Another hour of what can only be described as sheer torture later (interrupted by a short stop in the visitor centre toilets, and a longing gaze through the café window) I reached the designated clearing.
As soon as the tent was up on a reasonably flat spot, I dumped my pack on the grass and stripped off my coat, leggings, shoes and socks to reveal thighs chafed red from walking miles in damp trousers and blisters so huge it looked as though I had six toes. My ankle was slightly swollen, and still tender to the touch, but I hoped that a decent night’s sleep would be enough to remedy it.
My T-shirt had dried due to my body heat, but it stank of sweaty panic, so after tugging my hair out of its ponytail I also ditched that, enjoying the soft breeze against my skin, sucking in a deep breath of the zingy air that always follows a summer storm as I held out my arms, closed my eyes and embraced the overwhelming relief that I had made it.
I couldn’t wait to light a campfire, brew some tea, open up my tub of cheese and crackers, sit back and bask in my success, along with the lingering evening warmth.
The original plan had been to try to start a fire the wild way, with tinder and friction. That was now clearly not going to happen – especially as I had to wade deep into the undergrowth to find wood that had escaped the rain. I cleared an area of bare earth to ensure no risk of vegetation catching alight and made a pile of sticks, as seen on the survival videos. I then added some cotton balls rolled in Vaseline, struck a couple of matches and hey presto, only a few more tries and I had a roaring fire.
The original plan had also included getting dressed in a jumper and clean leggings, but it was still hot, I was fully embracing the back-to-nature vibes, and it suited my triumphant, unfettered mood to spread out my coat and sit back in my bra and knickers while I waited for the tea to boil, and for my skin to thoroughly dry out.
It was in this filthy, sweaty, semi-wild state, scarfing a wedge of extra-strong Cheddar while I waited for the tea to cool, the deepening dusk casting shadows from the fire that twisted and danced across the clearing, that a face appeared in the treeline opposite me.
Scrabbling backwards in shock, I knocked over my mug of tea, one foot becoming entangled in a guy rope as I backed up against the tent, my heart fighting to get out of my chest. This of course woke up Nesbit, who shot up, barking and spinning in frenzied circles as he hunted down whatever beast had caused his mistress to shriek like a banshee.
When his eyes – or possibly nose – locked on the face, who had now emerged to become a full body, he hurtled towards the man. While Nesbit was not likely to do any serious damage to the intruder, I hoped he might scare him away, or at least buy me some time to find a suitable weapon.
But no – I looked on in horror as my supposedly faithful companion leapt up at the man’s knees, tail wagging like a helicopter rotor, nose sniffing and whuffling in delight, not a hint of bared teeth or warning growls.
‘Well, hello!’ The man burst out laughing, bending to pat Nesbit’s head as he glanced up at me, and my heart didn’t know whether to soar with relief or plummet in shame.
I knew that voice.
Now he’d taken another few steps into the firelight, I knew that easy grin. Those broad shoulders. The warm, friendly eyes.
Dammit.
I mean, who else was it going to be, out here in the depths of the forest, at this time of night?
If my sprained ankle wasn’t currently twisted up in a rope, I might have tried to sneak behind the tent, wiggle my way in from the back and put on some clothes, then swear blind I’d been inside the tent all along.
As it was, I had to be content with folding myself into as small a ball as possible, deftly flicking my hair over my grubby bra and pretending that I camped semi-naked in the woods all the time. Just an ordinary Saturday night for a wild girl like me.
Just in case Sam hadn’t spotted me shrivelled up in the shadows, Nesbit helpfully ran from his leg over to me, did a happy bark, and then ran back to Sam again.
‘As lovely as it is bumping into you like this, I’m hoping you’ve brought some clothes with you?’ Sam said, his voice quivering with laughter as he spun around to preserve my dignity. ‘It gets pretty cold out here once the sun’s gone down.’
‘Well, of course!’ I did my best to free my leg so I could disappear into the tent and never come out again, but my hands wouldn’t stop trembling, my ankle was really sore and the rope was getting more and more knotted up the more frantically I tried to untangle it.
‘Dammit!’ I swore, out loud this time, causing Sam to jerk in surprise.
‘Are you okay?’
‘I was until you showed up. A thousand acres of forest and you happen to stumble upon my camp!’ I let out another grunt of frustration before finally admitting defeat. Taking a composing breath, I squared my shoulders and tried to chalk it all down to being part of the adventure. And for goodness’ sake, as mortified as I was that it was Sam, I shuddered to imagine how much worse it would be if it wasn’t him, and some other forest ranger had popped up.
‘I’m tangled up in the guy rope…’ I said, in as dignified a voice as I could muster.
‘Oh. Right,’ Sam replied, still facing away.
There was a potent pause.
‘Do you want some help?’ he eventually offered, his voice sounding strained.
‘Yes. Please.’
‘Are you absolutely sure, can we be completely clear, because I’m on duty right now and I do not want this to be potentially misconstrued by anyone. You want me to turn around, approach you, and untangle you from the guy rope. Myself. With my own hands.’
I swallowed back a flood of I don’t know what. Hormones, probably.
‘Well, there’s a penknife in my rucksack. If you pass me that I could hack myself free.’
‘And ruin your tent?’
‘Okay then. Yes please, I am asking you to please do whatever it was you just said so that I can go inside my tent and get dressed as soon as possible.’
In three ranger-length strides, Sam was crouching by my side, his breath slow and controlled as he deftly worked at the knots, eyes firmly fixed on my ankle, hair dangling over his forehead.
I closed my eyes to avoid seeing his gorgeous face close up, and tried to focus on something other than his fingers brushing my bare skin and the faint warmth of his body heat, despite only wearing a green T-shirt. I caught a hint of his scent, like the depths of the forest spiked with male perspiration, and the breath caught in my throat in response.
Every nerve in my body was taut. It was disturbingly and wonderfully intimate all at the same time, and I wanted him to take forever to get the knots undone, even as I couldn’t bear for the intensity to last another second.
I felt as much as heard him sit back, a sudden emptiness in the atmosphere, as though a huge weight had been lifted.