If a reasonable excuse for reintroducing myself didn’t present itself soon, I might have to make one up. But for now, all my courage and imagination was focused on Dream List item seven. My strange next-door neighbour was a challenge for another day.

Joan was at her holiday club the following week, so I could spend every spare moment obsessing over the camping trip.

After much internal debate, I settled on a six-mile hike that took in most of the forest park, as well as a stretch along a nearby river that led to the type of pub that would make a lovely spot for a lunch date with Dream Man. I’d also pack a fancy picnic to enjoy in the evening, allowing me to tick off another item on the Dream List. I dug out my warmest clothes to sleep in, packed minimal else and all that was left to do was spend several hours watching videos on survival techniques like how to build a campfire and survive a bear attack.

Saturday morning, Nesbit and I woke to wide-open blue skies. After a fortifying breakfast of eggs and beefy kibble, we set off out the back gate, the sun a hazy ball of butter ahead of us. Joan waved us off – ‘Whatever you do, don’t stray off the track!’ – and I couldn’t help feeling a little hobbit-like as I adjusted the pack on my back, water bottle bouncing against my hip.

It was a perfect day for ambling between the oaks and pines, hopping over tinkling brooks and in and out of splotches of sunshine, wildflowers spread like a fragrant carpet and the birds cheeping us on our way. Every so often we’d stop to consult the map, have a drink or simply soak up the loveliness. There was far too much life going on to feel lonely. If Steph had been with me, we’d have been too busy talking to notice much of the surroundings. If Mum had come on a hike, she’d have spent the whole time moaning about the dirt, the flies and the heat.

Dream Man? Now if he’d been here, we’d have walked in companionable silence, except for pointing out the pale blue butterflies dancing in a sunbeam, or the tree stump that looked like an owl.

So, I simply enjoyed these delights on my own, kept a close eye on my dog and savoured being the kind of woman who goes on solo hikes on a Saturday, instead of trailing her mum around Home Bargains because she doesn’t have the courage to say that she doesn’t care about place mats.