‘Martin!’ She put her hand on his arm to stop it going any further. ‘I’m going to spill my tea!’

‘Put it down,’ he said. ‘And there’s plenty more in the flask.’

For a moment – a brief moment, there was no way she was really going to have sex with him in the forest, and she doubted he would either – she considered it, and then she caught a glimpse of some movement further up the path.

She slid away from him. ‘Stop it! There’s someone coming.’

He turned to look. There was the sound of twigs breaking, and then a man came around the corner.

Sandra stared at him.

‘My God,’ she said. She felt herself flush. ‘That’s Mr Best! Imagine if he’d caught us.’

He took a few more steps before he saw them, then he jerked to a stop. He was carrying a large rucksack, and was pale and out of breath.

‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Sandra. Martin.’ He blinked a few times, looking around. He seemed on edge, almost startled. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Same as you,’ Martin said. ‘Out for a walk.’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Out for a walk. That’s right.’

‘How are you?’ Sandra said. She stood up. ‘It’s been a while since we saw you last.’

‘I’m well.’ He hefted the rucksack. ‘Although I’ve been a little under the weather recently. You probably don’t want to get too close!’

‘I’m sure it’s OK,’ Sandra said. ‘You look fine.’

‘I don’t know. I’m feeling a little warm. A little dizzy.’

‘Probably that big bag you’re carrying,’ Martin said. ‘Do you want me to take it? We can accompany you back to your car?’

‘No, no,’ Best said. He shook his head. ‘It’d ruin your walk. I wouldn’t dream of it.’

‘It’s no problem.’ Martin got to his feet. ‘Here. I’ll take it.’

Best took a step backwards. ‘Please. No. I’ll be fine.’

‘If you’re sure,’ Martin said. ‘But we’re more than happy to help.’

‘That’s very kind. But you needn’t worry.’ Best took a mobile phone from his pocket. It was an old flip phone. Sandra hadn’t seen one for a while. ‘I’ve got this. If I need to, I can call someone.’

He started to walk away from them.

‘Anyway, it was lovely to see you. Enjoy your day out.’

Sandra watched him walk away.

‘I feel for him,’ she said. ‘Living alone. You can see it.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I don’t think he’s taking care of himself.’

‘In what way?’

‘Did you see his hands?’

Martin shook his head. ‘What about them?’

‘They were filthy. Dirt under the fingernails. And his trousers looked like they needed washing. They had mud on the knees and the hems.’