Another weekend flies by and I’m in the office alone early on the Monday morning.

Two strapping young 20-something lads come in, built – as my old nan used to say – like brick s**t houses, with a scaffolding van parked half-on, half-off the pavement.

They are looking for a last-minute break in Sharm to get some snorkelling in.

 I begin the search whilst eavesdropping the conversation.

Turns out one’s been dumped by his girlfriend of three years, so a trip for the boys is just the ticket.

Holiday found and booked. I ask if his ex will be following his social media to keep an eye on him whilst away.

“No,” he says. “This is my journey and I need to heal.”

Not quite sure I hear him right, I question his reply. Turns out this is going to be a 10-day break of fasting (bit of a waste of the all-inclusive, but hey-ho), deep meditation, aligning chakras and with a desert safari thrown in so they can both scream their lungs out.

She must have been quite a catch, the one that got away.

In my day, a broken heart remedy was a few too many pints followed by all your mates drunkenly telling you you’re too good for her (or him) and everyone moving on.

So, if you’re at the Jazz Mirabel hotel in Sharm next week and hear the sounds of weeping and wailing, don’t worry it’s just my two clients getting it all out…

Read more Tales from the Secret Agent here.