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‘Erm, I think he had to go somewhere before the fundraiser, so we’re going to meet him there.’

‘Well, lucky for you I drove here, so I’ll give you and Adam a lift there,’ Mel offers as she slathers the lotion all over my legs. ‘I’m going to need you naked for this.’

‘Did I hear that right?’ Adam calls from the other side of the bedroom door.

‘Yeah, you did, perv,’ Mel calls back. ‘And don’t bother asking to watch, you cheeky boy.’

He laughs.

‘Hey, I was just getting something from outside the room, and I heard you say you would give me a ride,’ he replies.

‘Something like that,’ she teases back. ‘So you didn’t hear anything about me smothering Lia in lotion?’

‘No comment,’ he calls back. ‘I’ll see you downstairs.’

I’ve always admired Mel’s confidence. Men seem to really like it, her naturally flirty nature. I’ve never quite been able to pull it off. They say true confidence comes from within – sometimes, I believe it’s either already in there or it isn’t, and that’s just the hand you’ve been dealt.

‘He’s good fun, isn’t he?’ Mel says, turning her attention back to the task at hand. ‘Hot and funny.’

‘He really is the whole package,’ I reply.

I can’t help but smile to myself, then sigh, because he really does seem perfect – perfect for me at least.

‘You and him,’ she starts, narrowing her eyes at me, ‘you’re not…’

‘No, no, no,’ I insist. ‘Absolutely not. We’re housemates, colleagues, and yeah, friends, but that’s it.’

‘Okay, cool,’ she replies, her face softening again. ‘Look, I know I’m not strictly single…’

‘You’re not single at all,’ I remind her.

‘…but just in case I ever am,’ she continues. ‘Can you put in a good word for me?’

I blink at her.

‘Like, if you could just suggest it, in the car on the way to the beach,’ she continues. ‘You never know, right?’

‘You really don’t,’ I reply with a laugh.

Obviously, Mel isn’t single, so I don’t have anything to worry about there, but it does remind me that Adam is the kind of guy women want. He clearly has women lining up around the block to be with him – look at Mel, I’m sure she’s mostly joking about sacking off her family for him, but people always joke about how they really feel.

He could probably have his pick of any women he wanted. How on earth can I ever compete with that, eh?

39

The only thing less surprising than the fact I ‘forgot’ to talk to Adam about him potentially dating Mel if she’s ever single again (because I’m almost certain she was somewhere between joking and wishful thinking) is the fact that, once again, my tan has failed to develop. Mel reckons it’s supposed to go on right away, so you can see where you’ve been, so you don’t miss any bits – but I’m just as pale as when she started. Still, at least now I can relax, without worrying about what colour my skin will be by the end of the day, because given Mel’s track record, I don’t even think turning blue would surprise me at this point. I suppose at least then I could try to pass myself off as a Smurf. On Halloween, all bets are off; any wardrobe malfunction can be chalked up to a costume decision, right?

It may be a relatively warm autumn evening, but as Adam and I walk along the beach, towards the backstage area, it feels positively frosty between us. Things were so good between us, before all this mess, and I really miss that. Instead of having a laugh and enjoying each other’s company like we used to, we’re just walking in silence – me not knowing what to say, and him just probably not wanting to talk to me generally.

Temporary fencing has been put up around the festival site, to keep the general public out. They even have two doormen guarding the gate, ticking people’s names off a list before they let them inside. I’m relieved when one of the doormen lets me in, because even though I know full well that I’m invited, it would be just my luck to be turned away – and I doubt Adam would help me out; he’d probably leave me out here, so that he could continue to avoid me.

Inside the area, it’s unrecognisable; you could forget where you were. It’s also rammed with outdoor heaters, as promised, which my fishnet tights are grateful for. Even if the temp drops later, at least I know I can slowly cook myself under one of these bad boys.

At one side there are tables and chairs with big, beautiful parasols covering them, stalls have been set up around a pop-up bar, and there’s a row of food stands selling hot dogs, roasted nuts and toffee apples that all smell delicious. Finally, at the far side of the enclosed area we have a team of construction workers who are set up in front of what I’m guessing is supposed to be the final stages of the build, but it definitely looks like a pointless photo op to me. Kerry had this wonderful idea that, to keep this a community project, everyone could have a go at helping to build the backstage area – heavily supervised, of course, lest it all comes crashing down. Sadly for her, though, it doesn’t look like most of the VIPs have paid much attention to the dress code because they’ve all come dressed in their best. Adam and I look at one another, both coming to the same realisation at the same time – that everyone else here is dressed in their best, normal, smart-casual clothes. It’s okay for him, he’s wearing jeans, a T-shirt and a leather jacket (he’s Danny from Grease) – he looks good. His outfit could pass for normal clothes. I, on the other hand… I look like I’m going to a Wild West fancy dress party. For swingers.

‘I’m going to grab a beer,’ Adam tells me bluntly. ‘Can I get you anything?’

It’s nice of him to offer but, judging by the tone he asked in, it doesn’t sound like he wants me to say yes.