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For a moment, I’m almost taken in by it and the fantasy it’s selling. The great thing about photos is that you can mentally cut out things that don’t fit the idyll, like the strong smell of rotting fish that still makes my stomach turn over when I think of it. The issue here, however, is that it’s not just the smell that has been airbrushed away. Everything about the image is a lie. We’re not a couple and we’re certainly not on holiday.

‘I’ll send it to you,’ Nathan says, taking the phone back and tapping at the screen. After a minute or so, my own phone beeps to let me know the picture has arrived. Nathan continues his scrolling.

‘You got some really good ones of the sharks,’ he observes. ‘Not easy from the boat.’

‘They were so close to the surface that they were easy to spot,’ I explain. ‘I expected them to be deeper.’

‘They are, normally, but they come to the surface to feed. What they like to do is ambush their prey from below with a high-speed vertical attack. Sometimes, they’re going so fast when they strike that they come completely out of the water. Imagine how much power that takes. They are truly impressive creatures.’

I remember the captain’s words when I was leaning over the side of the boat and shudder. ‘I guess that depends on your point of view. I mean, it’s probably great if you’re the shark, but less so if you’re the prey.’

‘True, but that’s all about the balance of nature, isn’t it. You eat me, something else eats you and so on up the food chain.’

‘Does anything prey on great whites, or are they at the top of their tree?’

‘Apart from us, you mean? Apparently, orcas have developed a bit of a taste for them. Specifically the livers, from what I read. They rip out the liver almost surgically and just leave the rest.’

‘Of course they do. They’re like the playground bullies of the sea, aren’t they? I saw this nature documentary once where a seal was sitting on an ice floe, minding its own business, and a group of orcas were working together to knock it off so they could eat it. Bastards.’

‘Yes, I saw that one too. It’s not surprising that they don’t react terribly well to being kept in captivity and forced to perform circus tricks, is it.’

I take a small sip of my wine. This is OK, actually. The conversation seems to be flowing naturally between us and I’ve almost forgotten about the mystery stalker. I move to sit next to Nathan so I can look at the pictures with him and, I have to say, a few of mine aren’t bad at all, particularly as I was distracted by Mrs Barry for some of the time.

‘I wonder how Barry’s getting on,’ I murmur without thinking.

‘Eh?’

I sit up. ‘Remember I was chatting to his wife while you were down there and she said this experience was bound to make him… what was the word? Frisky, that’s it.’ Another image of Barry and his wife going at it hammer and tongs appears in my mind, and I focus back on the screen to try to blot it out. ‘Sorry,’ I say. ‘It just stuck in my head as an odd reaction.’

Nathan smiles. ‘I don’t know. If the movies are to be believed, there’s nothing more erotic than being in mortal peril. How many films have you seen where the main characters narrowly avoid being blown up or hit by a runaway train, only to fall straight into each other’s arms?’

‘That’s totally unrealistic though, isn’t it,’ I reply with a laugh. ‘I mean, if I’d just nearly died, sex would be the last thing on my mind.’

‘I’ve never been able to decide. I mean, it does seem unlikely when you say it like that, but think of the rush of endorphins knowing not just that you’ve cheated death, but what a close shave it was.’

Just as I’m trying to come up with a suitable riposte, his phone pings and both our eyes fall automatically to the preview on screen.

+44 7927 606377

Come on, Nathan. We can sort this out. Just talk to me. Kxx

The silence that falls is thick as treacle. Nathan must know that I saw the message, especially the Kxx at the end. He sets the phone face down on the table before leaning back into the sofa, shutting his eyes and rubbing his face distractedly. I try out several opening questions in my head before giving it up as a bad job, opting to let the silence drag on instead.

‘K is Kayleigh, if you’re interested,’ Nathan says eventually. His voice sounds drained and far away, as if the effort of speaking is almost too much for him.

‘Is she the one who’s been messaging you all day?’ I ask.

‘Yup.’

Now that Kayleigh is at least partly out in the open, the questions are filling my mind so fast, I’m worried they’ll overflow and I’ll start blurting them out before I have a chance to think. Instead, I force myself to keep quiet and let him collect his thoughts. I get the impression that he’s just about to speak again when his phone starts ringing. The shrillness of it in the silence makes me jump, and Nathan turns it over gingerly, as if it were an unexploded bomb. It’s another unrecognised number, but the +27 prefix indicates that this one is South African.

‘Hello?’ he says tentatively. After a moment, his shoulders visibly sag in relief. ‘Thank you. I’ll come down,’ he continues before hanging up. ‘The pizza is here. I’ll be back in a moment.’

I don’t know whether to laugh or cry with frustration. I swear he was on the cusp of opening up and telling me everything, only for the moment to be ruined by the arrival of some doubtlessly limp and overpriced dough. I take an angry swig of wine, ignoring the fact that I still haven’t eaten yet, and getting drunk will only make him more likely to clam up. Instead, I feel the sweet liquid go down, and hope it emboldens me. I fetch cutlery out of the kitchen drawers and lay the table. I doubt we’ll use it, but at least it looks like we’re going to sit down for a civilised meal rather than just inhale the pizzas straight from the boxes, which is what I’m sure we’ll do.

‘Dinner!’ Nathan announces unnecessarily as he comes back into the flat and places the boxes on the counter. My stomach growls loudly in anticipation as we open them and the most amazing aromas fill the room. Never mind cutlery, we don’t even make it to the table, cramming the first slices into our mouths while we’re still standing at the kitchen counter.

‘Oh my God, that’s so good,’ I groan through a large mouthful. I know I’m probably biased because I’m starving, but this really is the best pizza I’ve ever tasted. The dough is thin with just the right amount of resistance as you bite into it, while the tangy toppings are sending my tastebuds into overdrive.