Why I chose the world’s most romantic islands to nurse my grief alone

“I have had three proposals this month,” says my butler, Shabeen, proudly. “Really? Tell me your secret. I’ve not had that many in a lifetime, and I’m twice your age,” I reply. “No, no. You misunderstand me. I’ve arranged three. People like to propose in the beach bubble. It’s the only one in the Maldives.”

He stares at me. I stare back. Then we both look away, casting our eyes on the bubble tent and its seductive bed, along the long, private sandbank at Finolhu resort, where it sits, and up to the star-stippled sky above us.

Finally, we let them rest on the bottle of fizz chilling on the candlelit table cut into a sandpit and on my personal chef preparing dinner. As far as perfect settings for a proposal go, this is tough to beat – but unless I turn into one of those weirdie types who marry themselves, tonight is not going to take Shabeen’s total to four.