Cara awoke. It was still dark and the alarm clock told her it was only just past midnight. Matt was no longer in bed beside her. There was only an empty space with rumpled sheets and she felt a pang.

It was only their third night together but she was already getting used to him, which was dangerous.

Looking up she noticed that the balcony door was open, the curtain billowing gently from the sea breeze. She got up and saw that Matt was standing out there, looking at the ocean. She felt joy and relief surge inside her which was an even more dangerous sign.

He turned his head and saw her. "I didn’t wake you, did I?"

"No. Have you been awake long?"

"Just a few minutes. Come and join me."

Winding a sheet around her Cara stepped outside and stood against the railing next to him. He put his arm around her, his hand resting gently in the curve of her lower back. She was surprised and happy at the intimacy.

"One of the perks of the job. This…" he indicated the sea, sky and stars. It was one of those tropical nights that people describe as velvet: an ink-black sky with night air warm enough that even the sea breezes didn’t chill the skin. A pale gold moon, shining on the waters.

"It must be interesting, all the travel," Cara said.

"It is. I wanted a job where you could see the world. I studied engineering at university, I had ideas of working in the Middle East if cricket didn’t happen."

"Have you been there?"

"Only as a tourist, a week in Dubai," Matt said. "What about you, with biochemistry?" He had seen the textbooks on the table in her room.

"The same, actually." One of the reasons Cara had chosen it was for the research opportunities overseas. Years ago she had visited Geneva on a school trip and dreamt of living there one day. She told Matt this.

"How’s your Swiss?"

"French, in that part," Cara told him. "I’d have to brush up. Do you pick up different languages on tour?"

"Mainly expletives at the stumps. If I ever need to swear fluently in Urdu I’m set."

Cara laughed.

Matt looked at her, her eyes shining, her hair loose. She was so beautiful and natural. So easy to be with. If it was a different time in his life, if they were both in different places… but there was no point thinking about it. It was something to enjoy for the moment.

"Would you like a drink?" he asked. "I’m a million miles from sleep but I have to be up in a few hours. I could do with something to knock me out."

"I can see what’s in the minibar," Cara said.

"Let’s go up to my room, then we can raid it properly. My tab gets covered."

Cara slipped on a robe and Matt pulled his clothes on and they crept along the corridor to the lift. If anyone was up at this hour of the night and encountered them it would be disastrous. It felt like they were co-conspirators, the risk adding an extra frisson.

When they got to Matt’s room, immaculately made up by the chambermaid earlier that day and still untouched, he put his arms around her and kissed her. "The drink can wait."

They tumbled onto the bed, finally giving the pillows and sheets a proper creasing. Cara adored the proximity of him, being in his arms, being touched by him, just being with him.

Afterwards he was lying on top of her for a few moments and she thought he was falling asleep but then he rolled off her.

If anything should have helped knock him out it was making love to her yet again, but instead he felt reenergised. He rifled through the minibar and picked out a tiny bottle. "Brandy always makes me sleepy." He offered one to Cara but she chose a mineral water.

They went outside onto Matt’s balcony and sat in the two chairs on either side of the balcony table. Cara felt that her body was tired, after the long day in the sun of watching the game, the excitement, the vigorous attentions of Matt a couple of hours earlier. But her mind was completely awake and alert. She knew if she went straight back to bed she would simply lie there, sleepless.

"How long do you think you’ll play cricket for?" Cara asked him. "When do most players retire?"

"It varies, it tends to be a bit earlier for bowlers. I should have another good five years. Assuming no injury, of course," Matt said.

"What will you do afterwards?"

Coaching or commentating were the obvious routes, but Matt really hadn’t decided. As a former captain he would have more doors open to him than the average international player. It depended how much he wanted to keep travelling as well. "Probably something related to cricket still. I can’t see myself opening a bar or going back into engineering…"

As he spoke the door buzzed and there was a loud knocking. Cara froze in shock.

"Ignore it," Matt said. "Someone drunk, probably."

But the loud raps continued. "Just wait here," he told her. Cara moved to the end of the balcony so the curtain screened her from the door.

Matt’s first thought was that it was some drunken cricket fan, there were a few around that tended to drink beer every night and get rowdy. He opened the door and Jeremy and two other cricketers piled in before he could stop them.

They were all off their faces drunk, waving bottles of booze. Too drunk at least to notice what he had been up to, he hoped.

They sprawled all over the bed and chairs.

"What the hell are you playing at? We’ve got play in a few hours," Matt said.

"Don’t be so uptight, we’ll hammer them." This was met with cheers and bottles clinked together in toast.

What the hell was he going to do? It would be more than awkward if he was discovered. He should be able to trust them but he couldn’t guarantee there wouldn’t be gossip. Gossip that was bound to trickle back to the UK papers.

"Have a drink!" A half drunk bottle of wine was pushed at Matt but he put it down on a side table out of reach.

"Get out, all of you, and try and sober up by morning. For Christ’s sake…"

"Why are you so keen to get rid of us? Got company?" One of them got up and pretended to look in the bathroom, and then started taking a leak.

Outside Cara could hear what was going on and was terrified for both their sakes. She couldn’t see what was happening but she recognised Jeremy’s voice and those of the others. What if they decided to lumber out onto the balcony?

She shrank into the furthest corner, and looked around for some kind of escape. She could climb onto the next balcony - the doors there were closed so presumably the occupants were asleep - and at least duck down and hide there until Matt gave the all clear.

Cara wasn’t a huge fan of heights but she plucked up her courage.

Clambering onto the rail and over the neighbouring rail in a skimpy night robe, trying not to look down at the narrow but precipitous gap between them, was no easy feat.

By the time she had crouched down below sight level on the other balcony she was trembling with relief and the stress of the ordeal. The curtains were drawn behind the sliding glass doors which was good. She just kept as quiet as she could, and listened.

Sure enough one of the players noticed the open door and wandered out onto the balcony while Matt was trying to get them all out of his room. He wasn’t too drunk to overlook the two glasses.

"Been entertaining?" he asked Matt.

"They’re both mine. One to dilute the other, which it’s a pity you lot haven’t been doing." Matt tried to sound convincing.

Where the hell was Cara? Surely she couldn’t have jumped? He looked across at the rooms either side. It would be possible to climb over but you’d have to have some nerve. Was she hiding on one of them? He desperately hoped so.

Fear giving him greater resolve, he finally managed to strong arm the player off the balcony, drag the others off the bed and manoeuvre them in the direction of the door. "Now get the hell out and don’t wake up the rest of the hotel."

Matt knew there were journalists in the hotel, quite apart from cricket officials who would not look favourably on England players being drunk and disorderly mid-test.

He was also annoyed because they had been strongly set to win the first test - not least due to his own century in the first innings - and something like this could derail the game totally.

But there were more pressing matters. Where was Cara? Ensuring his door was locked he went back outside and called her, in a whisper.

"I’m here." She stood up, revealing herself on the next balcony. He felt physical relief as his estimation of her soared: it must have taken guts.

"Can you make it back over? Let me give you a hand."

The return climb was infinitely worse because it had all hit her and she was shaky with it, and she was no longer fortified by the initial adrenalin. It took an enormous summoning of nerve to force herself to get back across but she tried not to let him know. She froze momentarily as she was over the gap and had to force herself to keep going.

She practically tumbled onto Matt’s balcony and he helped her up and she fell against him, barely able to stand. She clung to him and he wrapped his arms around her tightly.

Finally they were both laughing about it. He was impressed by how quickly she recovered. She had courage, this girl.

"Do you want a drink now? I know you didn’t before, but I need a strong one more than ever after that."

She let him pour her some brandy and then finally exhausted they fell into bed together and slept until morning. "Stay with me, I’ll have more peace of mind if you’re still here when I leave," he asked her.

This wasn’t quite true. What was true was that he wanted to wake up with her. He didn’t want to wake up with an empty bed and a space where she had been, like that first morning.

Like it or not, the experience had also brought them closer together. If they had felt like co-conspirators before, they were a team now. Temporary, of course, but the ordeal had created a bond that Matt hadn’t anticipated.