I get a bit lost, entering the park from a strange hill with multiple routes branching out at the end of it. Not really caring for a moment, and just wanting to walk, I take a left. It’s a little spooky, but I know there are people close by if I were to scream. In a clearing just to my left I catch a glimpse of something that causes me to blink furiously, wondering if it’s a figment of my imagination. Two naked bodies leaning against the bonnet of a rather sorry-looking Ford Fiesta. The car is parked in a tiny slipway, you’d need to know it was there to find it. Or just happen upon it, like me. I quickly dash behind a tree.

There is no one else around, this isn’t one of the main routes into the park, but still they don’t seem to be trying to hide. They are screwing silently but frantically. The woman is bent over the car, the man is thrashing into her from behind. I’m trying to go unnoticed, but I can’t take my eyes off them. They are being so bold, they must know people will see? I watch subtly from as far away as I can. I should keep walking but for some reason I can’t move. All of a sudden, I get a flurry of text messages to my phone.

Shit.

I get it out of my bag. It’s Risky, something about the company Instagram page getting over 2000 new followers in five minutes. She keeps texting with higher and higher increments: 2040, 3200. I guess Lauren really does have all the pulling power, her post has made me famous. In a flap, I manage to put it on silent, and I put my phone back in my bag. The man looks up and sees me. I duck back but it is too late. I mouth that I am sorry, I bow my head as I back away. I try to act like it doesn’t matter, gesture that they should carry on. It’s my bad for being here, not theirs. He doesn’t seem worried. He gestures with his head for me to stay. He taps the woman on her backside, and points to me when she looks up. She smiles too, then closes her eyes as if my presence just increased her pleasure levels by double.

I now feel like it would be ruder to leave.