I continue to just stare at her and not respond to her implied question, her gaze flicks away from mine. I see her swallow and she blinks rapidly, as if fighting back tears.

I clear my throat, feeling tension there. ‘Yeah, okay. Of course, you’re right. Sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed it,’ I say, at a loss for what to say to make this better. Which I can’t. I’ve well and truly fucked up.

Getting up from the bed, I run my hand through my hair, then walk to the door and turn to look back to her.

‘I’m going to go for a walk on deck to get some air and give us both a bit of space to cool down. I’ll see you in a bit, okay?’

Her eyes are wide and still rimmed with tears as she stares back at me.

I hate feeling like this, but it’s the sensible thing to do to stop it here. I can’t give her what she needs from a real relationship right now, and there’s no point in pretending I can.

I don’t want to give her the wrong idea about how I feel about her and for her to hate me for it afterwards when it doesn’t work out between us.

Turning away, I walk out of the cabin, closing the door quietly, but firmly, behind me.

* * *

I spend a bit of time wandering around the deck, then get a drink and sit on my own for a while, mulling everything over but coming to the same conclusion that I did in the room. This can’t go any further between us.

I can’t allow her to get into my head right now.

Further in.

She was right to stop things when she did.

When I get back to the cabin, the lights are out and Dee appears to be asleep, her back turned towards me.

I don’t wake her up and quietly get ready for sleeping, then get into my own cold, single bed and pull the covers over me.

I don’t manage to fall asleep for ages.

* * *

When I wake up the next morning, Dee is already up and dressed and sitting on her bed reading something on her phone.

She looks over at me as I sit up and pull the blanket off myself.

‘You’ve slept late,’ she says, in what sounds a bit like an accusatory manner. As if I was up late last night partying without her.

Ah, hell . I’ve clearly really upset her and she’s going to give me the cold shoulder now, I expect.

But to my surprise, she then flashes me a grin and says, ‘I grabbed you some breakfast from the buffet. They were starting to run out of the good stuff when I was there earlier and I didn’t want you to have to put up with the scrag ends.’

‘Oh. Right. Well, thanks, I appreciate it,’ I say, giving her a nod. ‘Very thoughtful of you.’

She quirks an eyebrow at me. ‘I do think about other people sometimes,’ she says, but there’s no sting of reproach in her voice.

I’m grateful for her maturity about this. I was expecting her to ignore and/or berate me today, so this is a welcome outcome.

I go and get showered and dressed in the titchy en-suite and come back out to find she’s put the plate of food she picked up for me on my bed.

‘Thanks,’ I say, sitting down to eat it. I’m hungry this morning. Ravenous, in fact.

Dee goes back to reading on her phone and I’m glad of the reprieve from having to make awkward conversation. I’m still feeling shitty about how things went last night and aware we’ve still got some intensive time together before we’re back home.

It’s not long after I’ve taken the last mouthful that they announce the ferry is pulling into the harbour at Bari.

We dutifully pack up our scarce possessions in silence and make our way out to the passenger exit, ready to disembark.

I’m antsy now. Not sure how to act or what to say. But Dee seems almost serene. Like she’s crossed over to the other side of something I’ve not been invited to join her in.

It feels… weird.

The transfer between the ferry and the train to Milan goes without a hitch and we’re soon in our seats and speeding along the Adriatic coast, taking in the magnificent scenery.

Still, she doesn’t ask me any direct questions and only answers my own queries with the sparsest of detail. She’s definitely holding herself back now. Giving me the space I asked for.

Huh.

This part of the journey seems to take forever and I get a lot of work done in between the regular leg stretches, snacking and napping we do whenever necessary.

Dee’s a good travelling companion, it turns out. She can actually entertain herself – despite my previous mean-spirited suggestion that she needs other people to keep her amused – and is always alert enough to hand over tickets or passports whenever called upon to do so.

Which is helpful for me when I’m in the middle of writing a line of code and can’t bear to be interrupted in case I lose my train of thought.

We actually seem to bumble along okay.

I think she’s trying to prove something to me.

But I suspect this will only ever be a short-term swerve, now it’s become clear there’s nowhere else for this relationship – if that’s what you can call it – to go.

* * *

The next leg of the journey is a high-speed train from Milan to Paris and once we make it there, we manage to get pretty much straight onto our Eurostar connection. Thankfully, these seats recline, so we’re able to sleep as the train speeds us to London.

We step out onto St Pancras train station, blinking and yawning, and stumble over to Kings Cross for the final part of the journey.

The Underground is busy, so we have to squish ourselves into a carriage on a Circle Line train to Paddington station.

Dee is forced to press herself up against me and for one mad moment, I almost put my arms around her and hug her close to my body.

For one last touch. But at the last second, I manage to resist the temptation.

The way I look at it, I’m doing both of us a favour by holding the line here.

Unfortunately, the train to Bath is delayed, so we end up sitting in a noisy coffee shop for forty minutes waiting for it, slowly sipping increasingly cooling coffees as people bustle past us.

We’ve managed to maintain a basic level of conversation throughout the journey, mostly about practical things, but just as we’re getting up to head to our delayed train that’s finally made an appearance, Dee turns to me and says, ‘So when we get back, do we just pretend to Bea that everything’s normal between us? ’

I can tell from the stilted way she says this that it’s been on her mind to ask it for a while and she’s blurted it out now, unable to hold it back any longer.

‘I think that’s probably the best way to handle it, yes,’ I say slowly. ‘As agreed, right?’ I add, with emphasis.

She just looks at me for a few seconds, as if she’s hoping I’ll say something more.

But I don’t. There’s nothing more to say.

Her answering nod is a little jerky and she opens her mouth as if to say something, but then shuts it again. I see her swallow, then she clears her throat. ‘We’d better go,’ she says, giving me a tight smile.

Oh man, what’s going on in her head now?

No. I don’t want to know.

I can’t get into this.

So I grab my bag and say, ‘Yeah, let’s go,’ and walk out of there and straight to our train without looking at her again.

I’m aware of her following behind me, lagging a little due to her still being compromised by her damaged ankle, but I don’t slow down for her.

Once we’ve boarded the train and found our reservation, she sits in the seat next to me and puts her headphones straight on, then opens up her book app.

I relax a little, relieved she’s not going to restart that conversation, and settle back in my seat, closing my eyes.

It’ll be a huge relief to finally get back to Bath and the life I’ve methodically carved out for myself there.

I hope Bea’s been okay holding the fort.

I’ve deliberately refrained from getting in touch with her much while I’ve been in Greece, bar the odd short, business-focused text, because I wanted to keep this thing with Dee under wraps.

I think in the back of my mind I was afraid Bea might sense there was something a bit off or different about me if we talked.

Which was probably an overreaction, but I didn’t want to risk making this crazy situation any more complicated.

I’m actually looking forward to seeing her again now and getting back into our regular rhythm of work.

There’s a strange, unsettled feeling in my belly though and a tightness in my chest. Probably from being exhausted after all the travel.

Opening my eyes, I slide my laptop out of my bag and prop it on the narrow, fold-down tray on the back of the seat in front of me.

Staring at the code on the screen, I try to force my foggy brain into action.

But it’s impossible to concentrate. I’m too strung out and tired.

Too aware of Dee sitting quietly next to me.

So I close the lid and put my computer away again.

Glancing at her, I see she’s got her eyes closed now.

A rush of something that feels like nostalgia, or a sort of strange longing , swamps me and I have to force it down and turn my thoughts to all the things I need to do once I’m back home instead. The top of the list being to visit my mum.

An hour later, we’ve arrived at Bath train station and ten minutes after that, a taxi delivers us to Bea’s flat and we stumble up to the front door.

And finally, finally , we’re back.