He winks to soften the blow. ‘But one with special animal powers. Just call me Crocodile Dundee!’

‘Croc for short? Or do you prefer Dundee?’

‘Mmm, think I might stick with Noah. One sounds a bit snappy and the other makes me sound like a fruitcake.’

I grin, feeling a bit more chilled myself. ‘With added nuts on top!’ As a kid my nana always bought Dundee cake, and I’d take the nuts off the top. It took longer than eating the cake.

‘Sure.’ He gives a wry smile. ‘Seriously though, my kid sister’s always been animal mad. She’s a vet now, but when we were kids, she did her best to fill the house up with four-legged furries. Guess getting them on my side was a survival instinct!’ We walk on in companionable silence until we reach the gate. ‘Do you fancy a coffee, or …?’

‘Do you mind if we head back? I can make you a drink?’

‘Sure.’ He smiles. ‘Guess the big fella’s shaken you up a bit. Not nice being taken for a ride.’

‘Nope, not nice at all,’ I say, and just like that an image of my dad jumps into my head. It’s like a slap in the face, which kind of ruins the happy vibe I’d been feeling.

If I carry on seeing Noah, then I’m heading into shark-infested waters. I don’t want to be the sprat that is swallowed whole.

To be honest though, Noah untangled me from the tree pretty quickly. Dad would have still been taking photos of my predicament and sharing them on Twitter. He’s also being really gentle and nice and seems genuinely concerned that I’m okay.

‘Aww don’t be sad.’ Noah’s arm has snaked round my shoulders somehow and he squeezes me into his side. ‘It could be worse!’

It could. ‘Ouch!’ As hugs go, it was a nice gesture, but bloody painful. My skin smarts all the way down my left side. At least it’s given my dad a firm kick up the backside and out of my head!

‘Close encounter of the tree kind?’

‘Haha you’re such a comedian!’ We share a grin and I feel myself relax again. Despite the pain. Noah’s easy company.

‘Moving over to the bark side?’

‘Stop!’ I cringe and put my hands over my ears. ‘No more! Eek, that is seriously bad. Hilarious you are not.’

He gives me a thumbs up. ‘Can’t beat a bit of Yoda!’

‘Whatever, you do promise me you won’t give up the day job and move onto stand-up.’ He has, however, made me laugh, and forget (well almost) my dad, and my raw, prickly skin.

Oh, bugger my bloody dad. He’s done it again. Why can’t I just forget about him? Never quite banished. You can guarantee that every time I start to chill a bit he will pop into my head and I’ll remember not to get carried away and fall for a charmer.

I guess you could say that my relationship with Dad is complicated. He does and says things sometimes that should make it easy to hate him, but he has a knack of making me feel important (well I bet he does it to everybody he wants to charm) when it suits him. He has always been able to make me feel like I am the centre of his world, that I matter to him. So, when I was a kid, it didn’t matter that I was mad at him because he hadn’t been home for days, or upset that he’d missed my birthday (again). All of that was forgotten when he turned the charm full on, when he tickled me, or told a funny joke, or laughed in a way that I had to join in with. Or gently smiled, cupped my face in his big, warm hands, looked me straight in the eye and told me he’d always love me.