‘That’s what I’m worried about,’ he replied, poking at a log with a frown. ‘Next time, do everyone a favour and stick to a disposable barbecue. On bricks. And bring a fire bucket.’

I really didn’t think we needed to worry about a next time.

It was nearly fully dark by the time Sam was satisfied. I should have been completely frazzled, but I was still buzzing with adrenaline from his unexpected arrival and all that had happened since. Sam flicked on the torch that was strapped to his belt, which was about a hundred times more powerful than mine. Fortunately, a clear sky helped, with the moonlight shimmering between the treetops.

‘This is another reason why we discourage camping,’ Sam said, as we started walking back along the path into the trees, angling his torch so that I could see, completely eclipsing my feeble light in the process. ‘Dozens of people injure themselves tripping over roots or stepping in holes every year while stumbling around in the dark. Sometimes they end up lying there all night.’

‘I was planning to be safely tucked up in my tent by the time it was dark.’

‘Yeah, well. Things happen.’

Ain’t that the truth.

‘Are we going far?’ I dared to ask, once the grimace on Sam’s face had begun to ease. It was so dark out here that I’d totally lost all sense of direction or perspective. We could have been walking in ever decreasing circles for all I knew.

‘We’ll be there in five.’

‘Five what? Minutes? Miles?’

He stopped, swinging the rucksack that he’d insisted on carrying for me off his shoulders as though it was full of cotton wool. ‘Steps.’

He swung his mega-torch around to show me a clearing much smaller than the one I’d chosen. Maybe five metres across, twice that in length, it was wide enough for a canopy of stars above our heads, the three-quarter moon riding the treetops.

‘How on earth did you find this in the dark?’

Sam grinned. ‘You know me, wild man of the woods.’

‘Have you camped here before?’

‘Here or thereabouts.’

‘Well. Thank you for rescuing me from the risk of being shot. Next time I’ll ask your opinion on the best place to stay.’

‘Next time?’

‘You’re right. There won’t be a next time.’ I waited for Sam to untie the tent from the rucksack, and then made the mistake of taking a sip from my water bottle, so by the time I looked up again he was pushing in the final tent peg.

‘Maybe wait until the morning before you decide that. Although, if you genuinely want my opinion, book a proper, health and safety checked campsite – you can find “almost wild” campsites if you want the back to nature experience. Also, don’t—’