British Bachelors: Gorgeous and Impossible. Jessica Hart

and cookery writer. It’s the most amazing opportunity, but we do need to get you out to Texas on Sunday, so you can interview all of the darling children who are staying at the ranch. Of course it’ll be first class all the way and … Lexi? Are you there? Hello?’

      Mark flicked down the prop stand on his scooter, whipped off his crash helmet and looked out across the road towards the hydrofoil, then breathed a huge sigh of relief

      Standing on the edge of the pier, on the harbour wall, was Lexi Sloane.

      And as he watched Lexi drew back her arm and threw her purple telephone with all her might over her head and into the air.

      She simply stood there, panting with exertion and the heat and horror as her precious link to the outside world, her business contacts, her lifeline to business that never left her side, made a graceful arc into the sea.

      It hit the waves with a slight splosh and was gone.

      Well, that was interesting.

      Lexi hardly noticed that someone had come to sit next to her on the bench until he stretched out his legs and she saw the sharp crease on his smart navy trousers, and the black crash helmet cradled on his knee.

      ‘Hi,’ she said.

      ‘Hello,’ Mark replied. ‘I didn’t have much luck in the shops so I thought I’d join you, instead. Much more entertaining.’

      They sat in silence, watching the hydrofoil crew help passengers onto the deck.

      Lexi lifted her head and frowned, as though she had just woken up from a deep sleep.

      ‘Did I just throw my phone into the sea?’

      ‘Yes. I watched you do it from the car park. For a casual overarm technique it made a very nice curve for the few seconds it was airborne. Have you ever thought of playing cricket? Not much of a splash, though.’

      ‘Oh. I was hoping I had imagined that bit. No chance I could get it back, I suppose?’

      ‘Sorry. Your phone is probably covered by about thirty feet of salt water by now.’

      ‘Right. Thirty feet.’

      Mark sidled up to her on the bench. ‘When I take an awkward call I often find it better to wait a few moments before replying. How about you?’

      She shook her head. ‘You see what people do to me? They make my head spin so fast that I throw my phone, that I need for my job and has all my numbers, into the sea.’ She gesticulated towards the open water. ‘There’s probably a law against polluting the Mediterranean with small electrical items. Perhaps you could direct me to the local police station? Because I have to tell you, handing myself in and spending some time in solitary confinement sounds pretty good to me right now.’

      She swallowed hard but no more words would form through the pain in her throat.

      ‘Attractive though that option might sound, I have an alternative suggestion. I have a spare phone and a number of spare bedrooms which you are welcome to use any time you like. And I still owe you dessert. If you are available?’

      ‘Available? Oh, yes, I am available. I’m always ready to step in at a moment’s notice when they can’t find anyone else. Why not? After all, I don’t have a life.’

      ‘Don’t say that. You know it isn’t true.’

      ‘Do I? Then why is it that I choose to live through other people’s experiences of a happy family life, and other women’s children? No, Mark, I do it because I want to forget for just those few days that I am never going to have children of my own. But it’s crushing me. It is totally crushing me.’

      And then lovely Lexi, totally in control as ever, burst into hysterical tears.